#also the way there were setting up the rules in the beginning made me so emo ohggf my god | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostedgwen · 24 days ago

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hear me howling | r.lupin

note : i got inspired and it turned into a 9.6k words fic, this is gonna be looooong, also my measly attempt at making some marauders-timeline eme eme as if the dates made sense lol THANK YOU FOR 800 FOLLOWERS ILY ALL enjoy pls

warnings : second-year to seventh-year timeline, remus is a brooding werewolf, mentions of injuries and lots of angst on remus being a werewolf, lots and lots of pining, verrrryyyy slow-burn with one-sided pining, background marauders still get their cameo and progress, reader is a dork about magical creatures and proud, remus is just all emo until he wasn't

Obsessed with magical creatures and late-night snacks, you accidentally discover Remus Lupin's furry problem, so you begin leaving him gifts and treats to ease your guilt. Only, he knows it's you and it's a seemingly endless waltz around the truth for your entirety at Hogwarts.

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me, jesus christ don't be kind to me. Honey, don't feed me, I will come back.

Second-year : February 16th, 1973.

You didn’t mean to find out that Remus Lupin is a werewolf.

It started with a craving. Not for drama or secrets or forbidden knowledge - just treacle tart. Maybe a slice of toast, golden and buttered to the edges. A mug of cocoa warm enough to coax the sleep back into your bones and make the cold of the stone floor worth it.

Hogwarts after dark was a world all its own - quieter, softer, suspended in a kind of dream-state where everything felt a little more secret and a little more sacred. The castle changed when the sun set, became something gentler. The stones, warm from the day’s footsteps, seemed to exhale as night fell, sighing with the weight of centuries.

The torchlight along the corridors flickered sleepily, casting long, slow shadows that moved like drifting thoughts - definitely scary but it never got to you, a true Gryffindor at heart.

The halls you’d memorised by second year became half-lit, all curves and corners that felt more familiar than your own dormitory. At night, Hogwarts wasn’t just home - it was yours. Your secret, your sanctuary.

You moved quietly, the balls of your feet brushing over cool stone. Not because you were guilty - you weren’t breaking any rules that mattered (sneaking out doesn't count, you're only guilty if you get caught) - but because there was something sacred about the stillness.

You’d just slipped behind the tapestry shortcut near the Grand Staircase, feet bare for speed and stealth, when you heard them.

Footsteps.

Not the confused shuffle of someone lost. Not the reckless pounding of a student running from a Prefect they saw down the corridor fast approaching. These steps were measured. Purposeful. Two sets, moving together, rhythmically, like they’d done this before.

You froze, every muscle held tight in an instant, and pressed yourself against the wall. Fingers curled into the folds of the tapestry, you leaned slightly forward and peered through the gap in the fabric, breath shallow.

There, illuminated by the soft blue glow of a hovering lantern charm, walked Remus Lupin and Madam Pomfrey.

You blink at the sight - once, then again - trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Because it isn’t strange to see a student with a teacher. But this? This didn’t feel disciplinary. It didn’t feel like a student caught out of bed, dragged back to their dorm with a lecture trailing behind them. It felt. . . familiar. Practiced.

Pomfrey’s hand was firm on Lupin's arm. Not yanking or pulling, but steadying. Guiding. Protective in a way that spoke of history, of routine. She wasn’t scolding him - she was supporting him.

And Lupin -

Lupin looked ill.

You couldn't tell much as they are a good distance away and the castle is much too dark, but even you could tell that much from where you were hiding,

He didn’t speak. Didn’t look up. Just kept walking beside her in silence.

You didn’t follow. Even though your curiosity had woken up with a start, sitting upright and alert in your chest. Even though your mind immediately began stitching theories together like some frenzied seamstress. You weren’t nosey.

And it wasn’t your business.

So you let the moment pass.

Once their footsteps faded and the shadows settled back into stillness, you stepped out. Carefully. One foot, then the other, like the floor might still hold their presence.

You glanced down the corridor, half-expecting to see them again, but it was empty now - only the torches and the faint warmth of their passing remained.

You didn’t think about it again until you were in the kitchens, the portrait swinging closed behind you with a soft huff of displaced air.

The elves greeted you like they always did - not with surprise, but with familiarity. Like you were just another part of their nightly routine. One of them pressed a plate into your hands without asking, another handed you a steaming mug, and a third patted your arm before bustling away to stack dishes.

You sat on one of the benches, cross-legged and quiet, the warmth of the tart melting through your fingers, the cocoa steaming in slow curls. The room hummed with gentle magic, old and kind, like a lullaby with no words. You sipped, and chewed, and listened to the stillness.

And even though you weren’t thinking about it - not consciously, not really - a part of you kept replaying the image. The two of them walking together in that dim corridor, her hand on his arm. His silence. His eyes.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That maybe he had the flu. That maybe she was just being kind.

You told yourself not to wonder.

But you did.

The next morning, Remus came to breakfast late.

Not just a few minutes behind everyone else. No - late enough that the owls were already gone, the porridge was cold, and most of the chatter had dwindled to tired murmurs.

He looked worse than he did last night, didn't Madam Pomfrey assist him?

There was a hollowness to his face, like something essential had been scooped out in the night and hadn’t come back yet. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t just shadows - they were bruises, dark and deep, like sleep had tried to find him and failed.

You watched as he reached for the pumpkin juice, his movements slow, careful. He winced when his fingers closed around the pitcher. Both of his hands were wrapped in fresh white bandages - not the kind Madam Pomfrey handed out for blisters or scrapes, but the thick kind, the serious kind. The kind you wore when something had torn open and they didn’t want anyone to see.

His posture was wrong, too. He sat stiffly, spine too straight, like his whole body was a single long ache.

Sirius Black was being loud.

He was telling a story about something ridiculous - Peeves, maybe, or James turning a Slytherin’s robes inside out mid-duel - but he was telling it too fast. Too loud. Like he was trying to fill the space so no one would look too closely.

James, beside him, eagerly clinging to Sirius' words.

And Peter - Peter kept glancing at Remus like he was watching a sandcastle about to collapse. Small, subtle flicks of his eyes, the kind you might miss if you weren’t paying attention.

You watched them from your end of the table, your spoon suspended halfway to your mouth, cereal going soggy while you took them all in.

Weird.

That’s what your brain settled on, in the absence of any better explanation. Just. . .weird.

You decided then, at the age of 13 that boys were weird.

You didn’t ask. Didn’t say anything to anyone. You just swallowed it down, along with your lukewarm breakfast, and filed it away into that mental cabinet you only opened on quiet nights.

And then it happened again.

The next month.

And the next.

And the one after that.

Always the same rhythm. Always on the full moon. Always late to breakfast, with new bandages and new silences and new shadows under his eyes -

Always with Madam Pomfrey.

And the injuries - they never matched the stories.

He’d claim he fell down the stairs, or tripped over a bookcase, or had a nasty encounter with a particularly aggressive Puffapod. But they didn’t match. Not really. The scratches were too deep. The bruises too well-placed. The pain too real for something so mundane.

So you did something instinctive.

You started keeping track of the moon.

Just to see. Just to make sure.

And when the pattern held - when the full moon rolled around again and Remus limped into the Great Hall with a split lip and a bandage on his collarbone - something inside you shifted. Quietly, but permanently. Like a book falling off a shelf and opening to a page you hadn’t meant to read.

You had to know.

You waited for the next full moon like it was a secret coded into the stars. Like the answer to everything was tucked between the spaces of its rising.

Second-year : June 8th, 1973

You snuck out long after curfew, later than even your usual kitchen adventures. The castle was silent in the way that made your ears ring. You moved like a shadow, slipping through corridors with your breath tucked tight in your chest.

You followed them - just far enough behind not to be seen, but close enough to feel the pull of where they were going.

Through hidden doors you hadn’t known about. Behind suits of armor with eyes that flickered in the dark.

They left the castle.

You didn’t follow further - not then. You stood at the edge, just past the last torchlight, and watched them walk into the trees. Madam Pomfrey still had her hand on his arm. Remus still didn’t say a word.

But you remembered the direction.

The next morning, just before the sun crested the hills, you crept out again.

The castle was still sleeping, tucked in its dreams. The grass outside was wet with dew, the sky pale pink and lavender, a canvas not yet painted. The air was thin with morning -

The Shrieking Shack is where you ended up in when you followed their path through the whomping willow. It looked empty, broken, all boarded windows and peeling paint.

You’d grown up with stories about it - how it was cursed, how ghosts screamed through its halls on stormy nights, how even the bravest dared not enter.

You climbed anyway, your breath shallow and your palms sweating. Each step up the hill felt heavier than the last.

The wooden porch creaked beneath your weight. You didn’t go inside fully - didn’t have to. There was a break in the slats, a crack just wide enough to see.

And through it, you saw him.

Remus Lupin.

Lying on the floor, curled in on himself like a question. His body was all angles and shadows, chest rising in small, uneven breaths. Sweat beaded his skin, and there was blood - not dried, not old. Fresh. Soaking through the rips in his shirt, streaking down his back.

The wood beneath him was scarred, clawed deep, as if something monstrous had raged and thrashed and left the wreckage of itself behind.

You didn’t scream.

You didn’t run.

You didn’t cry.

You just stood there, hands clenched at your sides, staring through the slats while your heart beat like thunder in your throat.

Not afraid. Not really.

Just. . . changed.

You knew now.

And you wouldn’t tell a soul.

The first time, you left a biscuit.

It was stupid, maybe. Too sentimental - yes.

You left a ginger biscuit on the windowsill of the Shrieking Shack. Wrapped in a napkin. No note.

He never mentioned it. You didn't check.

The second time, it was tea.

Strong, spicy black tea in a little tin you nicked from the kitchens. A scribbled note under the lid: For the mornings after.

You tucked it behind a warped slat in the wooden fence and walked away before sunrise. Your heart thudded the whole time.

After that, it became a pattern.

A chocolate frog.

A worn paperback copy of Magical Creatures That Might Not Kill You, pages annotated in your tiny, looping scrawl.

A knit scarf in Gryffindor red - faded, a little too short, the wool pilled but warm. It smelled like chocolates and apple pie.

A tiny pot of bruise balm, brewed in secret and labeled only with a hand-drawn moon.

You never stayed to watch him find them. Never left a name. But you started sleeping easier on full moons, knowing you havedone something - even if it was just a biscuit or a scarf.

It was a ritual now. A kindness you couldn’t explain. A secret kept not out of fear, but something deeper. Quieter. Something like care.

Remus Lupin was not thinking about breakfast.

He was thinking about how his ribs still ached when he twisted. How his left shoulder clicked when he lifted his fork. How he hadn’t told anyone about the things that kept showing up at the Shack - soft, sweet, thoughtful things that made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t know how to name.

He kept the scarf in his trunk. Wore it when the wind bit too sharp. It still smelled like something warm and alive.

That scent was on his hands now - faint - when he lifted his mug of pumpkin juice.

And then it hit him again. Strong.

Not in memory. Not in theory.

In the air.

He went still.

And then she walked past.

Not toward him. Not looking. Just brushing by the Gryffindor table with her bookbag slung across her chest and her hair still damp from her morning shower.

Her.

That was her scent.

He blinked too slowly, jaw slack, brain fuzzy with the sudden rush of realization.

James nudged him in the ribs. “You planning to breathe again anytime soon, or. . .?”

“What?” Remus mumbled, eyes still half-tracking her down the table.

“Oh my God,” Sirius muttered, leaning across the table with a shit-eating grin. “He’s gawking. Our Remus Lupin has joined the land of the living. Quick, someone write this down.”

“Who is she?” James asked, glancing over.

Peter - helpful, as always - perked up. “That’s ____ ____. Mum knows her family - they’re old Gryffindor and Ravenclaw stock. Her older brother was Head Boy last year. Works at the Ministry now.”

“Seen her in the library with Evans at times,” Sirius said, squinting. “Didn’t she get detention for arguing with Professor Binns about why unicorns aren’t boring?”

“She loves magical creatures,” Peter added. “Like, properly loves them. Obsessed with that Scamander bloke.”

Remus blinked slowly. “Newt Scamander?”

“Yeah, him. Think she’s got, like, a poster in her dorm or something - heard McKinnon tease her about it.”

James whistled low. “Wow. So, Remus - that your type then? Bookish - much like you, and oddly into carnivorous beasts?”

Sirius grinned. “Makes sense. Remmy here is a bit of a carnivorous beast himself.”

Remus flushed scarlet to the tips of his ears - nevermind how Sirius is yet again teasing him about his furry problem, he's been doing it since they found out last week.

He didn’t say a word. Not about the scarf. Not about the tea. Not about the quiet, careful gifts that smelled like her.

But he looked down the table at her one last time - and this time, she looked back.

Just for a second.

And he thought: She knows.

And worse: She’s kind.

And worst of all: He might come back anyway.

Second-year : June 11th, 1973

The lightin the boys’ dormitory had dimmed low, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls and warming the edges of the red and gold tapestries. Outside, the wind howled against the castle, rattling the windowpanes and whispering through the gaps like it wanted in. Inside, the mood was loose-limbed and half-lazy - that specific kind of comfort that came after dinner but before sleep, when everything felt suspended in amber.

Remus was stretched across his bed, back propped against the headboard, legs tangled in the duvet. A book sat forgotten on his lap, pages soft with wear. He hadn’t turned it in twenty minutes.

Sirius lay upside down on James’s bed, his head hanging off the edge, one hand tossing a Snitch into the air and catching it again with practiced ease. He was bored - which was dangerous. Sirius bored meant Sirius thinking, and Sirius thinking meant trouble.

James, ever restless, was perched on the edge of his desk, swinging his legs and poking aimlessly at the seams of a half-peeled Chocolate Frog wrapper. His hair looked like it had just lost a fight with gravity - worse than usual, which was saying something.

Peter was on the floor, cross-legged, unwrapping a packet of Every Flavour Beans like he was defusing a bomb - since when was this boy without treats?

It was peaceful in the way boys’ dorms are when the world feels far away - low laughter, familiar smells, the constant undercurrent of magic humming in the stone.

And then, Sirius opened his mouth.

“Gonna tell your little moonlight admirer how you feel,” he drawled from the foot of James’ bed, “or just keep inhaling her scarf like it’s your lifeline?”

James cackled immediately, delighted. “Bet she knits you socks next. Or a mitten. Should’ve seen the way you practically wagged your tail when she would pass.”

Peter, never one to be left out, piped up with wide eyes and even wider enthusiasm. “She’s got a whole book on werewolf habitats, y’know. I saw her reading it yesterday in the library. Highlighting bits, just wanted to say hi then she started feeding me facts about it. Not exactly my idea for a snack.”

Remus tried to laugh. He really did. His mouth twitched, the sound caught somewhere behind his teeth - but when it finally escaped, it wasn’t laughter. Not really. Too quiet. Too strained. It hit the floor between them like something delicate that had cracked on landing.

He rubbed a hand down his face, slow and bone-tired, then let it fall into his lap. His voice came out quiet, nearly swallowed by the room. “What if I’m just another creature to her?”

The effect was immediate. The teasing halted.

James stopped swinging his legs. Sirius sat up properly. Peter froze, a half-eaten bean forgotten between his fingers - probably for the better, the flavour was cobwebs.

Remus didn’t look up. Couldn’t. His gaze stayed fixed on the blanket, where his fingers twisted the fabric into nervous knots.

“Like. . . like a case study,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “Another fascinating, tragic monster to write about. One she can observe from a distance and feel good about.”

The silence after that was different - thick and uncomfortable. It wasn’t the usual easy quiet that fell when they all drifted into their own thoughts. This one had edges.

Sirius shifted. The creak of the bed springs echoed louder than it should have in the hush.

“She idolizes Newt Scamander,” Remus continued, voice thin but steady. “Reads about magical creatures like they’re novels. What if I’m just one of those fantastic beasts? A good story for someone like her.”

His voice cracked - not loud, but raw. Frayed at the edges. “I don’t want to be a thing she pities.”

James was the first to speak. But this time, his voice had dropped from its usual larkish rhythm - softer now, almost hesitant. “That’s not exactly bad, is it?”

Remus blinked. Just once. Like the thought had knocked something loose.

“She knew,” James said, gently now. “And she didn’t flinch. Didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t run. She sees you - all of it - and she still brings you tea.”

Sirius, uncharacteristically subdued, let the silence stretch for a second before adding, “If I fancied a creature,” he said, “I’d give it a leash. Not a bloody knitted scarf.”

That earned him a look from James, but the meaning lingered underneath the sarcasm - unpolished but true.

Remus finally looked up, eyes flicking toward Sirius.

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. “That was a gift, mate. Not a 'Care for Magical Creatures' project.”

The words settled in the space between them like warmth. Heavy, but not burdensome.

Remus didn’t say anything. Just nodded once. Slow. Then, like it was second nature, he reached beneath his pillow and pulled out the scarf. His fingers curled around it - not in desperation, but something steadier. Quieter.

He held it close.

Like maybe, just maybe, it could keep the moon away.

Third-year : November 17, 1973

“You’re watching her again,” James whispered one day during Charms, his voice pitched low enough to avoid detection, but not low enough to hide the teasing fondness in it.

Remus didn’t even bother pretending to look away. He was watching you from across the room, where you sat cross-legged in your chair, completely absorbed in whatever you were sketching in the margins of your notes. Your tongue poked out in concentration, a tiny, unconscious thing, and he wondered if you even knew you did that.

“I’m not watching her,” Remus mumbled, even as his eyes remained fixed on you.

Sirius leaned in, smirking. “Mate, if you stared any harder, you’d see through her robe.”

“She’s just - she’s interesting,” Remus said, voice barely above a whisper. He was trying not to turn red, trying not to feel the way his pulse picked up when you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “She reads Beasts & Beings for fun.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Still funny when she told Kettleburn that his dragon theory was outdated. She quoted Newt Scamander at him. In detail.”

“She did,” Remus admitted before he could stop himself. The corner of his mouth twitched. His eyes softened as he watched you scribble something else on the edge of your parchment.

That night, he found a tiny pouch smuggled into his bookbag - he definitely did not put that there. Inside was a single lemon drop, his favorite. There was no note. Just a ribbon tying the pouch shut. Green, not his House color.

He stared at it for a long moment, heart twisting, then quietly tucked it into the back of his drawer, not intending at all to eat it.

Third-year : January 14, 1974

You and Remus got paired in Potions.

It hadn’t been planned. Slughorn, flustered after Wilkes nearly caused a cauldron explosion, had shuffled everyone around. You’d ended up beside Remus, settling into his table like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hi,” you said, bright and easy. “We make a good team, yeah?”

Remus could only nod mutely, trying to focus on the flobberworms he was supposed to be slicing. His hands weren’t steady. He nearly took off a fingertip.

“You alright?” you asked, leaning in a little closer to check his work.

He could smell your hair. It was warm and comforting, like chocolate and apple pie, like something from a dream he hadn’t let himself have.

“Fine,” he croaked, forcing himself to look at the cutting board instead of you. His ears were burning.

After class, he sat on his bed for half an hour trying to write a thank-you note for the lemon drop - just something simple, something kind. But nothing felt right. Every line sounded stupid or too much or not enough.

In the end, he burned it.

Fourth-year : September 31, 1974

By then, everyone knew you were odd.

Not in a cruel way - at least, not most of the time. You didn’t go on many Hogsmeade trips, claiming you were “busy” with things no one else seemed to understand. You doodled magical creatures in your textbooks, filled the corners of your parchment with sketches of things no one else cared to imagine. Once, someone caught you reading a book about Chimaera taming and called you weird to your face.

You just laughed.

Remus loved that laugh. It was soft and sheepish, like you knew you were strange and had already made peace with it - like you have decided that's who you were and, what's so bad about it?

Sirius came storming back into their dorm one night, arms crossed and indignant.

“Marlene just said she’s lame for skipping Hogsmeade again,” he declared. “Knitting. Can you believe it?”

Remus blinked. “She’s what?”

“Knitting. Like a bloody gramma. Didn’t even say no - just mumbled something about wool gauge and disappeared.”

Remus neglected to comment on it - although he is interested, anything about you was a sure way to get his attention. Just the mention of you makes him perk up.

The next morning, after a particularly rough full moon, Remus found a scarf folded neatly right near the passage in the Shrieking Shack. Green and gold. Loosely stitched with little stars embroidered at the ends. It was soft - softer than anything he owned.

He clutched it to his chest for ten whole minutes, eyes closed, breathing in your scent, before hiding it under his jumper just in time for Madam Pomfrey to pick him up.

Fifth-year : March , 1975

The Animagus transformations worked.

It was an absolutely insane idea - one only the Marauders of all people could think of - and it worked! They ran with him now. Laughed and barked and butted heads beneath the moonlight. It wasn’t just suffering anymore. He wasn’t alone.

But you didn’t know.

You still left things for him - little kindnesses you never claimed. A pair of self-warming socks. A clipping from The Daily Prophet with an article about centaur diplomacy, your notes scribbled in the margins. A new tea after every full moon.

You thought he was still alone every time. Still cold and trembling in the Shrieking Shack.

He couldn't confront you about it and open the exploding can of worms, so he also couldn't let you know that he had friends - brothers - to be with him every full moon.

His very own, mismatched pack -

Fifth-year : February 16, 1976

Sirius dropped onto Remus’s bed one night, his ribs still sore from the transformation -

“Alright,” he said with a sigh, flopping backward. “I get it.”

Remus looked up, eyes tired. “Get what?”

“The scent thing,” Sirius said. “You said she smells good. You’re right. She smells like - something sweet and like, pastries. Like she’d be soft to the touch.”

Something flickered behind Remus’s eyes. Sharp. Territorial.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he said, voice low.

Sirius blinked. “Whoa. Relax -”

“I mean it.”

James poked his head through the curtain, eyebrows raised. Peter followed.

Sirius sat up slowly, then grinned. “Ohhh. We’ve reached the territorial stage.”

Peter snorted. “Our Moony’s in love.”

“Shut up,” Remus muttered, but his face was already turning red.

“You could tell her,” James offered. Not teasing. Just kind.

Remus stared at the scar across his palm. The latest one. Pale and healing.

“I don’t want her to see the monster.”

James sat beside him, patting his knee. “She already has, Mate,” he said softly, “and she still leaves you biscuits.

Sixth-year : December 16, 1976

It’s nearly Christmas break. The snow is falling heavy, blanketing the castle in white. The moon is coming. He can feel it in his bones.

You passed him in the corridor today, cheeks pink with cold, scarf askew.

“Remus!” you called, smiling wide. You held up a parcel wrapped in paper. “I made extra peppermint bark. Want some?”

He nodded, throat too tight to speak. You pressed it into his hand like it was nothing - like you didn’t even realize what it meant to him.

Later, in the quiet of the dorm, he pulls out the scarf - the green and gold one - from under his pillow. It still smells like you - after all this time, he had managed to preserve it - he's always been the best at charms among Marauders. Still feels soft from your hands.

He presses his face into it as snow begins to fall outside, the world hushed and gentle for once, and wonders - not for the first time - if maybe, just maybe, this ache inside him might quiet someday.

Remus gets up abruptly - “I'm off to go patrol.”

You don’t look up from your knitting. The yarn pulls tight between your fingers, snagging slightly as though it’s resisting your movements - like it’s aware your mind isn’t really here, not in this warm, humming common room, but somewhere else entirely. Somewhere a few feet away.

Somewhere just across the rug where a certain someone used to lounge with a book half-hidden behind the arm of a chair, scarf always knotted around his throat no matter if it was snowing or sunlit outside.

“It’s not a crush,” you mutter, voice low and stubborn.

Marlene laughs, not cruelly but with that familiar ease of someone who’s seen all your tells. “It’s a tragedy,” she says, brushing a bit of fluff from her sleeve. “The boy looks at you like he’s starving and won’t let himself eat.”

Your fingers slip - just for a second - but it’s enough to drop a stitch. You suck in a breath through your teeth.

Marlene doesn’t push. Just reaches over and tugs gently at the yarn, not enough to undo anything but enough to make a point. “Come on. Go steal something sweet. Butterbeer tart’s still on the menu if you’re lucky.”

You don’t reply. Don’t even nod. But ten minutes later, your knitting tucked away and scarf bundled into your bag, you’re gone.

The corridors are quiet, hushed in that late-night way where even your footsteps seem cautious, like they’re afraid to be caught out of bed. You’ve walked this route more times than you can count - past the tapestry with the unicorns and the secret shortcut, past the suits of armor that hum little tunes when they think no one’s paying attention.

You’re one portrait away from the kitchens.

But you never make it.

Not this time.

Because the second you turn the corner, just as the warm smell of baked bread begins to tease your senses, a voice cuts through the soft torchlight.

“Caught you.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. Heart stutters, breath catches—and of course it’s him. Of course it’s Remus bloody Lupin, arms crossed in that quietly superior way of his, prefect badge gleaming like some smug little moon pinned to his chest.

You blink at him, trying to figure out just what he meant by those words, then blink again as if you can reset the moment.

“I’m sleepwalking,” you say, trying to summon a convincing tone but failing miserably.

One eyebrow rises, unimpressed.

“This is a dream,” you try again, lifting your chin like that’ll help sell it,“you’re a dream.”

Still no smirk - but now there’s a grin, and it’s worse, somehow. Wide and real and golden with amusement, warm in a way that knocks the breath out of you. “Right. And the hallway is a marshmallow field?”

“No,” you say primly, adjusting your bag. “It’s a treacle tart field. Get your dream logic straight.”

That makes him laugh. Really laugh - not the usual quiet chuckle he gives when he’s grading papers or half-listening to Sirius’ antics, but something bigger. Breathless and surprised. It bubbles out of him and wraps around you like sunlight.

“Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the kitchens. “Let’s go see if the dream pantry’s still stocked.”

Inside, the house-elves beam the moment you enter. They flit around like you’re a favorite relative come home for a visit, pressing warm pastries and mugs of cocoa into your hands, asking after your classes like they haven’t seen you in months.

You accept a tart with a smile you don’t quite realize is on your face, drop into your usual seat near the hearth, and glance up - only to find Remus still watching you. Not in a way that feels heavy or intrusive, but like he’s seeing something he hadn’t noticed before.

“Do you come here often?” he asks, accepting a steaming mug from a house-elf with a polite nod.

You take a sip, let the heat settle in your chest, and shrug. “Only when the moon’s not full.”

His expression shifts, just slightly. His eyes flicker, and for a heartbeat you wonder if you’ve pushed too far, said too much.

But then he smiles again - softer this time. Quieter. A little sad.

“Right.”

And you both leave it at that, he misses his chance and you don't give him another one.

It earns a huff of laughter, soft and full of something you can’t quite name. You don’t say anything else after that - not for a long time. You just pass bites back and forth between you, let the cocoa warm your fingers, and sink into the kind of silence that feels full instead of empty.

He walks you back when the clock nears curfew.

The halls are darker now, hushed with sleep, shadows curled in every corner. Everything feels like it’s been dipped in ink—quiet and secret and slow.

“I should write you up,” he says, casual as anything, hands in his pockets.

“You should try to catch me awake next time,” you toss back, bumping your shoulder lightly into his.

He laughs again - richer this time. Like he’s not pretending to be anything. And it’s the kind of sound that lodges itself in your chest, something you’ll hold onto in the days ahead.

When you reach the portrait hole, you pause. Neither of you says goodnight - not yet.

You just look at him.

And he looks back - like he’s memorizing your face in this exact light, like he’s afraid it might be different tomorrow.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

“For what?”

He hesitates, like the answer might tip something between you. Then: “For. . .” he trails off, letting the words simmer in his mouth, for not running, he let it die down. “tonight, it was fun. I'm glad I didn't turn you in - for now.”

Later that night, he doesn’t reach for the scarf.

Doesn’t wrap it around his throat like armor.

Doesn’t need to.

Because your scent clings to the jumper he wore - honeyed and soft, threaded through with cinnamon and something warmer he can’t name. Something alive.

He buries his face in the fabric, lets the night fold around him.

And for the first time in a long while, he sleeps like he wasn't being crushed under the weight of the moon.

Sixth-year : January 6, 1977

You don’t mean to listen in on the Marauders.

You were just on your way back from the kitchens - late again, as always - and your steps slowed outside the hospital wing out of something you didn’t want to name. It’s the morning after a full moon. And even if no one else says it out loud, your body seems to know. The air feels different. Heavier. Like it’s holding its breath.

You hear the tail-end of voices.

Remus, angry. Fraying at the edges in that quiet, splintered way he always tries to hide.

“I told you to leave me.”

James, patient - always the one trying to stitch everything back together. “We just wanted - ”

“You don’t get it,” Remus snaps, bitter like blood in the mouth. “You can’t.”

“We do, mate,” Sirius cuts in, uncharacteristically soft - careful, like he knows the cracks. “That’s why we’re here.”

Remus exhales, and it sounds like it hurts him to do so. “Then stop pretending you can fix it, I almost killed Wormtail last night!”

A pause. The kind that stretches and settles in the hollow of your throat.

Then footsteps.

You start to back away, heart hammering, limbs sluggish with indecision - but James steps into the corridor and spots you before you can vanish, caught like a secret you didn’t mean to keep.

He doesn’t startle. Just stops. Looks at you like he expected this. Like he knew exactly where you’d be.

“He’s not himself right now,” James says, voice even but not unkind. “But you calm him down. More than any of us.”

You blink at him, trying to figure out just what he meant by those words, then blink again - because your hands suddenly feel too empty. Too full. Like they’re holding something invisible and precious and terrifying all at once. You nod.

“Go,” James says, softer now, “he needs you.”

The hospital wing smells like potion fumes and something burnt. Something scorched at the edges, like a fire only just put out.

You step in quietly.

He’s curled on his side, back to you. Bandages at his ribs, neck, arms - he looks like someone who’s lost a war he never volunteered for. Someone still bleeding from it.

You pause at the foot of the bed, uncertain.

“Remus?” you say softly, like saying his name too loud might break something.

No response.

You glance around. Madam Pomfrey’s not here. The salves are still out on the side table, lids half-off, like someone left in a rush. Like they couldn’t stand to stay.

“I can help,” you offer, voice gentle, fingers already reaching. And when he still says nothing - no yes, no go away - you take that as a maybe.

This is it, the silent confirmation that you knew what you knew - not much else to say about it. But this one move was the last hit to break the dam.

You kneel beside the bed, the stone floor cold against your knees. Your fingers find the jar of ointment. Your hands don’t shake - but only because they’ve done this before. Only never like this. Never with so much quiet wrapped around you both.

You dab the salve to the edge of a wound along his ribs. He flinches. A breath hitches.

“Don’t,” he says, voice wrecked and raw around the edges.

You hesitate, jar in one hand, salve catching the light. “You need it.”

“Don’t feed it,” he whispers, like a prayer, a plea disguised as a warning, “you keep poking the wolf. Without meaning to.”

You go still.

He doesn’t look at you. Just stares at the ceiling like it’s safer than your face.

“Most days I feel more like it than me,” he says. “The wolf wakes up earlier. Stays longer. It’s harder to pull away.”

A pause, jagged.

“And then there’s you.”

You don’t move. You’re afraid if you do, he’ll stop.

“You,” he says again, like it costs him something. “With your scarves. And your tea. And your smile. You keep being kind. And I can’t take kindness. I latch onto it. I have latched onto it.”

Another pause. One that sinks into the space between your ribs.

“Don’t feed it. It’ll come back.”

Like a starving stray that has known kindness for the first time ever.

You set down the jar. Slowly, deliberately.

Then you reach for his hand - the one resting awkwardly near his side, too still to be comfortable. You take it gently, hold it like it’s already breaking.

He stiffens.

You don’t let go. You squeeze. Just enough to be felt.

And then, finally, you force him to meet your eyes. “That’s not so bad, is it?”

And he looks at you like you’ve set something in him on fire - or maybe put it out. You’re not sure which would be worse.

You squeeze his hand again.

“I’m still here.”

He doesn’t say anything.

But when he finally falls asleep, it’s without the scarf.

And your scent lingers. Treacle and something warm. Something alive. Something his wolf doesn’t want to chase away.

Sixth-year : January 10, 1977

The Great Hall is alive with golden light and louder voices, laughter ricocheting off enchanted ceilings and floating candles. Someone at the Hufflepuff table is singing a ridiculous version of the school song - loud, off-key, and entirely too enthusiastic for this early in the morning.

You’re sitting between Marlene and Mary, halfway through your toast and entirely caught in the middle of an argument about Quidditch that’s escalating in volume and absurdity.

“You couldn’t even smack a Bludger if it has been yelling at you to be hit,” Marlene snipes across the table at Sirius, who grins - all teeth and mischief - and leans over to smear jam onto the sleeve of her robe like it’s a personal victory.

“Oh please, I don't even need to look to hit,” Sirius says, smug. “I'd hit that.”

“You smack like a toddler with noodle arms.”

Peter snorts into his pumpkin juice, nearly spilling it. Mary leans into his shoulder, her hand curled around her cup, and whispers something that makes Peter turn a particularly impressive shade of red.

You glance across the table to where Remus is sitting, posture relaxed but eyes too still. He’s reading. Or pretending to read. His eyes flick up the second you laugh - then dart back to the page like he hadn’t been watching you for the past fifteen minutes. Like he didn’t already know the shape of your voice when it’s soft with amusement.

James doesn’t notice a thing. He’s too focused on Lily Evans, who is seated two tables away, expertly ignoring him with the kind of grace that only makes James Potter want her more.

You nudge Marlene’s knee under the table. “Do you think Potter has ever blinked around her?”

“No,” she replies, taking a casual sip of tea. “I think he’s saving them all up for a dramatic flurry when she finally says yes.”

You nearly spit your drink laughing.

Later that week - same messy group, same noisy chaos, but the setting’s shifted. The common room is a sprawl of limbs and parchment and unfinished essays. Firelight flickers gold across tired faces.

James is doodling something on his supposed Transfiguration essay (you assume it’s Lily-related - possibly tragic, definitely dramatic), Sirius is lounging upside-down on the couch and attempting to convince Marlene to let him smack a Bludger to her to test how long a bruise would last. . . for science.

“The people must know, there is a thirst for knowledge” he insists, waving an imaginary wand like it’s a microphone.

“All you have in you is thirst, you wanker,” Marlene says without looking up.

You’re sitting on the floor, legs crossed beside Remus.

He’s reading about werewolf legislation reforms - you recognize the spine immediately. You gave him that book last Christmas, carefully wrapped with no tag, as if anonymity might soften the meaning behind the gift.

You’re flipping through Fantastic Beasts for what has to be the hundredth time, hunting for a creature you haven’t already committed to memory. The pages are worn and curling at the corners. You like it better that way.

“You ever consider writing Scamander a letter?” Remus murmurs, his voice quiet, his eyes still on the page. “I think he’d actually love to hear from someone who’s read his book so many times the corners are falling apart.”

You shrug, but there’s a smile in it. “What if I sound like a fan? Or worse - like I want to marry his Niffler or something?”

Remus glances at you then, mouth twitching. “You’d probably take better care of it than most people.”

And for a second, just a second, there’s something in his eyes. Something soft. Something oddly mournful, like he’s mourning something that never had the chance to begin.

You look away first.

Sixth-year : February 19, 1977

Saturday morning: the boys’ dormitory, loud and warm and cluttered with socks and open books.

You’re not there, of course.

But your name echoes anyway.

“Did you hear?” Marlene’s voice bounces into the boys’ dorm via the open stairwell. “She had been invited to a date at Hogsmeade today!”

Peter blinks, mid-yawn. “Wait. Who said yes to what?”

“____,” Marlene announces, practically beaming. “Said yes to a Hogsmeade date with that cute Puff. You know the one who messed up the Bubble-Head Charm and nearly drowned himself.”

Sirius lets out a low whistle. “Bet Moony is thrilled.”

James nudges Remus with his foot. “You gonna let her slip away like that, mate?”

“She’s not mine to begin with,” Remus says. He doesn’t look up from his book.

But the boys notice. They notice the way his hand tightens on the spine, how his thumb presses hard against the edge. How he hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes.

Then a second date. Then a third.

Each time, you return laughing. Bright-eyed, breathless, the sleeves of your jumper dusted with cold air and crumbs from Honeydukes. You say he’s funny. You say he always forgets the way to Madam Puddifoot’s and insists on turning right at least three times. You say he tripped on his own shoelaces and tried to pretend it was a dance move.

You never say romantic. Never say interested.

You keep saying friend.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because every time you tell the story, Remus hears it in the space between your words.

He hears it because he’s always listening for you. Even when he wishes he wouldn’t.

The fourth date happens on a crisp Sunday morning in late-April. The kind of morning where the sun pretends it’s warm but the wind says otherwise.

You meet him outside the gates, scarf tucked around your neck, mittens on your hands. You’re unaware that Marlene is watching from the entrance like a hawk.

By dinner, she’s had enough.

“Four dates is basically a proposal,” she declares at the table, voice cutting through conversation like a blade.

Sirius chokes on his pumpkin juice.

The boys freeze.

James lowers his fork slowly. “Is that. . . is that a real rule?”

“It is now,” Marlene says, matter-of-fact.

Peter side-eyes Remus. “Well. Better start planning the wedding.”

Remus says nothing.

Just folds the scarf you gave him - the one he never wears in public, but always carries anyway - and tucks it back into his pocket. The same way he always does when his hands are shaking.

Seventh-year : September 24, 1977

Sixth year ended in a blur of exams and the golden haze of summer seeping into every hallway. Marlene starts a game where she dramatically announces “End of an Era” every time someone does anything - eating a last toastie, turning in their final essay, waving goodbye to a professor.

She nearly burst into tears when you all board the train home. She insists she isn’t crying, just “suffering from seasonal sentimentality,” but even Sirius hugs her twice - some appeasement -

But seventh year comes faster than you expect.

James gets Head Boy. Lily Evans, Head Girl.

And you? You find your name stitched in gold thread into a seventh-year Prefect badge - and beside it, written as if it was always meant to be, is Remus J. Lupin as your male counterpart.

James beams when he sees the list. “Match made in Prefect heaven,” he says, far too pleased with himself.

Remus narrows his eyes. “You did this.”

“Me?” James clutches his chest, mock-offended. “I would never meddle in school administrative affairs. Except when I do.”

Remus sighs, but there's a flush blooming at his collar, subtle but unmistakable.

That Friday, you’re on your first patrol of the year - the corridors are torch-lit and unusually quiet, with that soft, heavy hush that only Hogwarts seems to have at night. Every step echoes like a secret, every laugh feels louder than it should.

You’re making dumb jokes about Peeves trying to charm the Ravenclaw bronze eagle knocker into falling in love with him when Remus suddenly asks it.

“So,” he says, voice casual but noticeably strained, “how’s your boyfriend?”

You blink at him, trying to figure out just what he meant by those words, then blink again, slower this time, processing the implication.

“My what?”

He glances over at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “That boy - the one from last year. Weren’t you seeing him? You went on 4 dates - ”

You laugh, quick and surprised, shaking your head. “You mean Truman from Charms? That wasn’t - oh, no. I didn’t even realize those were dates ‘til Marlene started threatening to sketch out my wedding dress.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. Just keeps walking - like he was starting to rewrite everything in his head.

You glance sideways and grin. “I’m single, Remus. Wildly, tragically single. You could even ask me out, if you wanted.”

Remus nearly trips over his own feet. You were too bold, but then again - you wore red robes.

“What?” he says, voice pitched higher than usual, startled and almost horrified. “You - you’d want - ?”

“Remus,” you say, barely holding back a laugh as you nudge your shoulder into his, “how about it? Next Hogsmead weekend? Or do I need to formally petition the Department of Magical Creatures to approve a date with you?”

He’s still pink in the ears. It spreads slowly, like the blush is rising against his will.

“You’re very high maintenance,” you tease, turning down a corridor as your footsteps fall in sync. “I’ve been flirting for years and you just kept blinking at me like I was a particularly confusing Runes puzzle - you had to make me ask you.”

“I thought you were just. . .kind.”

“I am,” you say, soft but sure. “But not that kind.”

He grins then, wide and stunned, like he’s been holding his breath for a year. “Alright then. It’s a date.”

It appears he's still a Gryffindor after all.

Later that night ; the boys’ dormitory -

Remus walks in dazed, dreamy-eyed, still looking like he hasn’t fully returned to earth.

James glances up from his exploding snap game, eyes narrowing. “You look like you’ve just seen Merlin himself.”

Sirius sniffs the air dramatically. “Do I smell. . .triumph? Or fear?”

Peter leans across his bedpost. “He’s smiling. He never smiles like that unless it's something involving ____.”

Remus blinks once, still dazed. “She asked me out.”

The room erupts.

James throws his deck into the air, cards scattering like confetti. “Finally!”

Sirius howls like an actual wolf. “The wolf has RISEN!”

Peter nearly falls off his bed laughing. “Do you need help picking out an outfit? I can lend you my cologne. It’s French.”

Remus groans, flopping back onto his bed with the dramatic flair of someone halfway between overwhelmed and elated. “I hate all of you.”

Sirius pelts him with a sock. “You love us, you fucking sap.”

You should be glad you didn't get to watch the chaos, or you'll recall your 13 year old self and confirm that yes, boys still are very weird.

Seventh-year : October 15, 1977

You tug your scarf tighter around your neck, the ends whipping in the wind, cheeks already pink from the chill. But the warmth curling in your stomach has nothing to do with the weather. It builds quietly, steadily, like something planted long ago finally beginning to bloom.

Remus is already waiting outside the Three Broomsticks, hair wind-tousled and eyes soft. He’s smiling at you like he still can’t quite believe you’re real, like this moment is something borrowed from a dream he’s too afraid to wake up from -

Perhaps this has played out in his dreams.

“You came,” he says, voice soft with disbelief.

You blink at him, then you snort. “I asked you.”

“I know,” he replies, glancing away like he’s embarrassed by his own hopefulness. “Still feels like a dream.”

Honeydukes -

He offers you his arm like a gentleman out of time, and you loop yours through it without hesitation. It fits - effortlessly, like this has always been waiting in some quiet corner of the universe.

Inside Honeydukes, the air is thick with sugar and nostalgia. You ramble about the magical properties of Fizzing Whizzbees, the way their carbonation interacts with wizarding blood to produce temporary levitation. Then you’re onto exploding bonbons, and how they mimic Puffapod seed reactions when dropped at the right angle.

Remus listens like your words are music. His smile is quiet but wide, the kind that settles deep into the bones. He doesn’t interrupt, just watches you like your joy is something sacred. When you finally pause, mid-sentence and mid-laugh, he holds out your favorite sweet without saying a word.

“For the creature expert,” he says, and it sounds like something more than just a joke.

Through Town -

You walk slowly, deliberately, letting the afternoon stretch itself out. The sky is a soft watercolor of clouds, and your footsteps leave gentle prints in a thin veil of snow.

You pause at the post office and point at the rows of owls. “Great Greys mate for life,” you say, all faux-seriousness and scientific pride.

Remus makes a quiet noise in his throat. “Lofty standards,” he mutters. “Terrible pressure, really.”

You laugh, loud and sudden, and he turns to look at you like he’s trying to memorize the sound - like he could bottle it and keep it in his pocket for later.

Madam Puddifoot’s -

“I swear I didn’t know it would be this. . . pink,” you whisper as you both slide into the lace-covered booth, eyes wide at the heart-shaped sugar bowls and twinkling fairy lights.

“I did,” Remus says, and there’s something suspiciously smug in the way he hides a grin behind his teacup.

You shoot him a betrayed look. “You listened to James bloody Potter?”

“To be fair,” Remus replies, sipping from the floral rim, “he is in a long-term campaign for Evans’ heart. Something must’ve worked.”

You both giggle, quietly conspiratorial. The table feels impossibly small, the air around you steeped in rose-scented steam and unspoken things. He reaches for the sugar at the same time you do, and your fingers brush.

Neither of you move for a second too long.

Shrieking Shack Hill -

As the sun begins to dip below the trees, the two of you find yourselves at the top of the hill, under the old tree that’s watched over this strange little shack for decades.

“I used to think that place was haunted,” you murmur, voice quiet with memory.

Remus hums beside you, low and thoughtful. “It is.”

You glance at him, surprised by the certainty in his tone. But he’s watching the horizon, face unreadable, wind threading through his hair.

Then he turns. His eyes meet yours, and they soften, all the armour gone.

“Thank you,” he says, the words carrying more weight than you expect. “For all the scarves. And the tea. And the creature facts. And. . .for not running.”

Your heart stutters. You blink, then breathe in slowly, steadying yourself against the gravity of the moment. “I wasn’t planning to. Not then. Not now.” Not ever.

Silence settles over you both, thick with promise. Not awkward - just full. Like the world is holding its breath.

Then you smile. “Did you know bowtruckles won’t let anyone near their trees unless they like them?”

Remus chuckles, warm and real. “Are you comparing yourself to a bowtruckle?”

You shake your head, nudging his shoulder with yours. “No, I’m comparing you to one. Grumpy. Guarded. Weirdly charming - green and cute.”

He throws his head back and laughs, loud and unguarded. For a moment, you think you’ve never seen him look quite so alive.

Seventh-year : October 15, 1977 - in the evening

The Gryffindor common room was golden with firelight, every velvet surface draped with seventh-years in varying states of homework neglect. Someone had spelled the windows open just enough to let in the crisp night air, and it smelled like leaves, candle smoke, and the faintest hint of caramel. The kind of night that made even essays about goblin rebellions feel a little romantic.

You were curled into the corner of the couch, knees pulled up as Remus sat beside you, quiet and warm, his fingers occasionally brushing yours on the cushion between you. You weren’t holding hands, not exactly -

“Alright, someone spill it,” Marlene declared, sitting on the armrest of the sofa with her legs dangling over the side, Mary sat properly on it next to her. “Potter has been suspiciously quiet for the past two hours and Evans is pink in the cheeks.”

Lily groaned. “Oh, Merlin’s sake - ”

“She said yes!” James blurted before she could protest. He was practically vibrating where he sat, one leg over the other armrest of his chair, looking like someone had hit him with a cheering charm. “We’re going to the next Hogsmeade weekend. Together. As a couple - I'll propose then.”

The room exploded. Sirius let out a fake sob and clutched his chest. Peter whooped. Mary clapped like it was the Quidditch Cup final.

You could only stifle your laughter behind your hand.

“About bloody time,” you muttered, nudging Remus with your elbow. He smirked.

Lily rolled her eyes but didn’t stop smiling. “Propose on the second date and we are breaking up before a monthsarry.”

“Third date then,” James said, positively beaming.

Mary twirled a strand of Lily’s hair around her finger lazily. “Love is in the air,” she declared. “Must be something in the tap water this year.”

Peter looked up from where he was cross-legged on the rug. “Or the food. Might be time to test the pumpkin juice.”

“Please do,” said Marlene. “Because if I had to watch another moment of unspoken yearning between you idiots, I was going to take matters into my own hands.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I had the love potions ready,” she deadpanned. “Evans and Potter over there, obvious as sin. And you two - ” she pointed between you and Remus, “were worse.”

Your cheeks flushed. Remus let out a soft laugh, dropping his head to you, face hidden into your hair - you blush harder.

“Unlike bloody Evans who was stubborn as fuck,” said Mary. “You two were just bloody idiots plain and simple.”

“Harsh,” Peter quipped, half-heartedly.

“Oh shut up,” Remus mumbled, but there was no real bite in it. His hand brushed yours again, firmer this time. You let it happen.

Then, because Peter had never known when to stop: “So Marlene, you and Sirius have been getting close, huh? All that Quidditch banter. . . odds on a third Gryffindor couple forming?”

There was a beat. Everyone turned.

Marlene blinked once. “Peter, I’m gay.”

Sirius made an offended sound - obviously holding back his laughter while a glint is seen in his eyes - like he always knew. “What? And here I thought we had something special!”

“You have brain damage,” she replied cheerfully, folding her arm to rest it on Mary's head.

The room dissolved into laughter again. Even Lily cracked a grin as she leaned into James. Mary chatises Marlene for messing with her hair.

And amidst the chaos - the comfort of old jokes, the glow of firelight, the echo of seven years of shared history - Remus leaned just slightly into you. His hand found yours, finally, properly this time. No accidental brushes. No scarf between you.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to.

The common room hummed with joy, and for once, no one was pretending not to notice.

end. masterlist

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #andrew garfield #andrew garfield as remus lupin #young remus lupin #young remus #marauders x reader #hp marauders #marauders #marauders era

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sdmnpact · 2 months ago

Text

"Is that my shirt?"

George Clarke x Reader ff

[] Good Friends with Arthur Hill

[] Arthur Hill invites you to film a drunk cooking videos, things get messy, and you end up in George's shirt.

~~~

"Hey you guys, I'm here with one of my best friends, Y/n!" Arthur pointed at you as you came into the frame waving your arms around. "Hey!! Thanks for inviting me!" You said cheerfully. "Glad you're here! So, today we're gonna be baking a cake BUT we're gonna be getting drunkkk!" He said in a singing song tone. "AND only one of us gets to see the recipe!" He said excitedly showing off the bottle and paper.

You were sorta of excited for this because you always enjoy a good drink with Hill. You two began getting everything in order, setting up the ingredients, shot glasses and cleaning the surfaces. "Okay lets begin." He said clapping his hands together.

You both started off with a shot each. You whinced as the liquid burned your throat. Arthur insisted that he give the instructions and you would mainly fix the ingredient proportions. "Okay pour all your dry ingredients~" he went on listing them as you tried pouring the correct measurements. "New rule! Each time you spill something, thats a shot! Aside from the 1 shot every 20 minutes!" He said in a matter of fact tone raising a finger.

You looked down at the giant mess of flour you made before he said that. "Oh thats just not fair!" You tried contending. "Drink up!" He semi shouted. You sighed as you poured yourself another shot, his eyes focused on you making sure you dont under pour. You poured it back whincing once again at the sensation. "Oh! Look at that, 20 minutes passed, another shot!" He said snickering to himself. You groaned as you poured two more shots.

After a while, you were starting to feel the effects, spilling more as you felt more tipsy. Arthur was getting noticeably drunker as well as you lot were just laughing and making a huge mess instead of making the cake and homemade frosting, well attempting to at least.

By the end of the video, the cake was a lopsided mess and you two were hammered. You were both covered in flour, your clothes somehow dripping with some liquid. "Ew, Arthur, do you have something I can wear?" You asked trying to pull your shirt off. "Oh yeah, give me a second." He said walking off down the hallway leaving you standing in the living room with a sports bra. He returned wearing some fresh clothes and tossed you a large tshirt. You quickly pulled it over yourself.

"Wanna stay here for the night then?" He said lazily as he plopped on the couch. "Sure, cant get an uber like this." You said pointing at yourself. "Im gonna throw my clothes in the wash" you said as he nodded.

You stumbled to the washer machine and took off your pants placing both your clothes inside turning it on. You were quite comfortable with Arthur, you guys tried dating a while back ago but you weren't right for each other. You guys became good friends after that and you frequently hang out. You're also somewhat good friends with his roommates but you dont hang out with them unless Arthur is there. He said they were out tonight so you shouldn't expect them home too soon. That was good news for you because you were just walking around in a large tshirt and underwear.

You were walking back towards the living room until you heard another voice. You slowly creeped around the corner and saw George. You felt yourself get nervous because you didn't want him to see you like that. Either way you were gonna have to walk out eventually. You walked towards the couch hoping he didnt notice how you were dressed.

"Oh hey Y/n! -Um, is that my shirt?" He asked. You turned to look towards him, he looked really nice. He had on a loose fitted shirt that revealed a lot of his chest and his hair was especially curly. "Oh- is it? My bad." Arthur said turning to face you then turning back towards the tv. You mentally scolded him for not telling you that it was George's shirt. "Im sorry, I can change if you'd like!" You said nervously.

"No- its alright. It actually looks better on you than me." He chuckled causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. "I thought you weren't gonna be here until later." You asked George, finally sitting on the couch near Arthur. He seemed sort of out of it and was focused on whatever was on the tv. "Yeah, it was sort of dead tonight so I thought I should just go home. Im glad I-" he stopped himself. "Yeah just wanted to come home." He finished, changing his words.

You found it slightly strange but chose to ignore it. "Well, do you wanna join us? Im staying over tonight so we were-" I paused and looked towards Arthur, who was struggling to stay awake. "Well we were going to watch movies but it looks like Mr. Hill here, can't handle his liquor." You giggled looking at the red cheeked boy passed out on the couch next to you. "Sure! Might as well have someone keep you company." He said laughing at Arthur, who's head was now leaning back with his mouth open.

George walked over, sitting on the other side of you, making himself comfortable. "Looks like you two had a good night, at least." He said, his focus still on Arthur. "Yeah, we filmed a video and you know how it goes." You giggled feeling slightly embarassed and self conscious that you were slurring your words. "You dont seem as bad- I guess you can actually handle your alcohol." He laughed as you nodded. "Yeah, Im slightly out of it but Im alright." You said.

"Well- are you hungry? I can order us a pizza or something?" He asked. You were kind of hungry and nodded your head. You watched as he pulled up his phone seeing a text from Chris.

Can't believe you ditched me for a girl 😠

A girl? You wondered who they were talking about but looked away once he began asking what you wanted. You both agreed on pizza and some toppings as he made the order. Your attention went back to the tv, you were watching Rush Hour as Arthur had put it on before he passed out.

"Do you like this movie?" George asked. "Yeah, its funny." You responded, he just nodded. You two spent the rest of thirty minutes watching the movie until the food arrived. He brought it over to you and brought you some plates. "I dont suppose you want another alcoholic beverage?" He asked with a smile. You shook your head. "No, just a soda for me please." He nodded and brought you one, grabbing a beer for himself. Arthur was still there, his sleeping body just adding to the ambiance.

You both continued watching the movie while eating until it was over. "So, what do you wanna do now?" He asked scrolling through the selection of movies. "We could makeout?" You said jokingly. You noticed how he stiffened, now sitting upright. You regreted your little joke. "Im kidding." You said trying to save yourself from the awkwardness that was seeping in.

"I know... but..." he started leaving you wondering what his next words were going to be. "What if you weren't kidding.." he said, fiddling with his fingers. You went wide eyed thinking about what he meant. Your mind was spiraling now. "What do you mean?" You asked nervously. "You don't understand, do you?" He asked, standing in front of you now. You shook your head slowly.

"He likesss youuuuuuuuugh!" You heard suddenly, both of your heads whipping to look towards Arthur, his eyes still closed and his head still titled back. "Is that true?" You asked, looking back towards George. "Thanks a lot, Arthur." He said as Arthur just waved him off. George came closer, grabbing your hand, beckoning you to stand up. You struggled a bit, but he held you tightly. "Yes. I like you, Y/n." He said with an awkward chuckle. "I've actually liked you for a while-"

"He watches all your videos, he always asks me to invite you over, he-" "OKAY! Thanks Arthur, Ive got it from here!" George said, trying to get Arthur quiet. "Out with it then!" Arthur responded, turning in his seat, hugging a pillow in a fetal position. "Yeah, you dont think I'm weird now, do you?" He asked for reassurance.

"Of course not." You said, placing a hand on his cheek. "I think it's quite sweet, actually." You grinned widely. You felt your heart flutter at this sudden confession. You never really had eyes for George, but you always found him so interesting and funny. You have to admit, you also watched most of his videos and would occasionally steal a glance or two whenever you're in the same room.

"Do you think you'd fancy a date with me then?" He asked sheepishly. "I would love to!" You replied, smiling from ear to ear. "Yay..." You heard a very low but cheery sound coming from the ball on the couch. "Thanks, Arthur!" You beamed happily. Suddenly, he sat upright. "You're welcome, BUT I want to be the best man or maid of honor at the wedding." He said seriously. "You've got it, mate." George chuckled, looking at you. You spent the rest of the night basically curled up with George while Arthur mustered up enough energy to head to his room. "This doesn't count as a first date, just so you know." He said, his head resting on yours. You smiled melting further into him, feeling safe and comfortable in his arms.

#george clarke #george clarkey #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarke imagine #sidemen #fanfic #british youtubers #sdmnpact

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hotchner-edu · 11 months ago

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Let's Fall Together | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You go on a blind date and accidentally get set up with your best friend's father. — part 2 here

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (r is over 22, Aaron is in his late 40's bc i said so), fluff, Jack being a fool

The ominous pit in your stomach when you first arrived at the restaurant should have been the first indicator that something was terribly askew. The second should have been the fact that Jack was almost too eager to set you up with someone when you mentioned wanting to date.

Yet, you somehow ignored those warning signs and now you were sat in a fancy Italian restaurant with Jack’s father.

“Mr. Hotchner…” You say breathlessly, mouth going dry as you stare at the man like a fish out of water.

Approximately three minutes had elapsed since Aaron had entered the restaurant and was led to the table you were sitting at. Jack had made the reservation under his name and told you the only rule was that you actually show up and give it a chance.

Aaron had walked toward your table with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, eyes taking in your stunned figure.

“You can just call me Aaron, sweetheart.” Aaron raises his eyebrows a bit in amusement, looking a bit confused about the entire situation as well. He had always been adamant that you call him by his first name whenever you came over to his house to hang out with Jack, but now that same sentiment seemed a bit more intimate given the current circumstance.

You clear your throat softly and nod, smiling a bit shyly as you try to gather your thoughts. “So… Aaron, you’re my mystery date then?”

“Yes, it would appear so.” He answers back with a little smile that you interpret as one of discomfort, though little to your knowledge, it was actually a nervous smile.

You frown a bit and rest your hands in your lap, trying to search for a way to quickly diffuse the situation without attracting any attention from the diners around you. “Ah… I’m sorry. We don’t have to continue this, I know it must be weird for you.”

“Weird?” He asks, his tone indicating he knew what you meant, but also wanting you to explain anyway.

You nod and continue. “Yeah… I mean, I’m Jack’s friend. So feel free to just head back home, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Are you disappointed?” He asks and places the bouquet of flowers on the table.

Glancing at the flowers, you aren’t sure how to answer. After a few moments, you decide to be honest. “No. I’m not disappointed.”

Aaron gazes at you in contemplation for a second before he regains his bearings and speaks to you softly, his tone kind but also direct. “Well, I wouldn’t mind continuing our date… If that’s okay with you?”

You stare at him, trying to suppress the bright smile that threatens to break out on your face. “I would like that.” The relief and happiness you feel cannot be masked in your tone, and Aaron immediately picks up on it, his shoulders relaxing as he nods back to you.

Dinner with Aaron goes without a hitch and conversation flows naturally with him. In the three years you’ve been best friends with Jack, you were certain you'd only ever spoken to Aaron in private a handful of times, and you were starting to kick yourself for it as you begin to realize just how wonderful your chemistry together was.

When you’re both done eating, you begin to pull out your wallet, smiling from ear to ear from the eventful night.

“Dinner’s on me, honey.” Aaron says softly and reaches over to scoot the bill closer to his side of the table.

“Aren’t blind dates supposed to be split?” You ask with a grin, silently relenting and putting your wallet away despite your words.

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head as the waiter comes back to collect the check and his card. “Is that so? I don’t have much experience with blind dates, but I thought that happens when a second date is out of the question.”

You gape at him a bit and smile in disbelief, your thoughts a whirlwind as you picture yourself on another date with him. “Is that the rule? Well, I have a hard time believing that you don’t go on very many blind dates. I mean you’re a catch, Aaron.” You blush a little at how the words seem to spill out before your brain can restrain your tongue.

To your utter bafflement, you see his cheeks turning a bit pink along with his ears as he tries to wave off your words. “I appreciate that but believe me, it’s been quite a long time since I’ve been on a date.”

“I somehow still doubt that. Though, I suppose most women may be a bit intimidated to make a move on you.” You comment, thinking back to your own reluctance and personal vow to die with your crush on him.

Aaron gives you a fond smile that has your heart stopping momentarily, his eyes twinkling under the dim pendant lights of the restaurant. “You think so?” His voice is smooth and pleasantly wrapping you in a warmth that further drags you down into your embarrassingly massive crush on him.

“Yeah.” You nod with a small quirk of your lips. “The soccer moms at Jack’s games certainly admire from a distance… I think you just have this aura about you.”

“I must look very unapproachable in a t-shirt and jeans then.” He jokes softly and wordlessly reaches for your hand on the table, his larger fingers brushing against yours.

You nod gently and respond in a near whisper. “Oh, definitely. I reckon you’re even more intimidating when you’re wearing something other than a suit.” You glance down at his black button up, trying to rein in your wild thoughts.

“Should I wear a polo shirt during interrogations then?” He grins and slips his fingers between yours.

“It would mean less dry cleaning.” You tilt your head and shift your gaze to your joined hands.

Aaron’s thumb rubs against yours gently. “You’re right, but I have an image to maintain unfortunately.” He quips with a playful grin, his eyes staying on yours as the world around you both seems to melt away.

“Well, I envy your coworkers. They get to see you in a suit everyday.” You say with a sudden burst of confidence as the waiter walks back with the receipt and Aaron’s credit card.

Aaron’s grin widens a bit as he thanks the waiter and looks back at you. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I’m choosing what to wear for our next date.”

"Well, perhaps you can pick me up next time too so we have no more surprises in restaurants." You say with a flustered smile, watching him write out a generous tip and put away his card before pushing his seat back.

Aaron nods in agreement at your words before he stands up and walks around the table, offering his hand to you. When you're both walking out of the restaurant, his hand is on the small of your back and you're clutching the bouquet of flowers to your chest.

"You know... Jack's known about my crush on you for a while." You admit bashfully, feeling a dizzying high rush through you from how surreal the night has been.

Aaron looks stupefied by the revelation and he chuckles softly, his hand rubbing your back a bit as he walks you down the sidewalk. "Really now? And how long have you had a thing for me?" He asks with an amused grin.

"It's silly, really... but it started when you came back home after that case in Wisconsin while I was over studying with Jack. You walked in and threw your tie off, and I don't know..." You stumble a bit on your words as you recount the memory, omitting some other vivid details from that encounter as to not give away how often you think back to that day.

He gives a deep chuckle at your answer, his hand moving from your back to squeeze your waist a little. "I'm starting to see a trend here with you and me in suits."

"Yeah, yeah, well I gave up my story, what's yours? I mean, when did you realize you were interested in me, even if it was just a little." You teasingly ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you subtly lean in closer to his side.

Aaron looks off into the distance as he confesses, a small boyish grin tugging at his lips. "When you brought Jack back home from a party last year. He was completely wasted and you were all disheveled in your pajamas, scolding him while he was unconscious."

"Me in sweatpants gets you hot under the collar, does it?" You suppress a laugh, smiling widely as you think back to that night. Jack had stayed out at a club and taken enough shots to send any ordinary person into the emergency room, but he had called you in a drunken haze at three in the morning, begging for you to take him home.

Before he can retort, you feel your phone ringing and you peek down at it. "Ah, speak of the devil." You sigh, showing Aaron the caller ID before picking up.

"Hey, what's up?" You ask casually, feeling Aaron leading you further into the parking lot and toward his car.

Just from his tone, you can tell he's sporting a smug grin. "You haven't called to complain. I was starting to worry you were dead. So, the date went well then?"

Aaron helps you into the passenger seat of his car as you respond with a pleased lilt in your voice. "More than well, but don't let that get to your head."

But of course, it does anyway. "I told you! You didn't trust me when I said you needed to just put yourself out there. I'm relieved though. I was worried you'd be obsessed with my dad for forever." He replies with a victorious chortle.

"Okay, fine, whatever, thanks for setting him up with me." You smile happily, watching as Aaron lifts your hand to give a kiss to your knuckles before he turns on the car engine.

Jack gives a faux sigh of exasperation, about to continue on his self-satisfied ramble before he immediately pauses. "Wait, what?"

"What?" You ask as Aaron pulls out of the parking lot, his hand mindlessly moving to rest on your knee.

"What do you mean 'setting him up with you'?" Jack asks, suddenly serious and sounding a bit like when he realized he misread his Philosophy exam deadline as being 11:59 pm instead of 11:59 am.

You pause too, glancing at Aaron before answering with an equally reluctant tone. "Uhm... as in, thank you for setting me and Aaron up."

"Huh? What the fuck! You went on a date with my dad?" Jack suddenly gasps out, choking on his spit halfway through. "What happened to Eric?" He wheezes out.

"Eric? Who's Eric?" You ask in confusion.

Jack is silent for a second as you hear muffled tapping followed by him cursing under his breath. "Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I sent you the wrong address."

You tap Aaron's wrist, giving him a look that has him pulling over to the nearest curb and parking. He gives you a small frown and you put Jack on speaker.

"Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" You ask, blushing as Aaron draws shapes on your knee with his finger.

You can almost feel Jack cringing through the phone. "Okay, so I may have set you and my dad up on dates tonight but at different restaurants. And I also may have accidentally sent you the wrong restaurant address."

You and Aaron sit in appalled silence before you breathe in deeply and pinch the bridge of your nose. "You set Aaron up with someone else tonight?"

"Well, yeah! I mean, do you really want to be my stepmom?" He asks in an aghast voice, lacking any genuine disgust and telling you he's not as upset as he's pretending to be.

You suck in a breath and shake your head. "Don't worry, when I'm through with you, Aaron won't have a son anymore."

"In my defense-" Jack starts, sounding a bit more playful now.

"Goodbye, Jack!" You cut him off, hanging up and sighing. Looking up from your phone screen, you meet Aaron's gaze and you both can't contain your amusement anymore.

You snort softly and shake your head. "How mad do you think he would be if we kissed right now?"

Aaron doesn't respond with words, instead leaning over the car's center console to cup your cheek and press his lips to yours. As you're both lost in the kiss, neither of you notice your phone vibrating with text messages and silenced calls.

Jack: You both better be coming back right now

Jack: Answer me

Jack: I swear to god if you guys are making out right now

Jack: Please omg Eric just texted me, it's not too late

Jack: HELLO?!!

Jack: I will be taking credit for this at your wedding

part 2 here

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds aaron imagine #aaron hotchner fic

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

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girlietips · 25 days ago

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How I Fight My Messy Girl Nature🧼🧹🧺

All my life I’ve had to learn to be organized. While I’m not dirty I tend to just set things down and create piles all over my room. I typically have a good idea where everything is until the mess becomes overwhelming and I begin losing things. So I’ve had to really put in work to keep my space neat to prevent my environment from causing me anxiety. Here is all my tips I use on the daily.

Daily 5 things.

Everyday I try and put away five things that were misplaced.

I even put it in my habit tracker so I always remember.

While this doesn’t make my room spotless when I keep up with it consistently my room is way cleaner.

It also helps build the habit of cleaning as you go. Once I started doing this habit my tendency to leave clothes on the floor and shoes everywhere decreased significantly.

2 Weekly 15 minute clean

I choose to do them on Fridays and Sundays as a way of wrapping up a week and then starting fresh.

I set a timer and then clean as fast as possible.

While 15 doesn’t sound like a lot it leaves my room pretty clean and usually I build up enough momentum to finish the clean even after the timer goes off.

Fighting the piles

How I fight my tendency to making piles is with baskets and easy organization .

I never will put my makeup away properly in the morning in a really organized container so instead I have a bin for makeup and a bin for brushes. I am perfectly fine digging through (I don’t have that many products) and it looks cleaner than me just leaving it all over my vanity.

I also have a bin for my papers/mail that I just make sure to go through every now and again.

Shoes.

Shoes are probably my worst habit because I tend to just kick them off and go.

So I gave myself a wrack but I also give myself 3 pairs of shoes that can be off the wrack.

Those are my daily tennis shoes, my house slippers, and my shower shoes. I use these everyday and putting them on the wrack will never happen consistently so I don’t fit it and instead I just gave myself an area to kick the off.

Not the cleanest but at least it’s in one area. And three pairs of shoes on the floor is a lot less than 10.

Laundry

Laundry is also very hard for me because it just takes so long and anything that takes up a lot of my time annoys me.

So whenever I do laundry I make myself a to-do list and try and complete it before laundry gets done.

Sometimes it’s homework, sometimes it’s cleaning.

If I am on a break or just a little more burnt out then usual I’ll take the time and play the sims because that also takes a long time lol.

I also have made it a rule that anytime laundry gets done it has to be folded immediately. Part of this involved getting rid of the laundry chair(iykyk) so there was no where for the laundry to go but in the closet.

Anyway that’s all I have for now. These have really helped me and my tornado tendencies be a lot more tidy especially while at college in a much smaller room that I share.

Xoxo 💋

#that girl #it girl #girlblogging #glow up #self care #self love #coquette #becoming that girl #healthy #healthyliving #clean girl #house cleaning

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i-starcreamed · 7 months ago

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HIHIHI!!! I’ve been looking for D-16/Megatron fics for like a while now, (watched it on early release) and have been SUFFERING cuz there’s nothing out for him.. 😭 But then I came onto tumblr and found ur posts!!! They’ve been such HUGE comfort despite both being angst.. LOL

umum onto my ask… I was hoping to ask for a D-16/Megatron fanfic with him having an immensely huge soft spot for the reader… Practically listening and obeying their every word like it’s the last he’d hear of them.. In more specifics, I mean like D-16 (beginning) can be quite unfazed by most stuff, just being normal about other mechs and yet almost melts completely to what the reader has to say and pays attention to their every move.. Megatron on the other hand is basically the same too, despite changing and being completely different.. (the reader is basically like his second in command since he trusts them so much and they’re on his side)

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

haii tysm :3 I tried to make this soo soft, enjoy. Also I wrote this originally while I was half asleep and the spelling was HORRIBLE idk how I was able to translate this

[ cybertronian!reader Fluff mostly, D-16 being a little angel. Orion third wheeling

As D-16, he was always by your side. You met in the mines, of course, and became friends rather quickly. You knew him as a bot who didn’t care much about others—not in a selfish way, but more in a “I’m just here to do my job” kind of way. He followed the rules, focused on the hope that one day, Sentinel would recognize his efforts and free him from the mines...all of them. He dreamed that one day, Sentinel would see their efforts and let them be among the city dwellers. If only he were created with a cog.

It came as a surprise to everyone when you two started dating, no one expected him to be the type, to be honest. In the mines, he always makes sure Orion and you are being safe. But you, specifically? He was borderline overprotective.

Then one day, the mine was caving in, but you needed just a littttle more energon to meet the day’s requirements. You were never one to not complete your daily tasks. You frantically tried to collect all the raw energon nearest to you...while the tunnel began closing in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?! Come on!” His voice strained with panic, his servo gripping your arm.

You hummed in frustration, keeping your optics on the collapsing tunnel behind you, “Hold on, just one more...I need this o-one piece..” You grit your denta as you stretched for one more chunk of rock.

You were out of time. D-16, realizing the danger, wasn’t about to let you risk it. He knew you'd get pissed about it but oh well...without a second thought, he pulled you away by your arm as his jetpack powered on. You yelped as he tossed you over his shoulder, successfully flying you out of there. Just in time actually.

When he finally set you down on your two pedes, you glanced at your cradled servos.

One single rock of raw energon.

You almost pouted.

“Dee.. this is not enough.” You mumbled, letting the rock fall from your servos.

Much to your surprise, D shook his helm.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. Look, you know what’s important?” He placed his servos on your shoulders, looking deep into your optics with such warmth that made your spark flutter “What’s important.. is that you’re okay.” He gently added, planting a small kiss to your helm.

You grinned. You thought he was so sweet, until he gently nudged your arm.

“Be thankful I saved your aft. Darkwing is probably going to give us an extra-long shift tomorrow,” He teased.

You rolled your optics. “Yeah, to make up for all the energon you made me drop.”

He shrugged, grinning. “I’d rather work a few more hours than lose you, sweet spark. I have my priorities.” He murmured, holding you close. You had the sweetest partner, you knew he wasn’t like this with anyone else.

Another thing about D is that he’s so attentive. You can talking about anything and he’ll be there, his optics never leaving your face. Maybe glancing to your lips, but that’s it. He thinks you look so great when you’re passionately talking about something. Whether you were sharing a tip or telling a story, he hung on your every word, asking questions, eager to listen. If you’re a little gremlin like Orión and enjoy sneaking around, he’s right behind you.

Insert the THREE of you--caught, waiting to possibly be yelled at by superiors.

It had all started because you wanted to explore an abandoned building and got busted in the act.

Orion coughs awkwardly. “Soo… how far down do you think they’ll send us?”

You nervously fiddled with D’s digits. “At least three levels lower.” You murmúred.

D was silent, watching your servo interlock with his. The room was quiet until he felt a pair of optics on him. He glanced up to see Orion staring. “What?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just watching how you never get upset at Y/N when we get caught but when it’s me, I get the five-minute silent treatment.”

“But it wasn’t Y/N's fault.”

“Yeah, Orion, I’m completely innocent. You're just jealous.” You chimed in, grinning.

“Wh-Innocent?! You insisted on staying, even when we heard guards coming towards us. Right, D??"

D hummed thoughtfully. "I think they’re pretty innocent. Accidents happen.” He shrugged, giving you a sweet grin.

“Oh, Primus…” Orion groaned.

Now let’s move onto Megatron.

He was so, so delighted to hear that you wanted to join his side in the end. You thought he loved and was obsessed with you before? He’s even worse now.

He made you his right-hand, his advisor, his confidant, his fiercest warrior—his everything. Whenever he rallied his army, promising to fix Cybertron his way, he would raise his fist as a symbol of his leadership. And yet, even in that powerful gesture, your servo was grasped in his.

He held your servo up alongside his, he was ecstatic. Sure, you might not be as..mad as he was, but you supported him, even kept him in check when necessary. If you two are the same, well you add onto each others crazy :3 (explodes)

#transformers x reader #cybertronian reader #megatron x reader #tf one #tfo x reader #tf1 x reader #d16 x reader

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solecize · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use, underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤm.list | next

you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't

TODAY’S TOP HEADLINE: bts’ rm, jimin, taehyung and jungkook set to enlist in the coming weeks! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤautumn 2023

the confrontation when it rained, it poured and you felt like you haven't seen even a glimpse of the sun in ages. there was a nagging feeling in your gut that it was too far gone, but like everything else for the past ten years, you swallowed it down and swept it under the rug. bad feelings didn’t exist in your relationship. that was the unspoken rule. yet, it was growing more and more difficult to mask the disappointment in your eyes or the frown fighting your lips. today marked the worst of your attempts.

seoul was unusually calm tonight and it scared you. when you moved to the city ages ago to begin your journey as an idol trainee, it was nothing but intimidating for your meek, pre-teen self. eventually, over time, your love for the city bloomed and it was truthfully because of jungkook. once young teenagers that arrived to seoul alone, you found solace in each other and embraced the change as one. he made you fall in love with seoul the same way he made you fall in love with him. dates, nightclubs, late night adventures, and years worth of moments within the city limits.

however, the streets were as hushed as you were, as you gripped your steering wheel like a robot.

the decision had been long made and you knew it was going to come around at some point, so there was no use in fighting it. after going without seeing your boyfriend for months, it should have been nothing but pure excitement.

“you’re awfully quiet,” murmured jungkook, glancing over at you from the passenger seat.

you were already annoyed to begin with, when he mentioned that he was going to have a driver pick him up from the airport, instead of asking for you. it felt like he didn’t even expect to have you waiting for him, considering the two of you had been apart due to his time working in the united states. you thought he’d be insisting for you to be the first person he saw once he came back. these frustrations were on top of several other things, which you’d been dreading to confront for even longer of a time.

and then, there was also the velvet box you spotted in the background of one of your facetime calls. you didn’t bring it up, but it was living in your mind everyday since. with jungkook’s big day fast approaching, there were a lot of conflicting ideas in your head.

you shrugged. “i’ve been filming long hours. not getting that much sleep.”

the look jungkook gave you read that he knew that you weren’t being a hundred percent honest, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes returned to being fixated on his phone.

after over ten years of knowing each other, you and jungkook could see through each other like glass. the only problem was that nobody ever wanted to speak up. you feared the glaring possibility of other buried conflict dating further back into the relationship because of this dynamic.

you didn’t think you deserved the blame for the tension in the air. there were several things in your mind, but jungkook wasn’t exactly a person who could easily mask their emotions. something was off with him, too, and you needed to figure out what it was. you could only hope for the best case scenario because otherwise, it was going to be your worst nightmare. there was no situation you could fathom where his behaviour was a result of an in between.

keeping your voice casual, you asked, “who are you texting?”

“my mom.”

you held back a sigh - jungkook was never particularly keen on involving you with his family. though you’d been together since he was sixteen, you always felt like he kept you an arm’s reach away from that part of your life and you never understood why.

“oh. tell her i say hi,” you said and he hummed in response.

whilst you weren’t in a talkative mood, it wasn’t like jungkook was doing anything to keep the conversation flowing either. you guys obviously texted and called during his time away, but the present atmosphere was awkward, like there was nothing to talk about after his grand return. you hugged and kissed at the airport, asked how his flight was, and that was that. driving him felt like a business endeavour, rather than welcoming your long-term partner back to the country.

after a few minutes, jungkook finally looked up from his phone. upon peering out the window, he grew confused and turned to you.

he questioned, “where are we going? the apartment is in the other direction.”

“just wait,” you assured, forcing a small smile. “take off your hoodie and put on what i have for you in the backseat.”

there was a shopping bag sitting behind jungkook’s seat and he reluctantly reached over, revealing a silk ysl shirt that you picked up that very afternoon. sighing, he did as you asked and made the change. you didn’t care to look over at your boyfriend’s shirtless body, too irritated at the curtness of the conversation.

you just wanted to get to the destination, the heavy silence becoming too much for you. there wasn’t even music on. you found yourself focusing too much on it, as you finally pulled up to the infamous hotel azure. somehow tucked away in the busy songpa district, it is unassuming to the civilian eye, but a well-known name amongst the circles of south korea’s entertainment industry. you didn’t “make it” in entertainment until you attended a party at hotel azure.

jungkook shifted in his seat. “what is this?” his tone was demanding, which immediately put you off. “the plan was to go home.”

to be fair, the last time that the two of you were at the azure hotel, jungkook wound up with a bloody nose after getting into it with an not-to-be-named yg idol at one of jackson wang’s wild parties. you weren’t even sure what happened yourself, bleary eyed for the majority of the night with several substances in your body. hotel azure was for idols at the top of the world with everything to lose, a favourite place of yours around 2018. it was now a place that you actively tried to avoid, but made an exception for the special occasion.

“calm down,” you shot back, not letting him get away with the voice he used. “just wait, i said.”

“i’m tired, y/n,” jungkook pleaded, as you stopped the car for the valet to take.

you ignored him - it wasn’t like it was up to you - and unbuckled your seatbelt, not waiting a second for jungkook.

not only did you pick up your boyfriend from the airport, you also spent hours meticulously preparing your appearance for the night. it didn’t seem like jungkook noticed, other than at the airport, when he questioned why you were wearing high heels.

you never wore heels unless you were working, but that changed when you met jungkook. he loved it when you wore heels and by the time your respective trainee debts were paid, made it a point. you bought platforms with the anticipation of how your boyfriend would go crazy over them. jungkook gifted you designer jimmy choos and pradas whenever you guys got into a fight. it made you feel your prettiest and he showered you with compliments every time.

now, he looked at you oddly for it, like you were doing too much.

jungkook eventually gave up and followed you in without a word, watching you take off your trench coat to reveal a stunning baby pink two-piece dress. the colour glittered under the low lighting of the hotel lobby and the corset accentuated your curves in all the right aways. except, he still did not say a word. this made you frown.

you handed off your coat to an employee and jungkook did the same. the lobby was empty, but you and jungkook knew exactly where to go, making a beeline for the elevator and pressing the button to move up to the penthouse suite.

“why didn’t you warn me about this?” he grumbled under his breath, adjusting his shirt in the mirror.

because that’s how surprise parties work, you wanted to reply. unfortunately, this was not a surprise party that you wanted to celebrate, so you didn’t even try to keep jungkook excited. you were both quiet, irritable, and only wanted to go home.

you said, “this is the part where i cover your eyes and lead you out.”

jungkook complied and you placed your perfectly manicured hands over his line of vision. other than sharing a hug and kiss earlier, this was the closest you’d physically gotten to your boyfriend in months. your hands were cold and you were close enough that he could hear your breathing - all too uncomfortable.

the elevator dinged and you nudged jungkook to step forward. the penthouse’s lights were off, but you could make out the shuffling of feet from behind the kitchen counter. it looked like everything was set up and pristine. then, in just a beat, the entire room lit up and you removed your hands from jungkook’s eyes.

“SURPRISE!”

the floor rumbled, voices roaring and bodies popping out from different places - behind pillars, couches and the bar. jungkook’s eyes brightened in a way that you had yet to see since reuniting with him earlier and it made your heart sink. you hadn’t realized how dull his demeanour was around you until something else actually made him smile.

his closest friends and family gathered in the penthouse and there was a large, golden banner that hung from the walls that said “welcome back jungkook!” the other wall was decorated with another banner, but this one said “good luck rm, v, jimin and jungkook!”

jungkook’s older brother was the first one that enveloped him into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him, then his mom. this was followed by the remainder of his band mates that managed to make the party. you awkwardly stood off to the side, a wide smile plastered on your face to mask your despondence. it seemed like jungkook’s exhaustion only existed when he was sitting in a car with you, as his laughter echoed throughout the room.

you caught jungkook’s eye and he already knew how you were feeling. while he exchanged words with other friends, it was namjoon who pulled you to the side.

“hey. you guys did a really great job with the party,” you started, looking around.

the penthouse of the azure hotel was a thing of beauty, with ceiling high windows that looked over the lights of seoul. everything shone and glimmered - the city skyline, the perfect marble floors, the expensive liquor bottles, and hell, even the perfect teeth of the myriad of a-list south korean celebrities gracing this exclusive party. there wasn’t a wrong way to ever throw a party there, but the group made an extra effort to make jungkook’s homecoming a special one.

jungkook was swarmed by several people, all asking about his time in america and how exciting it was. those were the words you used to describe it for him, too, when you sent him off months ago. you watched him take shots with mingyu and eunwoo.

namjoon shook his head, “no, no. this wouldn’t be possible without you,” he said and then glanced at jungkook, “and i’m sure he knows it, too.”

the boys, despite it also serving as a goodbye party before their enlistments, had been helping you plan the surprise for weeks leading up to jungkook’s arrival. it was one of the longest times jungkook had been apart from them and from the country in general, so they wanted to make it extra special. though you were the main mastermind behind the gathering, you initially didn’t want to do it at all.

“yeah, i hope so,” you replied, as you poured yourself a glass of white wine. “you guys all deserve it.”

over the years, jungkook’s band mates slowly became some of your friends, as well. it was somber goodbye for you in all kinds of ways. everyone was preparing to send them off with good luck and high spirits.

the boys were also preparing in their own way. you noticed that taehyung and jimin’s girlfriends were missing from the party, which only confirmed your speculations.

“it was just bound to happen,” said a voice.

it was taehyung who joined you and namjoon in a quiet circle at the corner of the living room. all of the boys looked a little bit sad, despite the celebratory atmosphere, but you read a different kind of story in taehyung’s eyes.

he smiled with a hint of gloom. “you’re looking around for her, right?”

as a fellow idol and also a girlfriend to a member of one of the biggest groups in the world, taehyung’s girlfriend grew to become one of your close confidants in the past few years. you guys were polite before, but this connection created a specific bond that couldn’t be understood by anyone else. however, you hadn’t heard from her in a few days and with her absence at taehyung’s goodbye party, you put two and two together.

to his side, namjoon clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “sorry, man.”

“i hope it was cordial,” you mustered up, ignoring the growing heaviness at the pit of your stomach. you could only hope you weren’t next.

taehyung replied. “she understood, but she wasn’t happy. regardless,” he sighed, “we’re still so young. her career is just blowing up even more, i feel like i’d only be holding her back.”

that was the way it went. when enlistment rolled around for most couples, it was either breaking up or a ring. you looked at your feet, not knowing what to say.

“jimin also told me that he broke things off with - “

a loud yelp squeaked from taehyung, who was abruptly jabbed in the side with namjoon’s elbow. the latter cleared his throat and you recognized that look. namjoon only made that face when he pulled the leader card and needed to put someone in their place. you figured that your worries were transparent to those around you.

namjoon cleared his throat. “not in a chatty mood?”

while you greeted people during the set-up of the party, you realized that you had yet to actually try socializing. things were awkward with jungkook’s parents, who you long suspected didn’t approve of you for various reasons. in general, most people were interested in chatting with the boys, which you didn’t mind. it was a gathering to send them off, after all.

“not really. you guys should go mingle with your friends,” you said, taking another sip of your wine. “it’s your party.”

“i hope i’m not overstepping, but did you and jungkook get in a fight?” taehyung asked.

you blinked slowly. “no. does it seem like it?”

“just seems like he’s nervous about something,” he commented and you noticed namjoon glare at him once more, as if to shut up.

for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of mixed feelings that left you wondering. why would he be nervous? the big visual forming in your mind was a diamond ring. you and jungkook had contemplated marriage in the past year, but it was also the source of many arguments. you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married now, but your mother had been getting into your ear about you getting older. then, there were your respective companies who lost their shit at the idea. but, what really mattered, was jungkook’s opinion. he seemed to wave it off or change the topic at every opportunity, so your hopes for a ring lived in the back of your mind.

despite this, taehyung was right. jungkook looked nervous. he’d been irritated at being dragged to his surprise party - you wondered if it was delusional enough to believe that he had plans for the two of you, instead.

for the rest of the night, you continued to keep to yourself. you weren’t lying when you told jungkook you were tired, but you were determined to stay as long as you could and pretend that you and jungkook weren’t stealing mysterious glances at each other for the entire evening. it was obvious and only made you anxious.

a few hours later and the party only grew in numbers and in noise. you thought you lost him in the crowd, until you left to refill your nth drink and found him talking to his cousin.

the two were smiling and laughing, as his cousin appeared to be showing jungkook pictures on his phone. you assumed it was her newborn daughter - she gave birth just two months before her fiance was to be discharged and now that he was back, the wedding was just around the corner. you remembered jungkook telling you that she was proposed to on the day of his enlistment.

jungkook caught your eye and he immediately looked away - what the hell was that? he even turned slightly and you couldn’t read his lips. something was going on. you watched him shove his hands in his pockets and you swore you saw the shape of a small square inside.

eventually, you grew tired of the tension in the air and the music began to make your head pound. the longer you thought about your partner, the greater your anxieties grew. there was a chance you even just although it was late in the year and a fresh sheet of snow adorned the streets of seoul, you decided it was best to step out into the balcony to take some time to breathe.

nobody else was there, thankfully, and you let out a shiver when you stepped out. the peppermint air dispelled the haze in your head and in your heart, as taking a deep breath was the greatest relief you felt all night. though your muscles remained tense and you knew you wouldn’t last out in the cold, the balcony was a welcome change.

you weren’t sure how long you were outside when the door creaked open and just by the footsteps alone, you knew who it was.

“your guests will miss you,” you said, not even looking behind you.

at this point, you were hugging yourself to stop shivering. a rustle later and you felt a thick blanket drape over your shoulders, the wool of its make completely enveloping you with much needed warmth. you relaxed your shoulders, but couldn’t look jungkook in the eyes.

“something’s wrong. tell me.”

jungkook’s wine stained lips were pulled into a frown and although he hid it well when he was chatting away with his friends and family, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. he sniffled a few times and you knew why, but you decided to bite your tongue. it was his party and he was an adult who could celebrate whatever way he wanted. it was also clear that neither of you had the energy to argue. instead, to his surprise, you raised an arm and gestured for him to come closer.

he sidestepped towards you and although you were shorter, let you wrap some of the blanket around him. his cold arm snaked around your waist and you tensed up again at his touch.

you continued to look out into the skyline. “i was going to say the same for you.”

“i’m really thankful for the party, love,” he ignored your question and pressed a kiss against your temple.

you mumbled under your breath, “it wasn’t easy." this was the first time all night that you were comfortable enough to physically touch jungkook and you suspected alcohol played a role in relieving the tension between you two, but it was always going to be easy to fall right back into routine.

and just like that, you felt a stinging sensation in your eyes. tears welled up and blurred your vision, which only made you turn your head away further from your boyfriend. he caught this immediately, his instincts nothing but natural when it came to you, and pulled you right into his chest.

the sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. the sob was desperate and helpless. it was akin to a toddler who couldn’t do anything by themselves. your voice cracked with each body-shaking sob and you didn’t have the guts to conceal it. your head was buried into jungkook’s new shirt, ruining it, but he only stroked your hair and wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you.

“it’s okay. . .” jungkook cooed and for what seemed like the first time in a while, he sounded like himself.

it wasn’t like jungkook had undergone a drastic change from his time in america, but it was a gradual shift that you felt over a longer period of time. you attributed to the fact that you were no longer teenagers and things weren’t going to be the same as it did ten, even five years ago. that was what you told yourself, but you weren’t sure why you still held on to the old jungkook you knew.

in that moment, he sounded like the fifteen year old boy you met in a convenience store again. he sounded like the jungkook who wrote you disgusting love songs that were horrible, but you adored anyway. he sounded like the man who you talked about children and a big house and an annoying dog with.

as you found the bravery to finally pull away from jungkook’s comforting embrace, you looked up and saw that future in his eyes. his features softened, but he looked sad. your heart sank once again.

“you’re not just crying because i’m enlisting, are you?” he finally spoke, just above a whisper. his tone was certain, barely a question - after ten years together, jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

you froze. there was nothing else you could do but shut your eyes tight, pretending that this wasn’t really happening.

after a beat, you found your voice. “listen. . .we both know what happens after a man enlists. look at taehyung and jimin. look at your cousin.”

over the years, you and jungkook had gone through hell and back. you thought the worst day of your life was when dispatch leaked the news that you were dating five years ago, but you were able to recover. you thought it was the worst day of your life when your breakup was witnessed by the entire world, but you were able to recover. you even thought the worst day of your life was when word got out that you and jungkook got back together, effectively proving that you were weak and were the type of girl to crawl back to her ex. you recovered then, as well.

at the second part of your sentence, you felt jungkook physically tense up.

“is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” he replied.

you don’t know where it came from, but something triggered a spark of anger in you. still, with a tear stained face and a runny nose, you opened your eyes and met his. this was not something you would be able to recover from.

you said, “it hasn’t just been lately, jungkook. you know exactly what’s on my mind, we’ve been talking - “

“ - and you know what my answer has been, baby. you know what kind of position i’m in,” he interrupted, breaking apart from your hold and the blanket he brought for you.

he wasn’t wrong. you did know what kind of position he was in. one of the biggest stars in the world and he had everything to lose, especially with the anxieties looming in the air for him and the rest of his group. every one of them were on their toes as soon as their enlistment dates were finalized, fearing their fade from the spotlight. you and the rest of the world knew that it was bullshit, that the bts was going to be forgotten just because they were going into the military for a few years.

marriage would surely ruin that further, right?

you said, “and you know what position i’m in.”

the careless joys of your early twenties had come and gone, which left you at the mercy of your mother’s constant talks about marriage. not just her, but other family members and even some of your friends. after all, you and jungkook had been together for ten years and you were pushing thirty sooner or later.

you also had your own fears in regard to your career. jungkook once laughed when you expressed your worries about the public no longer finding you young and pretty, but it was a real fear. most girl groups didn’t last more than a few years. many of your contemporaries had long said goodbye to their idol persona and went their separate ways from their band for a new life. you were considered a lucky one to remain with your group and maintain relevance, but for how long? was it time for you to finally settle down? you weren’t granted the same longevity as jungkook’s renowned group and you weren’t bitter about it, but nervous.

snowflakes began to fall once again and as one fell on your eyelashes, you noticed jungkook’s jaw clench.

“we’ve talked about this,” he said and you knew your wandering thoughts about a potential proposal were too good to be true.

you began, “look, i know that things are different for people like us. . “ but, things were changing. in recent years, you watched several of your peers get married and have children without losing their spot in the limelight.

“y/n. . .what made you think i changed my mind?” jungkook sighed, pacing back and forth to calm himself down.

“i just thought. . .”

“i’m sorry, but i wasn’t going to propose before my enlistment.” this time, jungkook’s frustrations melted away and there was genuine sadness in his voice.

he stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. you didn’t know what to say. you really had been pretending that his strange behaviour was because of a hope that seemed impossible now.

you took a deep breath. “you never said no. you made it seem like you were considering it.”

that was what silenced jungkook. it was true, there was never an outright refusal from jungkook. he would say things that implied he would talk to his company again or “with time” it would come. he gave you just enough reassurance, but never confirmation.

continuing, you said, “and you even indulged in keeping the fantasy alive with me. you’re sick for talking about honeymoon destinations with me and suggesting songs we could dance to.”

“hey. i’ve said time ands time again that there is no future where you aren’t by my side,” jungkook tried getting you to look at him, but every time he moved, you turned away.

there was no reason for you to make eye contact. you felt like a fool and if you met his eyes, you knew you would just burst into tears again. then, you thought about your conversation earlier with your friends and your vision became wet again.

“were you planning to break up with me before you enlisted?”

“what? no,” he responded, but you weren’t convinced.

you responded, “it was going to be inevitable, wasn’t it? like jimin and taehyung. you were going to be done with me.”

this time, jungkook forced you to look at him by the chin and your shoulders dropped. there was a crease in between his eyebrows that you don’t remember seeing even just a year ago. he looked more tired than he did as a rookie with barely survivable living standards.

“time really goes by, huh?” you murmured, fighting to keep your voice stable.

“we were never going to break up, love,” jungkook maintained.

still, his words didn’t penetrate further than surface level. you were left numb and the chill of winter in seoul had nothing to do with it. you wished that someone would just call jungkook away, but the party inside continued on without him.

“you bought a ring. i saw it when we video called.”

jungkook’s lips parted. you knew it. you knew you weren’t losing your mind. over the last ten years, you made some crazy accusations for all kinds of reasons. this time was different and you saw it on his face.

even after what seemed like forever, jungkook couldn’t find words to say. the longer he waited to speak, the faster your heart began to race.

he rubbed his temples and finally, he spoke. jungkook spoke and you immediately dropped the blanket he brought for you, dashing right back inside. you walked past every single attendee and ignored the few that cried out your name. you didn’t care what it looked like. you just knew you had to get out of there.

jungkook said there was a ring. he began to open his mouth and explain further, especially when he read the horrified expression on your face, but you wanted no part in it. there was no room for you to think about what that meant. you only saw red.

you weren’t sure why you wanted a proposal so badly. you knew you didn’t care that much about what your mother wanted and getting married was no solution to the prospects of a dying career. you were second guessing if your wishes for a wedding were even genuine.

on the other hand, maybe you intended for the wedding to be a solution to a dying relationship.

LATEST NEWS: hybe dismisses reports that bts’ jungkook and S.IREN’s nova are engaged, seeking legal action against gossip website that went viral for spreading the false rumour

@butnotmontana @rinkud @kookiescutie @nlr1606 @claireshelby @xtrataerrestrial @whoa-jo @tinyxrose @lavendersugarplum @bangtans-momma @firelcrds @sstrongstyle

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #bts au #jungkook au

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spencer-sweets · 1 month ago

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9-1-1 Fic Recs | Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so i am back in the trenches of this ship once again. praying for it to go canon in the next couple of seasons but i am surviving on the crumbs. i made a post before with some old recs but these are ones i have read recently.

[this rec list is incomplete and will be updated as I find more fics I enjoy - last update 4/9/25]

Bobby Versus Buddie by songbvrd (ao3) Mature 10,391 Eddie huffed out a breath. “I’m having a crisis.” And Bobby, he wasn’t proud of it, but the word ‘finally’ was flashing in front of his eyes in giant, neon yellow letters, because surely, surely this meant that he’d figured it out. Finally, at long last, Eddie was having the crisis they’d all been waiting for since he’d started a thousand emergencies earlier. Bobby waited, silent and hopeful, relieved that they’d finally gotten there. “I think I’m homophobic.” Bobby blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” OR - Five times Bobby tried to gently hold Buddie's hands and tell them they were in love, and one time they got the picture.

a cute 5+1 with bobby being done with eddie and buck. got to love the bobby and buck dynamic too.

What’s Your Love Language? by songbvrd (ao3) 18 332 “Which do you think makes you feel most loved?” Eddie thought for a long moment. Too long, maybe. Then he shrugged, “Honestly, Buck? I have no idea.” Buck’s brows pinched up. “What do you mean? When have you felt the most loved?” “Don’t make a big thing of this, Buck. Promise?” Buck made a show of crossing his heart, brows still raised curiously. “I’m not sure I’ve ever… really felt loved in a relationship? I’m not convinced that I know what makes me feel loved…” OR - After finding out that Eddie doesn't know what his love language is, Buck sets about finding out for him. He begins a five week experiment, one for each love language, to figure out which will make Eddie feel the most loved.

another great fluffy fic with some slight emotional infidelity. set in season 7 and buck decides he needs to learn how to best love eddie. spoiler: he was already doing just fine.

50 Cheeky Texts by songbvrd (ao3) 20.999 Bucklecup: I really like your moustache. it’s very girthy. really solid. Eddito: girthy????????????? Eddito: did you just text me at 7pm on a wednesday evening to tell me my moustache is GIRTHY???? Bucklecup: honestly, i’m kinda surprised you haven’t blocked me yet, eds OR - Buck gets drunk-dared to send Eddie one cheeky text every day for 50 days. Eddie loses his mind. TW for the cringiest pickup lines in existence.

awwww. tho i should warn you there is some emotional infidelity going on here but it wasn't bad enough to turn me off of the fic but i thought i'd warn yall. anyways absolutely beautiful fic that made me laugh. also love the author. unintentionally bookmarked this back to back with their prev on this list haha.

know it's for the better by hyruling for fallingthorns (ao3) Explicit 24 931 “I love you, you know.” Buck smiles, and it’s Eddie’s favorite - the one that seems to light him up from within, beautiful and too bright to look at directly for long. “Of course I know that, Eddie,” Buck replies, easy as breathing, but Eddie shakes his head. --- Or: Eddie confesses. Buck doesn't love him back, but it doesn't matter. He'll keep telling him anyway.

oblivious buck and a pining eddie. eddie confesses and buck kind of shuts down mentally over it but eddie just keeps loving him. set in season 7.

Hen Wilson's Four Part Guide To Making Your Stupid Friends Date by songbvrd (ao3) 25 010 “Okay, I know we kind of all had an unspoken rule not to talk about it, but…” “Buck and Eddie are being weird as hell?” Chim asked, sucking in a breath like he'd been holding back from letting the same thought out for far too long. “Yes!” Hen hissed, relieved that she wasn't the only to see the weirdness in the room. “Now, look, they're my friends and so obviously I want them to be happy, but it's also just throwing the team vibe way off.” Bobby took a long, tired breath. “Okay. So what did you have in mind?” Several things, as it turned out. Between them, they managed to come up with the very vague outline of a plan. Or a few plans, really, depending on how many failed. OR - When Buck and Eddie aren't speaking, Hen decides to take matters into her own hands.

i feel like i should be a little bit more ashamed at putting so many fics by songbvrd on this list but... they're sooo good. always coming in clutch for some interesting plot in a medium length fic. this one is no exception to that trend - loved hen in this one and i love miscommunication and outsider POV.

Eddie vs Romance by allyasavedtheday (restricted) (ao3) 27 889 “You wanna talk about it?” Buck asks after a beat. He doesn’t drink his beer. Eddie doesn’t either. It’s a crutch, mostly. A pretence, so that if the conversation gets too deep, too fast they can blame it on the alcohol. Eddie appreciates it. As he thinks about Buck’s question he wonders where to start. He’s told Buck some of it, the important parts, but not- not what compelled him to do any of it in the first place. In the end, he can only think of one thing. Swallowing around the lump clogging his throat, he says, “I don’t think I know how to be in love anymore.” - “I think Eddie’s in love with me.” She gapes at him, mouth working for a response that doesn’t come until Chimney beats her to it. “Eddie’s what?” Maddie claps her mouth shut, stepping aside to let Buck through. Chimney’s on the floor in the living room with Jee playing with her tea set. “You’re not involved in this conversation,” Buck says, pointing at him. “It’s your fault in the first place for even putting the idea in my head.” Maddie apparently finally finds her voice, appearing at Buck’s side and looking between them. “I’m sorry, what? How did Chim put the idea in your head?” “Him and Hen!” Buck exclaims, waving a hand. “They told me I should pay attention to how much Eddie wants to be around me.” “And you took that to mean he’s in love with you?” Chimney asks incredulously. * In which Buck has a clipboard and a list and is about to romance the hell out of Eddie Diaz.

a short series of two fics that explore eddie realizing he is in love with buck, buck realizing eddie is in love with him and then them getting together. really cute and an amazing take on eddie's relationship to shannon.

I’m Bringing You With Me by CourtepointeClementine, sunlight (ao3) 30 997 Eddie props his chin up on his hand to stare at Buck in the dark. The mattress makes an ungodly squeaking noise from even this small movement. Maybe sneaking out wouldn’t actually be that easy. Eddie reaches across him and squeezes Buck’s shoulder. Buck looks over at him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Eddie says. “I took the couch,” Buck blurts out. Eddie’s hand stills where it was still gently squeezing Buck’s shoulder. “What?” “Ugh.” He dislodges Eddie’s hand and pulls the duvet up over his own face. “Why?” Buck uses the duvet cover to absorb the lone tear that is trickling down to his ear. “It looked lonely. On the curb.” On Eddie’s last night in LA, Buck does something a little crazy. While Eddie’s in El Paso, he does something a little crazy. It all comes back to the couch in the end.

eddie moves to el paso and buck does not handle it well. like at all. lots of emotional hurt for buck and of course a happy ending.

it was more than a moment (it was the rest of our lives) by smilingbuckley (restricted) (ao3) Mature 36 161 At work, Eddie gets the shocking news that his parents are suing him for custody of Christopher. His lawyer, falsely assuming Buck and Eddie are a couple, suggests they get married to give Eddie a stronger case. Buck gladly agrees. -- “So,” Buck speaks up when the waiter is gone. He stretches his arms above his head, making the shirt under his jacket ride up and expose a bit of his skin. Eddie can see the faint lines of a tattoo before Buck shifts and his shirt falls down again. “Are we getting married?” Eddie has to do a double take, “Excuse me, what?” “Well, Mrs. Reese said that it would be useful,” Buck says, like it’s not a big deal at all. Like marriage isn’t an official commitment, usually reserved for people in love that plan on being together for the rest of their lives. “I… Buck, it’s… good that you’re, you know, my fake boyfriend or whatever, but I can’t let you marry me for this.” “Why not?” Buck asks, “If it helps you get Christopher back.”

fake marriage turned real marriage fic. also fuck helena and ramon all my homies hate helena and ramon. eddies parents fuck up and try to take chris permanently and eddie and buck get married over it. season 8.

something touched me (like a knife-blade) by kithmet (ao3) Explicit 42,295 “I feel fucking explosive, Buck. Like I’m about to go off at any second. I don’t want you caught in my mess.” His eyes sting. At the very least, Buck contains the sound of it in his voice. “Eddie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he replies, “but I already am.” Eddie self-implodes. Christopher, seeking refuge, flees to Buck—whose priorities amount to, in varying order: take in the kid, get Eddie to talk to him, and keep the three of them afloat in the process. (Oh, and Tommy’s there too. He thinks.)

this was a great fic and an interesting take on chris staying with buck and eddie getting his shit together.

everything (nothing) has changed by bizarrestars (restricted) (ao3) Explicit 48 550 After Eddie gets shot, Buck confesses his love. From there, things get a little out of hand. *** Buck breathes for a moment, then sets his shoulders. "Eddie, there's something I have to tell you." "Do you?" Eddie asks flatly, still alarmed and doing his best to hide it. "I would've never guessed." Buck swallows. "Eddie, I love you." "Are you softening the blow, or buttering me up? Because, I've got to tell you, I'm still very worried regardless," Eddie tells him. "No, you don't understand. I love you. I'm currently in love with you," Buck says as evenly as possible, and even then, his voice wobbles precariously there for a moment. He exhales. "You don't have to worry about it, though, because I've processed it and decided to—to find relief in telling you before moving on and moving forward." Eddie stares at him. No response at all. Well, at least he's not freaking out.

the note left in my bookmark: "couldn't even play my video games while listening to this smh. took too much of my attention. <3"

i tend to download fics and listen to them through a epub reader and play video games but i could not keep from pausing to keep reading manually i needed to know what was next so bad. buck and eddie being stubborn and stupid and includes some of my favorite pining tropes. i love when one of them is convinced the other cannot love them so they try to fall out of love. amazing. also jealous eddie ftw.

Juxtaposition by ProstheticLoVe (ao3) Teen+ 74 552 “What kind of partner do you want?” Buck looks him straight in the eye and with no hesitation says, “One who has my back. Someone who loves me for me. All the chaos and the weirdness included. Someone who I love. Even if I have to wait for them to catch up.” He says it with such confidence, Eddie feels like his answer was lacking. Or the one where Eddie’s too busy stuck on the idea of a heteronormative family that he misses who is right in front of him and has been all along. Don’t worry, Buck’s trying to tell him.

eddie being in love with buck but being so deeply repressed is one of my fave tropes and it is pulled off excellently here.

Away From Us by Marchling (restricted) (ao3) Mature 76 165 They turned the last corner they needed to get to Buck’s loft and the floor was gone. “Firefighters evacuate. The building is collapsing.” Eddie stared incomprehensibly to the gaping drop that should have been Buck’s hall. His heart was pounding, not because he had worked so hard to get here… Because he was terrified. “Buck!” Eddie screamed as loud as he could to be heard over the flames. His hands scrambled over the walls, testing them, trying to see if he could use a ledge or a doorknob or something to get to Buck’s door. There was no answer but Eddie screamed again, “Buck! Are you here?” --- After the lawsuit Buck is doing his absolute best to try to win back his family but nothing is working and the hope is starting to hurt. He makes the the decision to resign from the 118 via letter and leave LA to start something new in Arizona. And that would've been fine except a fire burns down his entire apartment building that morning and the letter never makes it to Bobby. When Buck isn't found amongst the survivors his loved ones have to accept that he died in the fire. A presumed dead story about forgiveness, grief, second chances and falling in love.

aaahhhh presumed dead my beloved. buck is presumed dead in a fire when he decides to run after the lawsuit. eddie and the rest of the 118 have to grapple with the death of buck. loved bobby in this one and it broke me to see his grief over losing another kid.

there is no road by littleghost (ao3) Explicit 99 788 Eddie listens to the voicemail later. Buck sounds like he’s at a grocery store, absentmindedly talking into the phone. “Oh, I guess you’re with your sisters. Sorry to miss you. I just wanted to tell you about this call we had last night, but I gotta hear your reactions, so, later. Okay, uh, I guess I’ll just call back. Or text.” It ends abruptly, without a goodbye. Eddie replays it a second time, closes his eyes as he sits in the truck. For a moment, he can pretend Buck is sitting in the passenger seat next to him. For a moment, Eddie is back in Los Angeles and his best friend is dragging him through the grocery store. The voicemail ends, Eddie opens his eyes, and the fantasy breaks. Eddie is still in El Paso, parked in front of the house he’s renting, and there’s no one in the passenger seat with him.

omgggg. so im fairly sure the title is from that song from the bolt movie so points off the bat for that decision i have it stuck in my head now. a good fix it fic for season 8 where buck and eddie keep communicating through voicemails as they intentionally and unintentionally miss each others calls. great fic that has calls in it and a lot of substance. loved it.

originally posted 4/7/25

#911 abc #911 show #buddie #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #evan buckey x eddie diaz #evan buckley/eddie diaz #eddie diaz #fic rec #buck buckley #buddie fic rec #9 1 1 on abc #9 1 1 buddie

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thedevilsoftruth · 20 days ago

Text

Drowned In Lavender

Thunderbolts/senator B. Barnes x Afab! (pregnant wife) reader

Summary: Bucky and Sam accidentally run into eachother in Washington. They make a plan to fly back to Brooklyn a few days earlier than Bucky's scheduled return time to surprise you! However, the surprise kind of spoils when you spot them first, and greet them in a very unexpected way.

Genre: 18+ [ MDNI!! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet. ]erotica, romance, sensual, comedy.

Smut tags/warnings: (6k+ words of pure filth.) Reader is 24 weeks pregnant, Sam being hilarious, Massage gone wrong, mentions of guns, Bucky being an amazing fucking husband, reader is VERY horny and needy, reader wears lingerie, beard kink/beard wetting, pussy eating, face sitting, breast play, vaginal fingering, implied squirting. NOT beta read.

Song recommended: Where Life Begins by Madonna.

An: the last congressman Barnes erotica I do before Thunderbolts releases. Also Im terribly sick rn so I apologize if this seems a bit weird. ENJOY!!

[ my marvel request box is back open. Please check out my pinned post for my request rules. ]

"Dude shut up! "

" Is the coast clear, Mr. Barnes? "

Bucky and Sam tiptoed inside the house, Sam closing the door behind them as he whispered like he was in a stealthy hitman game. In reality, all it was was the two men wanting to surprise you with Bucky's return back home. The plan was for Sam to stay with the both of you during the holidays as extra support for you during your pregnancy, however, from all you knew, they weren't going to be back until the end of the week. It was Friday.

The lights in the house were off. It was not what the two men were expecting. In fact, they were kind of hoping you'd be up. It was only 8 pm, after all. Perhaps you went to bed early because you were hurting?

Sam was wandering the kitchen and living room; he had been in your house enough times to know the whole layout of the place. Bucky set his crossbody bag on the marble island in the kitchen with a sigh. He tucked his phone into his back pocket of his jeans.

" I'm gonna go look upstairs. " He told Sam, nodding towards the stairs.

" Can I go up with you? " He asked with a smile. Bucky nearly laughed.

" No. "

Sam persisted.

" Well I just thought, you know, if we were supposed to be surprising her--"

" Just stay down here. " Bucky cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sam nodded understandingly and shrugged.

" Yeah--no, of course. I get it. Husband-wife things. Totally cool. '' Sam sniffed, shaking his hand and clapping his hands together, his gaze averting from Bucky's. Bucky's face contorted in a cringe, and he mumbled something under his breath as he started making his way up stairs.

He made sure that his footsteps were light as he walked up the stairs as to make as little noise as possible and to not make the floorboard creak. His heart was racing with anticipation as he made it to the top of the staircase. He almost had to restrain himself from running up to your bedroom door.

However, when he finally made it to the top of the stairs, all of his plans to surprise you crumbled to dust when he saw you standing in the doorway if your bedroom door. Pointing a handgun right at him. You squinted your eyes at him, trying to make him out through the darkness. He almost laughed. Again.

" Honey, " he called out from the top of the stairs, his smooth, sweet-and-deep-like-honey voice filling your ears with the familiarity of a favorite song.

" It's just me. " He said, his footsteps soft as he approached you. The moment you realized it was him, you wasted no time to throw the little gun down and run into his open arms. Like everytime, he caught you perfectly and gave you that rich laugh you loved so much. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, smoothing out your hair with his flesh hand.

" It seems I've taught you well. " He mumbled against your hair. You grumbled and playfully smacked his chest.

" Don't play games like that with me anymore. You scared the shit out of me. " You told him, looking up at him with a tiny smile. Your hand flattened on his chest, near his dog tags. " I thought you were an evil guy who broke in looking for you. "

A light laugh left his mouth, and he ran his exposed vibranium hand up your back.

" Nah. Its just me and uh.. " he looked over his shoulder. You followed his gaze. " That guy. "

Both of your eyes fell on a certain Sam Wilson standing at the top of the staircase. The three of you stood there silently for what felt like an eternity.

" It's good to see you Mrs. Barnes. " Sam said, his usual calm smile spread across his face. " Surprise? "

You blinked. Bucky coughed. You looked between your husband and his best friend back and forth many times, confused.

" Wait--why is he here? " You inquired, looking up at Bucky with curled eyebrows. A mutual feeling of awkwardness filled all of you, and the silence that came with it was so utterly terrible that you started feeling too exposed and hid into Bucky's arms further. After all, you were wearing one of your favorite lingerie sets under the purple robe tied around your body.

Bucky looked at Sam. Sam looked at Bucky. He was not going to speak up; he didn't have the right words to speak. So Bucky opened his mouth after thinking about it, then spoke.

" We were both in D.C, obviously. He had some business to take care of at the White House, and I was at Capitol Hill--as you know, for some very important business. " Bucky began, looking down at you, nodding his head along at he spoke. You were gripping his red wine tie and looking down at your feet, trying to ignore the warm feeling you had been getting in your lowe abdomen all day. Now that he was home, it was only worse.

" We ran into eachother a couple times while up there, and decided that since the holidays were coming up, we'd surprise you with an early visit and stay around for the next few months until you're due. " Sam took over the conversation, explaining to you the details--though you found it very hard to pay attention to him with your mind so fogged up. Bucky's hand lulled up and down your back, making goosebumps rise up your skin.

" And also all of the work that I need to do for the rest of the month will be done from home. " Bucky told you, his hand stilling somewhere on your lower back. It did not take long for him to notice the way you were avoiding his gaze.

" You okay, honey? " He asked you, his voice low like he was asking you directly and didn't want Sam in the conversation. You met his gaze finally and let go of his tie.

" Yeah, I'll be okay. " You responded, your face heating up. You had no idea where this odd feeling in your abdomen was coming from. Just a moment ago you were pointing a gun at him because you thought he was a random dude who broke into your house. Now you were all curled into his body and gripping onto him like a cat to a cat tree.

Bucky hummed and kissed the top of your head again.

" Well now that our plans have been spoiled, what are we gonna do? " Sam asked from afar, fiddling with his hands like he had nothing else to do. Your mind was already going to work, searching for many ways you could respond. Now, you didn't want to be selfish, but your husband had just came back home to you after a long two and a half weeks, and all you wanted was some alone time with him. The mere fact that Sam was even there only fueled that need to be alone with Bucky.

You looked up at Bucky for help, your mind caught in a cross roads. You tapped your fingers against his shoulder for his attention. He immediately took the message as you needing to tell him something important, and he ducked his head down so you could whisper in his ear. Your stomach churned in excitement, and you cupped your hand around the shell of his ear for extra security.

" I need you in the bedroom. " You told him. It was all you needed to say, really, but you weren't even sure if it was entirely what you wanted. Bucky's vibranium hand tightened around it's spot on your waist, and he leaned back so he could whisper his response in your ear.

" Why? What's wrong? "

" I don't know I'm just... Aching and sore--but at the same time you're back home and that does something to me... " You told him quickly, looking over his shoulder to see Sam facing the complete opposite direction of you two.

" Just please... meet me in the bedroom? " You begged him, looking up at him with big eyes. He pulled back a little so you would be face-to-face with him.

" Are you sure? " He asked, his eyebrows curved in worry. You gripped the sleeve of his suit jack and tugged on it.

" Yes I'm sure! " You whisper-yelled into his ear, your teeth gritted.

Sam stood in the background silently, blinking, utterly confused by the whole scenario. He checked his watch for the time, then looked away from the whispering couple and scratched his ear. Obviously he wasn't meant to be listening in on the conversation, but they weren't exactly good at whispering.

Bucky looked at Sam then back at you.

" Okay. Go inside, and I'll be there in just a moment. " He leaned down to peck your lips. " I love you. " You smiled warmly at the kiss and the ' I love you. ' You felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you pursed your lips to hide the smile creeping on your face and tilted your head down.

" I love you too. " You responded quietly before picking up the tail of your dragging, opening robe and ran towards your bedroom. In an instant, the door was slamming shut and you were gone.

And God help him, Sam was trying so hard to be respectful. He was looking at his watch again, like he was actually doing something on it instead of eavesdropping on his closest friends.

" Sam. " Bucky called out for him, almost making him jump. Sam fake coughed and looked up at him, sweating in his suit. Bucky's voice was stern and knowing. Sam gulped hard.

" You should go to the guest room downstairs." Bucky told him, blinking slowly and pointing his index finger downwards as he spoke those last words. Sam couldn't fight the smile that was threatening to spread across his face.

" Alright. I'll do that. " He said, his lips twitching. " But while you two are at it, you might want to spin her that Marvin Gaye vinyl I got you last Christmas. And if you need lube, just hit me up--"

" Ooh, duuude that's weird. We're not gonna have sex with guests over. " Bucky groaned, his face scrunching up in disgust. "Now get the hell out of here before I push you down the damn staircase. " Bucky threatened, his cheeks heated with embarrassment from his friends comment. Sam was cackling at his reaction, clapping his hands together as he turned his heel for the staircase. Bucky inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and mentally preparing himself for what was going to happen the moment he opened the bedroom door.

" Lord help me," he muttered under his breath, curling his fingers into fists by his sides as he walked into the room.

The door opened and shut with a soft click. You were already laying in bed, propping yourself up by your hands, waiting for him. Bucky gave you a soft smile as he took off his suit jacket and placed it down on the blue bean bag next to the door--which the mere sight of gave you, a pregnant woman, a heart attack.

" You okay, honey? " He asked you as he stepped out of his dress shoes. You huffed.

" You ask me that again, and I swear to Odin, James, I will rip your fucking head off and feed it to Alpine. " You warned him in a very flat, very stern voice that made your point clear quickly. Bucky stopped midway through getting undressed, his finger stilling on the top button of his vest when you started speaking. Nothing scared Bucky, but you did whenever you were mad.... and pregnant, apparently.

" Yes ma'am. " Was all he said, along with a fat gulp. He faced you and shimmied out of the black vest. The both of you locked eyes, and that warm feeling inside you intensified. The way his muscles rippled under his white button down as he moved? Basically pornography to your brain.

And the second he was out of the vest, he was on your shared bed and sitting on the edge of it. He sat in front of you with his legs crossed.

" You said you were aching and sore? " He asked, scooting closer to you, grabbing both of your calf's and smoothing his hands over them.

" Yeah. " you sighed, unsure of how to exactly explain to him that you were horny. It was just odd to you because most mom's in your parenting/birthing classes had shared that they found it hard to have a high libido and get wet while pregnant. But here you were, over-sensitive and needy like you were in heat.

And who knows? Maybe your husband already knew what you needed. He was pretty good at reading you, and often told you that you were an open book. Besides, you membered reading online and hearing from the dad's at your birthing classes that pregnancy was a pretty big turn on for them. Maybe Bucky was just as turned on as you were; which got you thinking about the night you started trying for your baby and how crazy and wild he got with you. Just thinking about it was enough to--

Oh no.

You were getting wet again.

" Baby?" Bucky's voice broke you out of the sex-dazed trance you were in. You blinked twice than looked back up at him.

" Yes? " You responded.

" Where are you sore? " He asked you, his sweet voice laced with worry, his lips curled into a frown while he looked at you with his head tilted.

You grumbled.

My pussy, you dumb fuck. You almost wanted to tell him.

" I don't know, " You paused to think. " Everywhere? " Bucky chuckled.

" Baby, that doesn't help." He said. His hands drifted down to the backs of your feet. You shivered.

" Is it your feet? Your back? " He asked, trying to pin point the cause of your issues.

" I mean.. I guess it's my feet. " You mumbled, averting your gaze from his shyly. Bucky made a low sound at that.

" Baby," his eyes raked up your body sympathetically. " Were you on your feet all day? "

His hands ran down your calves, trying to ease any tension in your muscles. The little hairs on your body stood on end with goosebumps as he touched you. You wanted to speak, but you couldn't. So you nodded. He frowned.

" Honey... You know standing all day can put tension on your back and feet. " He told you, his tone now low and serious instead of light and sweet like before. You gulped hard, excitement running through your body.

" I know, I just--I knew you'd be back soon and I didn't want the house to be a mess. " You told him with a pout. Bucky's hummed and leaned down to kiss your calf.

" Well, " he muttered, looking around like he was trying to figure out what to do. " Why don't you lay back and let me relieve you, yeah? "

He smiled at you, kind and charming. You looked back at him and returned the smile as he propped your legs onto his lap.

The moment you felt the cool metal of his vibranium hand and the warm heat of his flesh hand on your skin, you immediately melted. Usually, the temperature differences would make you flinch, but you had been with him long enough that you were used to it.

He ran his thumbs up the arch of your foot, in a straight line, his other fingers dragging along the back of your foot. You shivered and audibly groaned. He smiled.

" My poor baby," he purred. " all swollen and sore. " He thumbed at the ball of your foot, his eyes almost never leaving yours.

" S'okay though. Gonna take it all away. " He mumbled, kissing your knee. You shivered, the tiny wet spot on your panties under your robe becoming unmistakable at that point. It was just the way he was speaking to you. The words he chose along with the tone he chose; it was like he wanted you to squirm in your seat.

And you were.

" Feels good. " You rasped, the back of your hand splaying on your forehead as he slowly kneaded his thumbs into your skin. He stayed like that for a moment, creating different patterns and switching his hand placement frequently until he moved his attention to your other foot, which was arguably worse.

Bucky's mind wandered as he massaged you, his eyes falling down on your stomach as his worked his hands against you. You had gotten bigger since the last time he saw you. You were now on your 24th week, and still as beautiful as ever. In his mind, he started to map out exactly how your baby shower would go, while all you were thinking about was how much you needed your husband.... Mentally and physically.

His thumbs lowered to a certain pressure point on your foot, and your body almost jolted and you moaned softly at the contact. He kept his fingers there, rubbing rough circles into you tight muscles. He looked up and you caught his gaze.

" Right there? "He asked. You hummed, your cheeks heating up at at the warmth in his voice.

" Yeah, " you sighed. He started rubbing harder, his strokes long and persistent. " Oh god, James." You sighed into his touch, letting yourself melt like butter. He smiled proudly.

" I'm glad you feel good. " He said, continuing to work out your sore muscles. " Your pleasure is my top priority. " He told you, all with another kiss to your skin.

That was your breaking point. You needed him to fuck you.

"Baby," you whimpered, your fingers reaching out to tug on his wrist. He knew that voice like the back of his hand.

" Yes? " He looked up at you, rising his head slowly.You bite your lip, your heart pounding. His hands stilled on your ankles.

At a very eased and deliberate pace, your fingers traced up your stomach until they fell down to the knot of the belt that was keeping your robe closed shut around you. You undid the knot quickly, almost like you couldn't bare the thought of wasting another minute with it off. Once the robe fell open, so did your sweet husbands mouth.

You laid there underneath him, now in nothing but a cute little lingerie set that punched the air out of his lungs. It was a see-through babydoll top that was a lavender color and was paired with matching laced panties. The top was cut low, thin and floral laced, and the straps were in frills. The actual cup size was a bit too small for you, and your full breasts were spilling out of it. It was safe to say that it fit you better when you weren't pregnant, but you weren't complaining and neither was he. The opened slit straight down the under bust to the end of the top drove Bucky absolutely Insane. His mouth was open like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Oh. Baby," he groaned, running a hand down your baby bump, which had only grown since the last time he saw you. He lifted you leg and gave your ankle a soft peck before he crawled up your body, settling between your thighs. "Is this why you wanted to come in the bedroom?" He inquired, looking you up and down hungrily, drinking in your appearance like it was the last time he'd see you.

You couldn't do anything but nod. His breath hitched.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner? You know I'd drop everything if you would have told me." He asked, running his hands down your thighs smoothly. You bit your finger.

" 'm sorry." You apologized, your face heating up as he touched you. He clicked his tongue and crawled up your body, bracing his arms at the sides of your head.

"Don't say that, honey." He told you, his eyebrows curling upward worriedly. He leaned in and pecked your lips. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

His tone was reassuring and he ran his hand over your hip, squeezing it gently. Your hand snaked up his vibranium forearm, and curled around the white sleeve of his button down. Bucky dipped his head down to your neck and pressed a hot, wet kiss there, his flesh hand drawing circles over the waistband of your panties.

"I left you too long, hm?" He purred into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. Shivers went down your spine and you uselessly nodded. He lifted one of your legs and spread it wider around his waist, making your hips stretch out in a way that made you moan.

" Sweet girl," he mumbled, planting wet, sloppy kisses all over your collarbone. "You gonna be good and let me touch you? Yeah?" He inquired, looking up at you through his brows. You reacted so quickly that it shocked the both of you.

" Yes--yes--please, oh god. Yes." You gasped, nodding your head frantically and grabbing him everywhere like he was threatening to leave you. He chuckled and sat up a bit so he wasn't directly putting pressure on your belly.

"Lift up for a bit." He told you, momentarily pulling away from you so he could collect a few pillows from the bed. Since you both found out about your pregnancy, a significant amount of pillows had been added to your collection, which Bucky found funny. You sat up, allowing him to fix the pillows underneath you and add more onto it to help support your back.

"There you go." He grunted, stealing a quick peck of your lips before he settled back between your legs.

"Comfy?" He asked. You hummed in response and nodded. He shifted on top of you, placing one arm by your head as he hovered above you. You gulped, the anticipation of what he was going to do to you sparkling through your veins.

Your bottom lip sunk between your teeth as you looked up at him. A cold, metal hand came up to cup your warm cheek, and gently removed your lip from your mouth. Bucky ran the pad of his thumb across your wet bottom lip, caressing your skin lightly before he leaned down to kiss you.

You almost immediately moaned into his mouth the second it was on you. His left hand slipped down your cheek and onto your stomach, his touch feather-light as he rubbed your exposed skin gently.

"Fuck, I missed you." He groaned, his metal hand trailing up your body until it reached your breast. A pitched moan left your mouth when he cupped your breast into his hand, massaging your flesh through the very thin fabric of your lingerie. He could already feel your nipple hardening, the tiny bud nearly peaking out of the top of the lace.

Bucky's lips left yours with a little noise, and he leaned back a bit to get a good look at you; disheveled, messy, panting, the lace wrapped around you doing nothing to hide the beautiful body that lay underneath it.

"Loook at you." He chuckled, his voice gruff and rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. Your top was pulled downward on your left breast, threatening to spill out, but that was okay. He hooked his finger into the lace and tugged the lace down by the middle, letting both of your breasts spring free with a little bounce.

"So beautiful," he praised, running his palms down the curve of your breasts. "These perfect little things..." He went on, taking them into his large hands, cupping them by your under boobs, purposefully avoiding your nipple. "Feel so heavy in my hands now." He gave them a few gropes before he leaned down and let his hands fall by your sides, keeping himself steady above you.

Bucky's lips hovered above the peak of your breast, kissing your skin gently, his lips tip-toeing around your areola. His beard lightly scratched your skin as he moved his lips against you.

Your body was heaving up and down with his touches greedily, wanting more and more of his love, arching into him, begging for more. His lips dragged across your under boob, to the little spot on your torso where the skin of your breasts met the skin of your stomach. He dragged the tip of his tongue around your areola, the wetness,warmth and pressure of it making your nipple immediately rise up and harden. He repeated this a couple times before he finally wrapped his lips around your tiny bud and began suckling gently.

You nearly scrum and your hands shot to his head, tugging on his hair. Bucky shook his head and hummed In disapproval.

"Gotta stay quiet, babydoll." He told you, looking at you through his lashes. He released your tit with a little wet pop, then gave the whole thing a little grasp.

"I told Sam that we wouldn't be having sex, so shh." He whispered, already moving on to your other breast with a sly grin.

"Think this one wants my attention too?" He said smugly, keeping his vibranium hand on your left breast while his lips were already toying with your right one. For a moment, you mind was flogging with heat and your intense need for your husband, but through the midst of the fog, that last sentence ran through your mind curiously.

"Wait why would you tell him that?" You asked, your eyebrows furrowing. He looked up at you with a confused expression.

"He made a joke about us having sex and I told him he was gross and that we wouldn't do it with him here..." He responded honestly before going back to work, licking at your nipple like it was his only purpose. The moan you made almost immediately shut your mouth.

"Aged nicely, huh?" He joked, later on laughing at his own joke.

"Now c'mere, baby." He said with a grunt, lifting your legs up by the backs of your heavy thighs. "Let me get a nice taste of your beautiful little pussy, yeah?"

The words went straight to your cunt, making you ache for him even more. You made a little noise as you nodded eagerly, watching as your husband slowly lowered his body down yours.

Large, strong hands spread your thighs apart, and Bucky dipped his face between them, eyeing at the little wet spot on your panties.

"Oh baby," he moaned. "So wet," his flesh fingers ran down your slit, making you shiver. "All that just from some harmless touching." His fingers pressed against your center, and you could feel the coldness of the wet, think lace up against your warm slit.

"Feel that?" He moved his two middle fingers side to side on your clothed folds, taking your breath away.

"Yeah," you gasped when you felt his middle finger dip into your entrance, entering you kind of far for being behind the barrier of your panties. You were not expecting things to feel this good. You thought everything was going to feel different with being pregnant. In a way, it did. Primarily because you were more sensitive to his touch than usual, but it didn't feel a bad kind of different.

Bucky lowered his head down onto you more, and kissed your throbbing clit through your panties. You gasped, your fingers threading through his long, thick hair while he mouthed at you.

"This little thin thing," he scoffed, like your underwear personally offended him. "Don't do shit to hide this little pussy." With that, Bucky pulled the elastic band of your panties around your pelvic bone, and let it tap against your skin with a loud snap. Then he gave up and pulled the thing to the side, giving your now exposed pussy a wet kiss before he sat back up.

"Lift up, pretty girl." He instructed, waiting for you to lift up your hips. When you did so, his hands were immediately on you and tearing the useless garment off your body. Once it was off you, he was on you, running his hands up your thighs, eyeing the little mess between your thighs.

"Jesus fuck," he whispered, his eyes running down your wetness. You felt your face heating up In embarrassment, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed. You tried to snap your thighs shut when his fingers drifted down your slit, but he just pushed them back open.

"Nuh-uh, baby. Still haven't tasted you yet." He scolded, dipping his head back between your already shaking thighs. The authority in his voice just made you crave him even more.

And god, help you, because the way you moaned when he licked that first stripe up your pussy, was loud enough for anyone within a 500 mile radius of you hear you. And god, help you, with the way his tongue was flicking up and down your aching clit so soft and gently like he was afraid of breaking you.

Your taste flooded his mouth like a favorite treat, making him moan desperately against your mound as his tongue swirled around your folds. Bucky pulled his head back a bit and ran two thick metal fingers down your dripping cunt by the back of his hand like he was petting you. His knuckles dragged across your flesh, the cold band of his wedding ring on his ring finger coming in contact with your pussy perfectly, reminding you of the life you shared together.

His fingers dipped into your entrance, finally, and you welcomed him in--not so easily at first--but welcomed him in regardless. You let out a little displeased moan at the stretch of his fingers, and his hand immediately stilled.

"Baby?" He asked, looking at you wordily. "Are you okay? What's your color?"

You struggled for a moment. Thee muscles in your pussy involuntarily contracting against his fingers, like your body knew that it wanted to be ready for him.

"Yellow? I don't know." You told him, your brows twitching in frustration. Your voice was broken up, like you were about to cry. Buck was immediately in action to relieve you.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay." He told you, kissing your inner thigh, and dragging his fingers against your walls just about an inch before stilling. "Just let me love you, okay?" He kissed the spot on your inner thigh that connected your pelvis to your thigh. "It might feel a bit weird, but thats okay because your body is changing. Just let me make you feel good."

You nodded your head understandingly, your eyes watery as he slowly moved his fingers into you. You winced again, but he made up for it with a kiss to your clit. He gently nipped at it as he slowly, very very slowly, dragging his fingers in and out of your cunt.

It had been months upon months since he last made love to you like this. He was always busy with Congress--senator stuff, always out of state, and never really had enough time to put on the side for you for intimate moments like this. Hell, he even had some work that he had to take care of the next day downtown super late into the afternoon. But that was fine. He didn't need to worry about it as long as he was between your thighs.

After a while, you started to opened up to him as he sunk deeper, and when he did, your moans grew louder. His fingers curled against a soft, almost squishy spot inside you that sent you flying. Your hands shot into his hair, curling your fingers into fists, your hips bucking against his face as he repeatedly hit that same spot.

"James--oh, baby--oh, fuck!" You moaned, your head flying back and your back arching. Bucky gave you a cocky grin, the sound of his name on your lips, all with that cute little moan running straight to his cock. But he knew he couldn't have his fill yet. Your pleasure always came before his, no matter how long it took for you to cum, and especially no matter if he didn't get to cum either.

Your already sore hips trembled against his face, your knees going weak as you desperately started grinding against his face, seeking more and more friction.

"Right there, babydoll?" He asked, his voice gruff and low, his finger curling and pushing in and out of that special spot repeatedly, drawing out long, needy moans out of you.

"Yes, fuck! Don't stop, baby. Ooh." You begged through broken up cries. He grinned and wrapped his lips around your twitching clit, sucking on it harshly and making you scream. Usually, he would want you to scream like that and go crazy, but at the moment, you both had company. His best friend kind of company.

"Shh, baby." He hushed. "what'd I tell you?" He questioned, stilling his fingers and pulling back from your core just a bit. You whined at the loss of contact, and he gave your wet pussy a little smack as a warning. You yelped, your eyes opening back up.

"Told 'm to be quiet." You responded, your breath shaky and your words slurred.

"Good fuckin girl." He growled through gritted teeth, putting his mouth back on you--rougher and messier than last time. It did not take long for his finger to find that special spot again. His fingers worked with his mouth In perfect harmony, his tongue flattening against your folds while he shook his head.

You had to muffle your moans by biting the heel of your hand, your thighs trembling around your husband's head out of control, your hips jerking.

God damn, everything felt like heaven. The little scrape and drag of his beard against your flesh as he ate you out only added to the sensations even more. But that was fine, because you preferred him with a fuller beard.

Your mind was so hazy and foggy as he absolutely devoured you, and for a moment, you felt like you wouldn't be able to speak anything until--

"You're growing your beard out." You commented. He hummed against your cunt, not hearing you the first time with the way your thick thighs were squishing his head and blocking his ears.

"Hmm? What was that, babydoll?" He asked, his heavy lidded blue eyes looking up to meet your gaze. You were so fucked-out that you almost forgot that you had even said anything.

"You're--fuck, mm... Growing your.. beard out." You repeated, this time between heavy moans. He grinned.

"Oh yeah? I thought you'd like it." He mumbled against your clit, punctuating his words with little suckles. He looked up at you again, grinning, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes deepening.

"You wanna come sit up on my face and wet it?" He asked you, nuzzling his lips over your clit with a slight shake of his head. You gasped at his words, an electric shock of lust running straight to your core.

"Wha--"

But it was too late. He was already pulling away from you and sitting down on the bed next to you.

"James--"

"Come on, pretty girl." He said, his tone condescending and almost mocking. "You brought this upon yourself. Now get on." He persisted, laying down on his back, adjusting himself near the headboard. You stammered, shocked, your mind going through so many different emotions.

"But i--"

He cut you off. Again.

"If this is anything about your weight, I don't fucking care. I tell you that everytime." He told you sternly with knitted brows. "Now come sit on my face, baby. Wanna feel your weight all on me."

His strong hands went to your hips, lifting you up gently. You wanted to protest, but your body betrayed you and moved before your mind did. Your knees dug into the silky lavender sheets underneath your bodies--the ones that you personally picked out, of course--and the bed creaked under you softly. Bucky was already moaning before you even lowered your face onto him.

"Mm, that's right, sugar." He moaned, placing his hands on your hips, positioning you onto his face perfectly, before he forced your body down onto his mouth.

"James!" You squeaked, gripping the headboard, feeling it rattle under your moving bodies.

"Shh, baby." He hushed you again, giving your sensitive clit a kiss. "Just let me make you feel good. You need this." He groaned, lapping his tongue around your cunt. You couldn't even protest him. Not with the whimpers leaving your lips and the way your pussy twitched whenever he kissed you too gently or pulled away from you.

Your poor little cunt was just too sensitive at that point. Any slight movement he made sent you down a spiral of primal need. So, you started rocking your hips against his face. This position let you feel the little facial hair on his jaw even better, snd each time it brushed against you, your eyes rolled back snd your thighs clenched around his face.

"James..." You whined his name, the sound going straight to his cock.

"Yeah baby?"

He licked a straight line up your cunt. You gasped.

"Never ever shave your beard, you hear me?" You told him, your voice low and threatening. He chuckled, the vibrations making your pussy ache. You whined.

"Will you cut off my head and feed it to Alpine?" He joked. You huffed.

"Oh I'll do so much more than that." You laughed darkly, driving against him faster and harder despite the very obvious ache in your hips and stomach.

He moaned against your cunt, his grip on your hips growing tighter. He forced you to still for a moment. All so he could suck and kiss your tiny little over-sensitive clit.

And there it was. Your breaking point presented to you on a silver platter.

Your head lulled back and your eyes shots into the back of your head. Your hand went down to tug at his scalp.

"Yes, yes!" You gasped. "Right there, baby--f'me. Mmmah! There. Fuck." You babbled, repeating the same words over and over through broken sobs. Fuck, Bucky had promised himself that he'd be quiet during sex, but he just gave up at that point from how hard he was getting off at your moans.

"Yeah? That's the spot, honey, huh?" He smiled, placing wet, hot, sloppy and open-mouthed kisses in your pretty, pulsating cunt. The tip of his tongue circled around your tiny bud and--just like that, you were gone.

The insides of your pussy convulsed, and your thighs snapped shut around your husbands head as you absolutely fell apart on his tongue. Your poor pussy spamsed violently as you came hard, your cum spurring all over his face wildly.

Bucky could not fight how happy it made him to see you like that, falling apart for him in a fashion as intense as this. He held your body down on his face until he almost suffocated, all so he could drink from the fountain between your legs.

"Fuck baby. So fucking messy." He moaned, closing his eyes, letting a little bit of you drip right into his mouth before he was back on you.

"Just can't help yourself, hmm?" Bucky cooed, lapping up the rest of your juices. You whined, shaking your head, biting your finger and drooling all over it while you helplessly whined at his touch.

When he was done, he gently guided you back down onto the bed next to him.

"Easy, easy." He said sweetly, his touch light and loving as you laid back down on your back. He kissed you deeply once you were settled and comfortable. You didn't realize how sore you were until you were immobile. When his hand drifted back down to your hip, you groaned into his mouth.

"You sore, baby?" He asked, kissing your cheek. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably.

"Yeah." You sighed, hating that aching sensations you were feeling. Your breasts had gone tender and your lower back had that awful pain running through it. But what was there to fear when your husband was there with you.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to keep your legs open that long." Bucky chuckled, gently kneading your sore flesh in his hands. You chuckled too.

"That's okay. We really needed that. Plus, I really enjoyed myself." You told him, your eyes sleepily fluttering shut while he random his hands over your sides. Bucky hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"That's good, baby. That's all I need to hear." He said, kissing your belly--which happened to be the best decision he had made that night because right when his lips touched your skin, you both felt a little movement in your belly.

Your eyes shot open. He looked at you shocked. You looked at him shocked.

"Did you feel that?" You asked him. The look on his face was the very obvious answer to your question.

A soft smile spread across his face. He could not believe what he had just see. It was mostly insane for you because you hadn't felt the little one kick in the past two days. Hey here they were, moving against you like it knew their daddy was there and missed him as much as you did.

Bucky looked up at you with a dopey smile.

"Yeah." He said. "We're gonna be parents."

#first post in a long time yall #sincere apologies sre in order #i needed to get this out before that fucking movie comes out!! ugh!!#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts #thunderbolts bucky #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #thunderbolts bucky smut #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes

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euseokz · 1 year ago

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@ eunseok — if only you knew just how crazy you’re driving me . . cws : oral (f) . overstimulation . wc : 1.1k+ . genre : smut

FWB! EUNSEOK who keeps an almost professional relationship with you.

all you guys do is fuck, that’s it, that’s all he wants, and he has made it obvious since the beginning. he doesn’t want to catch feelings, much less for you to fall for him, so he keeps his distance, only hits you up when he wants your body, and only goes to you when you call him because you want his. he even has a “no kisses” policy, adamant that you two never share any pecks even, the rule applying to anywhere on your bodies, because that apparently only creates attachment.

surprisingly enough, you were alright with eunseok and his stupid set of demands. you did get something good out of it either way — a good fuck and way of destressing, that is — and it wasn’t like he was unbearable or anything, just a tad bit too careful maybe. it was fine though, his carefulness if anything helpful.

when you fucked, eunseok liked to have you laid on his bed, legs thrown over his arms so he could pin you in place while he pistoned his hips into yours, not even bothering with looking up at your eyes, only focused at the way your pussy sucked his cock so well. strands of his hair would fall over his face, sticking to his forehead with the thin layer of sweat that covered it, low groans slipping past his rosy lips while his fingers dug into your thighs almost harshly. eunseok fucked you well, made you feel so good you almost forgot who you were at some points. there was just something about the way he moved, how effortlessly good he looked, how fucking well his dick fitted into your pussy and how his tip always hit against the right spot inside you with every single one of his thrusts. he knew what he was doing, knew how to make you two feel good, and that was all that mattered you supposed, nothing more needed.

you always took whatever eunseok gave you, followed his lead and allowed him to do whatever he thought best. even on the rare occasion that he pulled you to his lap, giving you a fake sense of control by being the one on top of him, he still managed to be the one fucking you, either by planting his hands on your hips and moving you up and down his dick at whichever pace he thought best, or by holding you still in place and fucking up into you. it felt good either way, so you allowed it, letting your lids fall close as you moaned about how good it was, holding onto his wrists or placing your palms against eunseok’s flushed chest for support, immersing yourself in the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of you so deliciously.

surprisingly enough, and maybe because there still was some weird kind of barrier between you two, even with how intimate you supposedly were, you never moaned eunseok’s name, and he never moaned yours, all your pretty sounds reserved to being either incoherent mewls or begs for more, no nicknames being exchanged either. neither of you had ever said that was a hard no, but you also never did it for some reason — until you did, and somehow that seemed to unlock something inside eunseok’s brain.

you had just gotten to eunseok’s apartment. it was a late friday night, and your week had been stressful to say the least. you wanted a way to relax, and eunseok knew that, your tired expression enough of a hint, so that was what he did, laying you down on his bed and undressing you silently, giving you one quick look before wrapping his arms around your upper thighs, spreading your legs so he could lay between them, his face near your pussy as he peeked his tongue out, it’s tip flicking almost experimentally over your clit. you hummed pleased, letting your shoulders finally fall down and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to immerse in the pleasure and simply rest back, moaning as you felt eunseok toy with the sensitive bud, licking it persistently but gently, applying just enough force to make arousal bubble in the pit of your stomach. it felt good, entirely too good, the way eunseok’s tongue kept on lapping at your clit, that was. eventually, the pink muscle drifted down and pressed into your hole, one of his fingers now circling the swollen bud instead, making you roll your eyes, you back arching ever so slightly as your fingers moved to hold strands of eunseok’s hair, pulling at them and bringing him closer to you, stuffing his face against your pussy. he only groaned, not protesting it at all, the fingers on his free hand digging harder into your inner thigh, pressing strongly against the plush flesh.

your moans were getting louder, your pleasure only increasing in magnitude, and before you knew it your high was starting to quickly build up, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving your mind hazy with lust, and without even noticing it, amidst your loud moans, you whined eunseok’s name. it passed you by, but the same couldn’t be applied to the man between your legs, the way you professed his name making him tense up for a second before feeling his cock ache in his pants, looking up at your blissful face before deciding to continue.

eunseok wrapped his arms tighter around your upper thighs, keeping you in place while placing both hands on your pussy, using is thumbs to spread your folds and going back to lapping at your clit, this time more desperately, closing his eyes and focusing only on your taste, on how you felt against him. soon enough you could feel yourself getting overstimulated, and it wasn’t like eunseok was ever one to push you like that, so you tugged at his hair, getting surprised when he didn’t budge, if anything only seeming more eager to keep doing what he was doing — so you let him, moaning louder, arching your back and letting the overwhelming pleasure take over you, your pleas for more getting more constant, and each time you subconsciously said eunseok’s name your second orgasm coincidently seemed to draw itself closer, until you were finally cumming again, your clit twitching against eunseok’s tongue as your high washed over you once more.

then, and only because he needed to catch his breath too, eunseok pulled back, unwrapping his arms from around you and leaning back, moving to sit in front of you.

“what was all of that about?” you asked, breathless, looking up at eunseok, noticing how his cheeks were tinted with a pretty pink tone, his lips rosy and shiny with a mix of your arousal and his own saliva.

“something about how you said my name, it drove me crazy” he replied while moving up to you, hands stopping on either side of your head while his face was mere inches away from yours. “i need you to do it again… say my name again while i fuck you”

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cinnamanz · 3 months ago

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# MAMMA MIA — chapter twenty-seven!

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

wc: 390

AWKWARD

Y/N STOOD BY THE FRONT DOOR, arms crossed, watching as sophia and her brothers hauled their bags inside. her expression was unreadable, eyes flicking over sophia for a brief second before shifting away like she was nothing more than another suitcase being dragged across the hardwood floor.

sophia wanted to say something. had been thinking about saying something since she first saw y/n standing there, indifferent as ever. but with the way y/n held herself—closed off, uninterested, like she didn’t even care that they were going to be stuck under the same roof—sophia hesitated.

still, the silence was unbearable. so she tried.

before she could, y/n stepped forward, eyes scanning the pile of bags. without a word, she reached for the largest one—sophia’s overstuffed duffel, the one that made her arms ache just carrying it inside—and hoisted it onto her shoulder like it weighed nothing.

"you’re upstairs," y/n muttered, already turning toward the staircase. "follow me."

sophia blinked, surprised, then adjusted the strap of her remaining bag and followed.

the walk up was tense. y/n didn’t look back. sophia didn’t try to make conversation. not yet.

when they reached the top, y/n nudged open the door to the master bedroom, stepping aside to let sophia pass before setting the duffel down at the foot of the bed without a word.

"this is yours?" sophia asked, half expecting y/n to say yes.

y/n shook her head. "guest room. my room’s next door."

sophia nodded slowly, pressing her lips together. she should let y/n go. should let her disappear behind the next door over and pretend this whole situation wasn’t weird.

but before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "your bass playing earlier. it was good. really good." sophia mentally face palmed at how giddy she'd sounded

y/n paused, hand still on the doorframe. she glanced back, expression unreadable.

"and," sophia continued, clearing her throat, "your acting too. at the fundraiser. your roma was—uh—phenomenal."

a flicker of something passed through y/n’s eyes, too quick to catch. but her face remained impassive. "thanks," she said, flat, almost dismissive.

then she turned on her heel, disappearing into her room without another word. sophia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. awkward. this was going to be so awkward.

masterlist ✮⋆｡˚📽️ next

FUCK YELLOWJACKETS ALL THAT SHOW EVER DOES IS BRING ME PAIN I AM IN MOURNING FUCKKKKKKK anyway . GUYS I SAW BILLIE EILISH LIVE 2 DAYS AGO IM GNA COMBUST my sophia pc was there too nd she saw billie eilish live what a lucky pc. also this was quite a lot of stuff on one chap so js ignore that LAWL

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01zfan · 1 year ago

Text

in the middle

fwb!sungchan & ex!eunseok x reader | 5k words

debated on calling this “between a rock and a hard place”. based on a request. this fic took everything out of me seriously.

contains: sungchan is the readers fwb, eunseok is the readers ex situationship, and they (eunseok and sungchan) are roommates, oral (fem. receiving), multiple orgasms, threesomes, unprotected sex, they’re fucking like crazy

my roommate just left

you read the text on your phone. you thought about all your possible options. you considered completely abandoning the errands you had on your to-do list. but if you didn’t get them done now, you never would. you knew that each time you saw sungchan it was an all day affair. so you didn’t send a text back until you threw your laundry in the dryer and cleaned the rest of the dishes.

be there in twenty minutes.

okay baby i’ll leave the door unlocked.

you would have to chide him later for calling you baby. sungchan liked to play with you in that way. he’d purposely ignore the rules you both set from the beginning of your arrangement. sometimes you think he liked it when you got frustrated with him, when you’d be a little mean and tell him what to do and what not to do. that’s how most guys his height were. the size and muscle was just for show, he liked being bossed around.

sungchan also had the habit of calling you pet names in efforts to get you attached. he wanted you to be caught in the middle of being his girlfriend and friend, all the benefits but none of the work. you didn’t know much about sungchan’s life outside your arrangement with him, but you could tell he hasn’t been told no very much. you enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t get you hung up on him. once you realized it wasn’t so much about being your boyfriend but more-so you being his, denying him the right to call you pet names outside of the bedroom became satisfying. you showed up ten minutes later than when you said you would. setting up false expectations made you feel powerful, especially when he answers the door with his signature pouty face.

seeing him lean against the doorframe trying to be casual about you showing up late made you smile.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan said, crossing him arms.

“nothing,” you say. you cross your arms too. “you gonna let me in?”

you don’t have to say anything else for sungchan to move out of the way. you walk into his apartment like you own the place, you seem to be there more than his elusive roommate. you think you’ve heard his name once but you haven’t seen his face at all. that didn’t bother you too much. the less people that knew about you and sungchan the better.

“want some water? i made food too if you want some.” sungchan says.

you can see the dishes piled in the sink. you shake your head, taking off your coat. sungchan is behind you in an instant, taking the jacket from you.

you and sungchan eventually end up on his couch. every time you come over you guys do this. it’s a routine; one you both are very dedicated to. you sit on the couch and he sits next to you on the other end. sungchan always extends his arm out along the back of the couch and you move over to this side. he puts his arm around you, and pulls you in closer. he picks a show, one that you both have had to restart a million times. eventually sungchan’s other arm finds its way on your body. he uses his hand to tilt your face towards his. he looks at with his big brown puppy eyes, mainly looking at your lips. you shamelessly look at his. when you move his hand to your hips he knows you’re ready.

sungchan moves you to straddle his lap with ease. you don’t mind the routine you have with sungchan. he’s tall, strong, handsome, and the perfect amount of ruinous. the amount where he’s a perfect person to have no strings attached hookups with while not having to worry about him violating the rules you set with him. except for the pet names. but you let it slide when you feel his hot tongue on your neck and when he whispers in your ear.

“i want you so bad, baby.” he says.

you pull away and he gives you a big grin. the sarcastic toothy one, the one that tells you he knows he’s being defiant.

you puts your hands on his knees and lean your body to one side. he still has your hands on your hips. another thing you liked about sungchan was that he didn’t know his own strength. he was so desperate with his grip on you that you could feel his fingers close to prodding your hip bones. you looked at sungchan, smiling that same toothy grin back at him.

“i’m your baby?” you ask innocently.

sungchan nods immediately, his vice grip moving to your ass.

“can we go to your room?” you ask.

sungchan moves and you get ready to hop off the couch to follow him. instead, sungchan lifts your body over his shoulder and stands up from the couch. it happens so fast you let out a yelp when you’re hoisted into the air like you weigh nothing. you slap his back for picking you up so suddenly and in response he smacks your ass.

sungchan opens the door to his room and doesn’t waste a beat to throw you on his bed. it was moments like these that made you wonder why sungchan wanted you to be so bossy to him. he demonstrated his strength often but each time it surprised you. it took almost nothing for him to to toss and throw you, yet he was always hanging on your every word, every command.

“wasn’t that fun?” sungchan giggles at your shocked state.

you straighten your hair and clothes, trying to not look so jostled. when you move to the edge of the bed to take off your pants, sungchan joins you. he sits on the edge of the bed with you and starts kissing your neck. with a hand on his shoulder you brings him closer into your neck. his hand is over your center, cupping over the fabric that covers it. sungchan nips at your neck and then laughs when you let out a sigh.

“so jumpy babe.” sungchan sucks on your collarbone, moving your shirt down.

“take it off for me.” you say, lifting your arms up.

sungchan breaks away from your neck to help you out of your top. when the shirt is covering your head you can hear something outside, sounding like a lock clicking. as fast as the sound happens it’s out of your mind. sungchan doesn’t seem to notice either, too focused on getting you undressed. the shirt is halfway over your head when you see sungchan’s door swing open. through the fabric of the shirt you can see a tall figure stand in the doorway.

“sungchan you just can’t leave the dish—“

you knew who the voice belonged to without seeing him, you just couldn’t believe it. but when your shirt came all the way off, you couldn’t stop the confusion and shock from taking over your voice.

“eunseok?” you said.

you could hear a pen drop in the room. the silence was deafening. no one spoke until eunseok pointed a finger to you.

“this is the girl you were talking about?” eunseok looks over your body once before looking at sungchan.

you couldn’t stop looking at eunseok. you assumed sungchan was looking between the two of you trying to figure out the connection.

“you know eachother?” sungchan said. he looked at your shocked face, surprised that this is what renders you speechless.

eunseok looks at you, checking to see if you will say anything. he looks at sungchan and lets out a tense breath.

“remember the girl from last summer?” eunseok says with his eyes closed.

it was like a lightbulb went off over sungchan’s head. his eyes widen and you can feel his eyes burning in the side of your face.

“this is your ex?” sungchan puts his hand over his mouth. at the mentioning of ex you snap out of your shock.

“we were never together.” you say quickly.

it’s true and not true at the same time. a situationship would be a better word to call it. you met eunseok through a mutual friend. quickly it became something you’d describe as physical but somewhere along the way it became romantic. eventually you were calling him your boyfriend despite him never asking or deserving that title. you gave yourself grace, you were young and horny and somewhat in love. you were able to break it off with eunseok before you got too hurt or too attached. ironically, your situation with eunseok was used as an example when you came up with the rules for your arrangement with sungchan.

“you called me your man all the time.” eunseok says back to you. “does she call you her man?” eunseok asks, pointing to sungchan now. you can feel your face getting hot. you are suddenly very aware of how you are barely clothed in front of your ex situationship and current hookup.

“she barely calls me sungchan.” he says, looking at you. eunseok laughs and leans against the doorframe.

“oh so you’re not good in bed?” eunseok asks sungchan. eunseok has a slight pout, like he’s pondering something. eunseok asked the question innocently, but you can feel the tension in the air go up ten notches. before you can tell eunseok it’s none of his business, sungchan speaks.

“she hasn’t ghosted me, so i know i’m better than you.” sungchan says nonchalantly.

he leans back on the bed, tracing a hand on the opposite side of your body before he slightly pulls you into him. eunseok laughs, and walks towards you on the bed. you look up to him with wide eyes and he looks down at you. his hand goes to your cheek and you think about how you’ve been in this position with eunseok before, waiting for his next move.

“she ghosted me because it was too good right baby?” eunseok taps his index finger on your cheek. you can feel sungchan pull you into him more. “after the first time your were clinging to me like a little lost puppy.”

you wish you could deny the man that stands before you. but you recall the first time you had sex with him, the nonchalant guy who you had to make the first move on. you had no control over your actions anymore as you thought about the night he drew orgasm after orgasm out of you. just with eunseok’s hand on your cheek you remember all the fun you had with him, how he made you the most submissive you’ve ever been for a man. he was right that you ended things because it was too good, afraid that he would end up doing you worse than if you were alone. leaving him was the hardest decision you ever made, having to block him for your own sanity. when you nod your head yes to eunseok you can feel sungchan next to you stiffen.

“so mean baby. in front of your new fuck buddy too?” eunseok says. you turn to sungchan and see that he’s staring at eunseok now.

“she’s here for me eunseok. not you.” sungchan has his hand over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna be thinking about me the whole time aren’t you sweetheart?” eunseok still has his hand on your face. he looks like a dream in front of you. you try to gain your bearings, trying to sound confident.

“n-no. i’m with sungchan.” your accept that in your current situation a stutter can’t be controlled.

eunseok uses his finger to tap on your chin, and you feel yourself instinctually wanting to open your mouth. usually in this position eunseok would press his the pad of his thumb on your tongue, or to stick his index finger into your mouth. you figured he liked seeing you gag on him.

“who’s bigger?” eunseok says.

he talks to you in the voice he had when he wanted you to obey him, the one that made you always squirm when you had flashbacks to it. you can feel sungchan’s solid body next to you and you shake your head.

“i don’t know.” you say with wide eyes.

“who made you feel the best?” sungchan says.

sungchan speaking made you snap his head towards him. his angry expression towards eunseok is replaced with that smile, the one that made you know it was going to be a long day. you look to eunseok and then sungchan again. sungchan moves his hand to your head to tilt it, giving him access to your exposed neck.

“i-i don’t remember.” you stutter.

eunseok gets on his knees in front of you. you draw in a breath as he comes closer and closer to you. he uses his hands on the inside of your knees to push them apart. sungchan starts kissing your neck.

“what about i remind you?” eunseok says, slowly lowering his head.

he looks you in your eyes one last time, waiting for your permission to continue. you nod your head as sungchan starts sucking harshly on your neck to leave a mark. eunseok ducks his head down to your heat and you don’t know what to do feeling two pairs of hands on you. sungchan moves behind you and brings your back to his chest. his hands feel you up, tweaking your nipples and caressing your hair while eunseok pushes your thighs apart.

“oh my god.” you moan feeling eunseoks familiar tongue on you. eunseok laughs and looks up past you, to make eye contact with sungchan.

“you remember now?” eunseok says “because she hasn’t forgotten.” eunseok says into your heat.

your head lulls back against sungchan shoulder. he uses the opportunity to kiss your cheek. sungchan makes a show of playing with your boobs, like he is mocking eunseok for not having this type of access to you. eunseok responds by sucking on your clit. he brings a finger into your heat, pumping in and out quickly. you whimper pitifully, trying to hold onto anything to ground yourself.

“eunseok.” you say.

“i know,” he mockingly coos into your heat. “hold her tight.” he says to sungchan.

eunseok picks up the pace and sungchan uses one arm to wrap around your body, caging your arms at your side. the inability to move heightens the sensation. you are aware that you’re now at the mercy of two large men and it makes you feel lightheaded. eunseok pulls you forward causing you to slip from a little from sungchan’s grip. sungchan gathers you up again and eunseok shoots him a look because he’s pulling you away from him. eunseok leans forward onto the bed to keep in contact with your clitoris.

“you gonna cum on his face?” sungchan asks into your hair.

you nod and turn your head to face sungchan. he looks at you with hooded eyes and you can feel him twitch against your back. you must’ve been too focused on sungchan because eunseok loses his patience and pulls away to quickly slap your vagina. you yell in sungchan’s face but his expression doesn’t change. if anything his eyes become even more hooded at your unregulated action. sungchan starts to creep his hand down but before he can your releasing yourself over eunseok’s face. eunseok keeps you clean, licking up every drop of evidence that you came. he stands up from the floor and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“you remember now?” eunseok says smirking.

before you can nod, you feel sungchan flip you over so you’re on all fours. you look at eunseok from the new angle, upside down as you look at him from under your body. eunseok is replaced with sungchan as he bumps the other to the side. sungchan pushes you forward on the bed and you crawl trying to make room for him. sungchan is behind you, covering his digits in spit.

“watch this.” sungchan says to eunseok.

sungchan gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting on your pussy. the impact has your stretching your arms out on the bed and going more into an arch. when sungchan lightly smacks your pussy you bring covers to your face to muffle your whine. when you peer down between your legs you see sungchan look to eunseok as they bask in your reaction. you can’t help but moan at the sight, seeing your two men try so hard to outperform the other. they hide their desperation under the guise of competition, but you know them. whoever you choose to be the ‘loser’ of tonight will think about it for the rest of their life, sulking around their shared apartment. it doesn’t matter to you who you pick, it will probably be determined purely on chance. it doesn’t matter because you are absolutely winning when sungchan puts his index finger inside of you.

“she likes it messy.” sungchan says matter-of-factly.

eunseok scoffs at sungchan attempting to know you but works with sungchan to feel you up. both of their big hands roam the expanse of your body, eunseok spreadsingyour folds while sungchan fingers you. you put your hand behind you, grasping at nothing. eunseok gives you his hand and you hold it tight.

sungchan increases his speed as he places a sloppy kiss to your ass cheek. you squeeze eunseok’s hand when sungchan slaps the same place he kissed. you lurch forward but sungchan uses his arm to hold you place while he ravages you. it’s a mess to say the least, you can feel slick and spit roll down the back of your thighs. even though sungchan was messy, it usually wasn’t to this extent. he was determined to be the complete opposite of eunseok. you feel his hand pinch your clit and you let out a cry into the blanket.

“you’re gonna let him do that to you?” eunseok says.

“mhm.” you whine into the blanket.

“he always talks about how you boss him around, but look at you now.” eunseok coos.

at some point eunseok moved from beside sungchan to sit next to you on the bed. eunseok’s clothes were gone now too, but he didn’t touch himself. he used his hands to push hair out of your face and to rub your cheek.

“so fucking docile.” sungchan murmurs before going back to your pussy.

sungchan competes with you to drown out your moans with slurping sounds as he sloppily eats you out. the sound drives you crazy, and when sungchan slaps your ass again you come undone. eunseok holds your hands as you come in sungchan’s mouth, thighs twitching and you bucking backwards to grind on his tongue.

you let your body slide forward on the bed, two orgasms sucked out of you. the most you’ve ever done in one sitting was three, but you already feel spent from the never ending energy of the two competing men. you have a fleeting moment where you want to tell them to stop and decide the winner then and there but you want to see this through. you can already feel the anticipation building up again when eunseok guides you to to lay your back on the bed.

eunseok slots himself in between your legs and sungchan gets off the bed. you can hear clothes being removed and being thrown somewhere in the room. eungchan sits by your side, rubbing your arm. eunseok puts both your ankles behind his head. he uses an arm to straighten your legs, and brings his dick to your heat. you can feel the tip prodding at your entrance. you look at eunseok, waiting for him to fuck you and make up for lost time.

“what’s the safe word?” eunseok asks.

you look at sungchan and then eunseok. he givese you a withholding look, one that tells you that you won’t be getting anything until you answer him. you close your eyes.

“hibiscus” you say quietly.

“same word, huh?” eunseok laughs looking at sungchan’s expression. you hide your face in embarrassment but they are pulled away by sungchan.

“don’t hide, need to see you.” sungchan says and for the first time the two can agree on something. eunseok stares at you as he slides in, previous orgasms letting him bottom out with ease. you struggle to take it. your mouth opens with a silent whine.

“oh i know.” eunseok says.

eunseok slowly drags out and the way your thighs are pushed together makes you feel every ridge. you dig your nails into sungchan’s hand, feeling like your getting split open. eunseok puts his spare hand on your tummy, pressing hard as he pushes back in.

“you feel me?” eunseok asks, laughing at your fucked out expression.

“so big.” you whimper.

“told you.” eunseok says to sungchan.

eunseok grabs your hand from sungchan’s grasp and puts it on your stomach where it was previously. he keeps his hand over yours and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and you move without resistance. the palm of his hand overlaps the back of yours while he intertwines your fingers.

“missed your pussy.” eunseok says. you moan in response.

the gentle deep strokes turns to something faster. the pace causes your thighs to press together and slap against eunseok’s skin. your boobs move in tandem with his thrusts, you slowly begin losing your mind all over again. eunseok’s hand squeezes yours and you feel sungchan’s pair of hands return to your body. his touches are light as a feather, grazing over every part of your body. you can feel his fingertips run over your chest, your stomach, nose, everything. you feel sungchan all over you and you feel eunseok inside of you.

“i missed your dick.” you say.

“oh i know sweetheart. i know.” eunseok says. he’s having trouble understanding what you say to him at this point. he’s getting lost in you, thinking about how sungchan has been fucking you this whole time. eunseok debates on giving you a baby, one that looks like him so you’ll never forget him.

he opts to finish on your stomach, pulling out after he rubs your clit until your thighs close around his hand. high pitched squeaks fall from your mouth and eunseok can see slick glisten as it comes from you. you shake and then it subsides. eunseok swipes his finger down your slit and sucks on the digit, trying to remember until he can taste you again

you see sungchan looking over you when you come down from your high. a smile plays on his lips when he pinches your cheek. you are too exhausted to stop him, shaky hands still holding onto eunseok’s.

“you got one more in you? for me?” sungchan asks.

his hand drifts down to your clit. instead of pinching it like he did before, he does a soft revolution. you’re guessing he does it to gauge your reaction, how sensitive you truly are. you squirm underneath his touch, and you hear eunseok gasp when you clench around his sensitive dick. eunseok pulls out and you look up to sungchan with pleading eyes. you don’t know what you’re begging for, but you still feel insatiable despite being three orgasms in.

“i think you got one more in ya.” sungchan says.

he flips you over, putting you back in a doggy position. you hear eunseok scoff behind you, but you’re so focused on what sungchan is going to do to you that you don’t spare eunseok a glance. you think it’s about the position, eunseok asking sungchan if he’s a one trick pony. you almost object when you hear sungchan tell eunseok he can ask you later about all his other tricks.

sungchan’s hand splays across your lower back, helping your sweaty body go into a deeper arch. sungchan wastes no time putting a finger inside of you. a moan rips through you and you lean backwards, trying to grind on his digits.

just as quick as his fingers are inside of you, he pulls them out. sungchan uses his two hands on your ass to spread you and push you forward. you let yourself glide down on the bed, your lower half getting closer and closer to the sheets.

“lay across eunseok, baby.” sungchan says behind you.

you have nothing left in you to tell him you aren’t his baby. maybe you are at this point. regardless, you listen to his request and immediately let your lower half drape across eunseok’s thighs. this angle helps you keep your ass elevated than the rest of your body and eunseok has a hand on your body to help maintain that arch. you look up at eunseok, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. he looks at you, then looks at your pussy. his eyes are dark as he looks at your womanhood, puffy and sensitive.

“such a good girl.” eunseok purrs. you nod your head, happy at to get the approval.

“don’t forget to say my name, okay?” sungchan says. you can hear the smirk behind his snide comment.

sungchan gets close to your body, so close that you can feel his shirt slightly touching your back. you think he has taken it off when you no longer feel it grazing your skin but you just see he has taken the bottom of his shirt and put it in his mouth. something about it is so hot, he want to fuck you so bad and has been so caught up in his stupid little competition he hasn’t even thought to get himself undressed. you think it’s a shame, you love seeing his chiseled body he hides with baggy clothes. but something is equally as intoxicating as only being able to get a peak of his body through the tiny portion of his shirt he has lifted up. you can see only a little bit of his abs, sleek from sweat. you think about how badly you want to touch his body when he uses his hand to guide himself into you. you’re no longer making sounds you recognize, letting out something between a moan and a cry when you feel how deep sungchan is reaching inside of you.

he’s relentless, clapping his front against your ass. each time he bottoms out he grinds inside of you. you’re seeing white when he picks up the speed, moving his hips languidly into you. sungchan comes close pressing his body to you. you can feel how solid he is against you beneath the shirt. he comes all the way to your ear, taking your earlobe into his mouth and laving his hot tongue around the area.

“you like it don’t you, sweetheart?” he whispers into your ear.

nothing comes out of your mouth except for drool. it gets on eunseok’s legs as he watches sungchan fuck you.

“you usually have so much to say, honey.” sungchan says.

he kisses your cheek and you strain your neck so he can kiss more of you.

“such a cutie.” sungchan giggles as he pulls back his hips. “can you say my name?”

“s-sungchan.” you pull together the last of your bearing to say his name.

sungcahn picks up the speed, fucking you into the mattress. you hold onto the sheets and you manage to perk your ass up even more. you’re so close and sungchan knows it, bringing a hand to your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, only placing it there as a reminder. it drives you crazy, knowing he has the power to close his hand around your neck. sungchan looks over to eunseok, watching you two like a hawk.

“say my name again.”

“sungchan.” you moan. you say his name a thousand more times as you cum around him, fourth orgasm making you see stars and leaves you shaking like a leaf. you are in space as your orgasm washes over you. sungchan’s thrust get sloppy quickly as he finishes too. he says your name mixed in with the petnames you chastise him for and his sweat seeps through his shirt, making your back even more sweaty.

sungchan is still inside of you when you relax on eunseok’s legs. you try to fight sleep, but the decreasing rate of his heart and steady breaths slowly tells you to close your eyes. you are spent in every sense of the word, going to sleep with sungchan still inside of you.

“eunseok,” sungchan whispers, trying not to wake you up. eunseok looks from his spot on the bed to your sleeping face “is she asleep?”

eunseok nods his head.

sungchan sighs contently, slightly lifting you so he can pull out. sungchan watches eunseok slip out from under you and leave the room. sungchan carefully moves your body to lay on the bed next to him. he looks at your serene face and moves hair out of the frame of your face, kissing your forehead. sungchan tries to catch his breath, mind still reeling from the last couple hours. he’s enjoying his alone time with you when eunseok comes back into the room with a warm rag. the two work together to wipe you down, you wake up in a daze when they reach your core.

“it’s sensitive.” you sleepily whine.

“shhh go back to sleep.” the two men say in unison. they look at each other and the air becomes competitive again. sungchan gets the urge to draw you a bath and eunseok suddenly wants to cook you a three course meal for when you inevitably wake up hungry.

they continue wiping you down and they sungchan tucks you in. they close sungchan’s door behind them and they sit on the couch in the living room while you rest. eunseok and sungchan falls into their usual roommate routine. sungchan presses play on another show and eunseok grabs a drink from the fridge. the two sit in silence for a moment, then eunseok turns towards sungchan.

“i was better.”

#requestz #01zfan: eunseok #01zfan: sungchan #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #riize smut

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chrystal-ink · 1 month ago

Text

The Hedgehog harem prologue part one: The call

Shadow(s) X GN Reader

series rating: M Minors DNI Chapter Warnings: None Note: Here it is the beginning of the hedgehog harem this and part two is mostly set up for the rest of the series just getting all the nitty gritty out of the way so we can have some real fun!(also just a note y/n is a clothing/ dressmaker it’s rarely mentioned and doesn’t affect much but it’s important to know) Tags: @hyenalover2630 Part Two

One of the things you liked most about your relationship with Shadow was the comfortable silence. shadow had never been one for too many words often preferring to have a single well thought out conversation over a dozen meaningless ones.

the two of you had been dating for a little over a year and a half and you had settled into a nice routine. he would go to work you would work from home and take care of the house, he would come home then the two of you would cook dinner together and talk about your days, then the two of you either relaxed in the living room, went on a date or (if the two of you were feeling extra spicy that night) spent the evening in bed wrapped in each others embrace.

it was a good system it gave Shadow a break from all the pressures of the outside world while maintaining his active and earth saving lifestyle. Shadow always made sure to keep his two worlds apart he never let his work bleed too much into his home life, only calling you if there was an emergency.

so when you got a call from Shadow as you were working in your home studio you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Shadow, Hey What's going on?"

"Something happened today at work."

you dreaded those words, anxiety crashed over you a million awful possibilities flashed through your head forcing you to stop working. all your energy focused on the call

"What do you mean? are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I just- Could you keep it down!" Shadow heaved a sigh. "It's hard to explain but to sum it up we're going to need some space for guests, I'm coming home early with them."

"Oh, okay do I know them?"

"technically, Do you remember when I told you about the Paradox prism?"

"Yes."

"it's sort of like that, except it's all me" he spoke as if he didn't believe it himself.

"What?"

"yah it's confusing but they need to stay somewhere while we figure out a way to get them home. Tails is working on it now."

"Okay, I guess I'll set up some cots then how many are there?"

Shadow was silent for a moment before hesitantly answering "five."

"Five, are you kidding me."

"I wouldn't joke about something like this"

you stifled a giggle "Yes I know that sweetie, I'm just in disbelief right now. How are you feeling about all of this?"

"I'm still not sure, do you think we could talk in private once everything gets settled?"

"Of course, I'm almost done with my work for the day then I'll get everything set up."

"Okay, it might take a while to get everyone onboard so take your time."

"Will do, I love you"

"Love you too"

even after all this time hearing his confession still brought a red tint to your cheeks. But you didn't have time to dwell on your beating heart, there was a task at hand and a situation you needed to mentally prepare yourself for.

🦔

It was two hours after you received the call when you heard Shadow's motorcycle drive up to the house along with Rouge's car. a pit formed in your stomach.

Rouge was the first to enter, "hey Doll, how are you doin" she greeted closing the door behind her.

"Rouge, Hey, a little concerned if I'm being honest, how did this happen?"

"were still not sure we've already ruled out Eggman as a possibility but anything beyond that is a total mystery to us."

"Okay, so I assume that means that we don't know how long they're going to be here."

"afraid so sweetheart."

"And Shadow? how does he seem?"

"He's like the others confused and a bit agitated. nothing that you can't fix especially with all this charm I hear so much about."

you giggled "I hope so, this whole thing sounds like a lot."

"It is, but we'll figure it out we always do." Rouge gave you a reassuring smile. "Shadow is giving the others a rundown on who you are, it seems that you're quite unique none of the others have even heard of you."

your heart sunk at those words. "So they don't know me?"

"I'm sure it doesn't mean much doll, some of them didn't know me either."

you sighed "I hope you're right."

"please, when have I ever been wrong? Now are you ready to meet them?"

"Ready as I'll ever be I suppose"

"I'll go ahead and get them, oh and fair warning watch out for the tall one, he's particularly feisty."

as Rouge left you found yourself straightening out your clothes and adjusting your hair in the mirror. you mentally steeled yourself taking a deep breath as the door once again opened and the first Shadow stepped in.

you watched as the other Shadows walked in studying their differences with care looking for minute details to tell them apart, some were easier than others, one Shadow's quills seemed sharper than the rest creating a harsh angle halfway through, a far cry from the gentle swoop you were so used to.

The most alien one to you was the one who had two separate eyes, it was strange for certain but if you were being honest it made him look kind of cute.

you were defiantly not expecting a medieval knight to walk into your living room that being said seeing him like that made your inner romance novel fan's heart skip a beat.

the tall one Rouge told you about stood out most to you, literally. while he wasn't extremely tall he stood a good foot above the rest, his scowl was the deepest by far though, and you could tell that he was going to be the most trouble.

the last one was almost indistinguishable from yours his chest was slightly fluffier than what you were used t and his black quills has a more blue tint to them but that was only if you were stretching it. if your Shadow hadn't come up beside you you would have just assumed it was him.

your heart fluttered at the sight of all the Shadows, how could it not? they were all in fact your boyfriend technically it was only natural for you to be attracted to them.

You turned to your Shadow eyes locking, he had been on guard you could tell. his usual determined gaze locked on his face, he allowed his expression to soften as he gazed at you. you smiled at him giving him a little "Hi" to which he nodded.

after re steeling himself he turned to address the group

"This is Y/N my romantic partner. You will treat them with respect and kindness, any problems you have with them will be addressed to me, understood?"

The other Shadows nodded and agreed reluctantly. you could tell they hated it, Shadow never liked being told what to do, so why would the others?

"I assume you all figured out that if a fight broke out between you it would be catastrophic?"

"Let's just say we owe Tails a new table saw, and a wall, and maybe a new field"

"What? how did you- you know what, we'll figure that out later"

"Right, each pf you are going to introduce yourselves to Y/N and they'll give you a nickname to use around the house."

a mountain of protests arose from the group all except the knight complaining "why?" and "How come?"

"SHADOW!" you called out all heads tuned to you. you smiled "That's why, don't worry if you don't like it I can change it but it will make things a lot easier if I know who I'm talking to."

"But why should he get to keep his name, shouldn't it go to the strongest?"

"Well for one you should all be equally matched, two this is his home universe, and three if I'm being frank he sleeps with me so he gets first pick."

the tall one was taken aback unable to argue with your logic, you could hear Rouge snicker in the corner as he stepped back into line.

"now let's start with you" you made your way over to the Shadow with the Sharpest quills

❌

Shadow watched as you approached him silently assessing you, you were hardly difficult to look at his gaze seeming to gravitate to you for reasons he had yet to figure out. you seemed easy enough to take down however you certinally had the sprit of a fighter in you and that could not be ignored.

"Hi, My name is Y/N." your voice was sweet almost breaking through his guard, almost.

"Shadow" he replied

You smiled at him "Is it alright if i call you Edge?"

He gave a humph before replying "I Suppose so."

You responded with a hum almost mimicking him "Okay then Edge it is. nice meeting you."

He stared at you in awe for a moment before breaking back into reality. "likewise"

🎬

Shadow had never seen someone quite like you before, you were unique like him, he found the colorful nature of others a bother but with you the color of your fur worked well for you. you gave him a smile that made him feel warm and welcomed.

"Hello, how are you doing?" you spoke in a gentle voice almost as gentle as- never mind he couldn't think about that right now.

"I'm fine" he responded much colder than he intended "My name is Shadow" more gentle this time.

you smiled at him once again "Y/N, would you mind if I called you dual?"

"That will work for now"

Smiling back at him you replied "good, well it's nice to meet you dual"

a warmth filled his chest something he hadn't felt in a great while. "Nice to meet you too"

⚔️

In all of Lancelot's adventures, of all the creatures he's come across, nymph, fairy, dragon, mermaid. never has he come across a creature as beautiful as you. the way your eyes sparkled like gemstones, your hair flowed like a lake, your steps were graceful almost as if you were floating.

He knelt before you taking your hand into his.

"Thank you for welcoming me into your home, My Name is Sir Lancelot"

"You mean like-"

"Yes" The one called Shadow replied

"Oh, well I suppose you don't need a nickname then."

"I'm afraid not keeper of the house."

"You can just call me Y/N, and I hope you enjoy staying here"

"with a home such as this I know I will"

💥

It wasn't often that someone was stupid enough to go toe to toe with him, it was even less often that that person won. so then why did you? there was certainly something about you that he couldn't quite place. you were undeniably attractive, not that he would admit it but that wasn't quite it. from the second he laid eyes on you he couldn't take them off not if he could help it.

"Shadow" he responded coldly as you approached him

"Y/N" you responded "I think I'll call you Tower"

He crossed his arms "Fine"

You gave him a smile that implied that you knew something he didn't, and he was eager to find out what it was.

"Nice meeting you"

"Sure"

6️⃣

He looked at you the enigma that you were. His whole life all he's known was fear, fear of his existence, fear of his power, fear of what he would do. and yet, despite this fear this universe his counterpart found someone who saw him not only as a friend but as a partner. no something had to be wrong, what were your plans?

"Hello, sorry to leave you for last" you gave him your name, as if he hadn't heard it six times already.

"My name is Shadow, but you can call me Six."

"Works for me, nice meeting you Six"

he watched as you took his hand in yours and gently squeezed it giving him a reassuring smile.

your smile put him at ease for the moment, but he couldn't let his guard down not for a second.

🦔

"that's everybody I guess, I'll Show you to your rooms then, I just put Dinner in the oven it should be done in an hour which should give you all some time to settle in."

"Lucky you" Rouge whispered in you ear as you led the pack of Hedgehogs down the hallway. a comment which you snickered at.

"Please Rouge nothing's going to happen." Little did you know just how wrong you would be.

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #the hedgehog harem #boom shadow x reader #movie shadow x reader #lancelot shadow x reader

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dearsnow · 11 months ago

Text

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He��s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

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