#but I’ll get to walk some of it off soon enough! just gotta. keep stretching. constantly.

[peaches2217]

Some family and I are heading to Branson for two days of shows, shopping, and general fun! I had to wake up at 4:30, but since I’m not the one driving, I’ve gotten a nap in and I can kick back and relax the rest of the way up. And I brought a travel companion to keep me company too!

[winchester-girl67]

Don’t Say A Word (Part 10)

Summary: Dean's jealousy starts to show when Y/N tends to Sam's hand. And he gets overprotective when Sam asks for her help with the case.

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,071

Warnings: language, angst, arguing, bickering, minor injury, brief mentions of death/drugs, drinking, Sam being cute, pining, jealousy, unrequited feelings, love triangle, slow burn, some fluff

A/N: We see a bit more of the love triangle going on in this part. It just sort of happened when I wrote Sam.

_____

Dean was looking at you with what could only be described as frustrated jealousy when you dragged Sam into the cabin. It struck you as odd since you were supposed to hate each other. You had hated each other for most of the time you were together. Minus the twelve hours the truce had lasted, six of which were spent asleep.

You pushed Sam to sit on the edge of the tub as you stood in front of him. It was certainly a change to manhandle someone practically twice your size for once. It was a bit of a power rush, you had to admit, even if you knew Sam was letting you do it.

You took out the first aid kit and disinfected the crescent bite mark on his palm. You added that antibiotic cream that Dean had used on you and gently applied a large bandage over the wound. All the while Dean hovered in the doorway, pacing back and forth until you shot him a dirty look and he backed off.

_____

"You want me to do what?" You asked with wide eyes, a while later, sitting on the couch next to Sam while Dean sat hunched over awkwardly on the bottom bunk so his head wouldn't hit the top part of the frame.

"Pretend to be Auburn, just for a couple of hours until I can get Ketch to set up a meeting with the man in charge of the operation. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you, Y/N." Sam bargained, crossing his heart and using those damned puppy dog eyes on you again.

"But you yourself said I don't look anything like her." You argued, not all that anxious to throw yourself back into that hot mess that you barely made it out of in the first place.

"You don't, not really. You've got something that she doesn't." He smiled, brushing back your hair and gazing into your eyes, unaware of the tinge of red creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. You heard Dean make a fake gagging noise behind you and shot him a hateful stare as he rolled his eyes in return. "But I've been thinking about that. With the makeup and wig she usually wears to events, I think you could pass-"

"You think?"

"Like I said, Ketch still thinks that you were her. This wouldn't be that far of a stretch and you would never be in the same room as the man in charge." Sam tried to explain, but you just kept shaking your head. "Just hear me out. If we get this guy, you are home-free. You get to walk away and live your life again. Right now you're stuck here playing doppelgänger until Auburn returns and let's face it, that's probably not any time soon. I just need an in to flush him out. I need you."

"But, what if-"

"I'll be with you the whole time, Ketch won't even come near you. I promise." Sam urged and despite your nerves, you were considering it.

You wanted to go home, sleep in your own bed, wear your own clothes, and take a shower that didn't smell like rotten eggs. All without your grumpy sidekick, or having to watch over your shoulder at every odd creak and groan that your old apartment inevitably made. You told yourself that you could do this. You could get into the mindset of Auburn, you could work with Sam on catching this guy, and you trusted him to keep you safe. He did it once.

"For the record, I don't like this. But," you sighed, combing your hair back through your fingers. "I guess, I don't have much of a choice."

"Thank you, Y/N-" Sam began.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me. This isn't her fight, Sam. She's a fucking civilian. She isn't doing this." Dean blurted out, finally having had enough of the sidelines.

"Excuse you, but you don't talk for me. I make my own decisions." You fumed.

"Yeah well, you're terrible at it, so somebody with a little common sense needs to step in and save you from yourself." Dean argued.

"I guess that rules you out then." You taunted, earning a frown from Dean. "And you don't control me, so don't pretend to."

"No wonder you two hate each other. All you do is bicker." Sam interrupted.

"Nobody asked you, Samuel." Dean reprimanded, shooting his little brother a stern side glance.

"Look, Dean, she's gonna be fine-"

"I'm coming with you." Dean demanded.

"No." His brother retorted.

"Yes," Dean countered.

"Nu-uh." Sam shook his head.

"Uh-huh," Dean nodded.

The whole exchange looked very juvenile to you. Like you supposed how they would fight when they were younger.

"You can't. They know who you are, Dean." Sam stressed, pushing back his hair to show off his serious face.

"Sure, but they don't know what I look like. We'll just say that I'm the guy that snatched her and I want a finder's fee or something." Dean explained dryly.

"Finder's fee?" You repeated with an unamused expression, but Dean just smirked at you tauntingly.

"It's too risky," Sam responded.

"Riskier without me." Dean agreed.

"Not gonna happen, Dean. There's photos of you on social media in the background with celebrities. All it takes is for Ketch to recognize you and we're busted."

"Dude, if he hasn't spotted the sore thumb by now," Dean pointed at you and you scowled back at him. "I doubt he's gonna pick me outta the crowd, especially since it's usually just my hand or a butt cheek."

"Not happening and I'm not talking about this anymore," Sam ordered, metaphorically putting his foot down. "I'm in charge of this operation. What I say goes, Dean, and so help me if you get in the way I'll have you detained."

"Whatever, I need a drink." Dean grumbled stubbornly.

He made his way into the kitchen and went through the cupboards until he found a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself two fingers and downed the glass, making an annoying hiss as it burned his throat. You were sure this was far from over between the two of them. You figured he was probably used to calling the shots with his little brother and in the end, he was gonna do whatever the hell he wanted; so there was no use to continuing arguing about it.

It was as if Sam could read your mind, watching you glare at Dean as he poured another glass, sipping from it this time. He patted your knee, gaining your attention and smiled at you. His hazel eyes were soft and affectionate and you wondered how this guy could ever be related to a hard-ass like Dean. Hell, why was Dean even still on your mind when Sam was so close with his hand still on your knee.

You let out a breath and returned the smile, sliding your hand over his and entwining your fingers. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you just needed a little comfort, some reassurance that only came from the touch of another human being. Something that you obviously weren't going to get from Dean again anytime soon and it didn't seem to bother Sam, he even gave you a light squeeze of his hand in return. You didn't expect to feel any sort of closeness to the man who'd drugged and kidnapped you, but somehow he was easier to connect with than Dean. Ultimately, he needed you to catch this guy and you needed him to get your life back.

"Getting a little chummy with your mark there, aren't ya, Sammy?" Dean said, eyeing your hands together when he returned to lounge on the bottom bunk.

"Back off, Dean. Why are you being such a dick today?" Sam asked, letting go of your hand in a huff.

"Maybe because I've got a client that won't listen to a fucking word I say and a little brother who's enabling her; making my life a hell of a lot more difficult." Dean ranted.

"I'm not your fucking client. I thought we've been through this." You snapped.

"I'm still responsible for you."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"You really are a stubborn pain in my ass." You grumbled, leaning back in your seat and sinking into the couch.

"Because I care?"

"But, do you really?" You snarked, side eyeing him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He frowned as if all your bickering had meant nothing.

"I don't know. Does Dean Winchester, ladies man, even care about anyone? I mean that's why you never had a relationship longer than a week, right?" You speculated, since you had no idea how long his longest relationship was. The look on his face told you, you weren't far off.

"That's different," he uttered.

"I'm sure it is." You scoffed.

"I'm not some monster, Y/N." Dean said and you could see the muscles in his jaw tightening as he glared at you, a quarter tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

"Could've fooled me," you bit back and shrugged.

"Oh sure. Because I've been so cruel to you, doing everything I possibly could to make you comfortable and safe. Yet, you still hate me. Did I drug you? Was I rough with you? No. All I've ever done is protect you even when I didn't need to. I know I could walk away right now- Hell, I could've walked away days ago when you disappeared at that diner, but I didn't. Because on some level I felt guilty, I felt responsible, but not anymore. You wanna risk your life, go ahead. I'm not gonna be your safety net anymore. I don't owe you anything." Dean said, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go and making that hiss sound again.

He set the tumbler down on top of the television and stomped out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind himself. The wood banged against the frame loudly, making you jump in your seat next to Sam.

There was this longing feeling you had, staring at the door after him. You found yourself hoping that it would open again and he would return. It hurt knowing that Dean was giving up on you, even if that's what you thought you wanted. You couldn't tell left from right when it came to what you were feeling lately, but you refused to think that anything more could develop from the hatred between you two.

"You okay?" Sam asked, pulling your attention away from the door and you gripped at your thighs to settle yourself.

"Mhm. Can I ask you something?" Sam nodded before you continued. "Is he always like this?"

"Uh... Look, Y/N, Dean's always been rough around the edges but he means well. He's just been through a lot this past year."

"He treats me like I'm a child that needs to be told not to touch a hot stove. I'm capable of not dying on my own, you know."

"Don't tell him I told you this, but this time last year, Dean lost a client on the job. It was a freak accident on a ferris wheel after a concert. Some drugs were involved, but he felt like it was his fault and has been blaming himself ever since. Even though she didn't listen to him when he told her to stay within eyesight, and by time he found her it was too late. He was her handler for six months and I always thought they had something more going on, but Dean's only ever denied it." Sam explained, somehow making you feel like a complete jerk for the hassle you'd given him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t do relationships. "My point is, don't hold everything against him. He's just doing what he thinks is right."

"I don't mean to, Sam, I swear. It's just every time I hear his voice- I dunno, I just wanna shut him up.” You fake strangled the air in emphasis, “You know?"

"Mhm, Dean can have that effect on you. Especially when he's in bodyguard mode." Sam chuckled.

"So, he is a bodyguard then?" You teased, your lips tugging up at the corners.

"Uh, yeah, don't tell him I called him that either." Sam smirked sheepishly as if he didn't want to get in trouble.

"Your secret’s safe with me." You crossed your heart and smiled.

_________________________

A/N: Read part 11 here

_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @crustycheeks​ @kazsrm67​ @sexyvixen7​ @lyarr24​ @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99​ @yvonneeeee​ 

Forever SPN: @hobby27​

Don't Say A Word: @lacilou​ @mlovesstories​ @spn730015​ @hunni-bunny​ @ria132love​ @fmstafford  @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @houseforwhores​ @siospins2​ @globetrotter28​ @nt-multi-fandom​ @maggiegirl17​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @tigergirllolipop​ @stoneyggirl2​

[denim-devil]

Intoxicated

Request — okok this is gonna be so poorly worded buttttt, being drunk off dom!billy’s dick? possibly based on the gif you sent with his hand and the cologne

A/N - Literally screaming, crying and throwing up- this request got me going crazy, enjoy! (Also this is not beta’d so there may be some spelling mistakes) @marvelficsforguys

You mewled at his sheets, your knuckles a light shade of white as you scrunch up the silk like cotton. His fingers glided into you with ease, the cold jelly like substance helping the breach.

Billy growled at the sight, your hole twitching around the two girthy digits that now occupied your hole, stretching you out just enough for his dick.

Throwing your head back in pleasure, you reach back clawing at his arm, practically begging for him, his cock aching between his thighs.

“Fu- Billy ple- please” you pant, now pushing back onto his thick fingers, watching his smirk fade into an “o” shape, as if your eagerness shocked him, but he knew of your…neediness, your talent to drive him crazy, to switch him into a hungry beast.

“Yeah? Tell me how you want it-“ his words were nothing short of dirty, nor rushed, he too wanted to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day but he had to teach you a lesson, one that would eventually make you learn, manors come first.

You nod, turning to him, his lips nibbling away at your ear. His fingers jammed eagerly into you, quick enough to keep you stretched, the lewd slick noises only pushing Billy to pull them out, using the same hand to slick up his aching cock.

“Tell me or I’ll stop, I’ll fucking stop and leave you like this, a mess, a cock drunken mess…”

You shake your head with vigour, wanting nothing more then to please Billy, make him feel good, you practically craved the attention, the praises and marks, all of it.

“Fuc- I-I want you to f-fuck me hard, I don’t c-care how, jus please-“

Billy paused his movements, his much larger hands clutching onto your waist, practically moving you body into a compromising position, one of his hands moving to the middle of your back, pressing down slightly.

You automatically arch your back, pressing your ass back onto Billy’s cock earning a half groan, half chuckle.

“You really want it don’t you?”

He preened at the way you wiggled your hips, it was as if you invited him especially to enjoy whatever show you had planned for him because Billy was sure you had something hid up your sleeve.

Pressing back, you giggled playfully. Of course you wanted it, you were right where Billy wanted you, fuck you were messing around with the newest addition to Hawkins High and it had you head spinning.

“Cat got your tongue huh?” Billy remarked playfully before swatting your left cheek, you flinch on contact, the sting soon following breaking the spell he had over you.

“F-Fuck”

Your reaction only forced another swat out of Billy but this time it was harder and it had your body rocking slightly forwards into the mattress below.

He smooths the same hand over the red blotchy hand print which quickly formed over the stretch of skin, Billy’s teeth sank into his bottom lip stopping the deep growl that formed at the back of his throat.

“Your ready for it? You think ya can take it now…sweetheart?”

You nod once again, frantically pushing your hips desperately onto his member, the slick tip now prodding at your pucker.

Immediately Billy pressed his front into your back, his chest settling perfectly into your arch, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear earning a shiver out of you.

“Doll, you gotta answer me okay? There’s plenty of others waiting in line-“

You knew he said that to get you to answer, which it did, the jealousy ran through your veins like adrenaline, words bubbling up through your throat.

“God- yes, p-please Bill I need it, need it now”

Your words were enough to cause an affect, Billy pushed his way into you, the tight ring of muscle wrapping around his aching tip perfectly.

You both let out generous groans, the slick helping Billy continue to make his way in, pushing inch by inch forwards into the velvety goodness you occupied.

“You look so pretty honey, fucking yourself on my cock” a small chuckle came out of his lips as he pushed forwards, his other hand still gripping your hips tightly to hold you still as he rocks steadily into you.

His fingers dug into the skin of your hips, his thighs clapping against yours with each thrust, your moans were much louder, eager almost, his cock pushing in deep and filling you up perfectly, deliciously.

His hands moved gently from his bruising grip on your hips, lower to the globes of your ass, squeezing the dough like texture, pushing them together which only enforced the pleasure he was gaining from you.

“Billy,” you whined, the tension that had been building in your tummy quickly building. Once his tip brushed over the bundle of nerves you so desperately needed, your back arched even more up into his cock.

“That’s it Angel- fuc- look at you go” skin on skin was all you could feel and hear, you couldn’t really muster up any words in the current moment, you felt dizzy, drunk almost, drunk on Billy, on his cock.

You collapse into the sheets, your arch failing as you falter, feeling Billy pulse inside of you at the sudden movement.

“I-I can’t”

Billy shook his head, a single hand of his reaching up to scrunch in your hair, pulling you back into your arch, practically holding you up.

“Yes you can, come on Doll your so close”

You nod, beginning up your pace again, this time meeting him half way, his balls tapping your own with each thrust of his hips. The new angle had the coil in your stomach thinning.

“Mghfmffhh”

Your estranged mumbled moans force a smirk on to Billy’s face, his tongue licking over his lips once he pressed himself forwards, holding all of his inches inside of you, fully sheathed, pressing on your prostate.

“You gonna come for me?” He guessed, knowing your body better than you did, and you slowly nodded, drool leaking from the side of your mouth creating a damp patch on the white cotton below.

“Yeah? Gonna cum around my cock?”

The hand in your hair dropped between your legs, fingers furiously jerking your semi-hard cock back and forth, you choke on a scream as your eyes slam shut, your cock twitching in his hand as your orgasm washes over you, Billy still fully sheathed inside.

You breathlessly whispered his name, a second later he pulled away from you, his slick coated cock pulling itself out with an audible pop sending the older male over the edge, his hand pointing his cock to your ass, his cum decorating your perfect mounds deliciously.

He immediately fell into you, a bliss-like state controlling your minds, leaving you both sweaty and panting, panting for air, for the same air.

“Your so beautiful like this…” Billy mumbled against your shoulder, his lips kissing a line upwards towards your jaw.

You melt into him, the window relieving some of the sweat that covered you both, but you had no worries, especially when you were underneath Billy, lips slowly rolling against one another into a kiss…

[libraryofloveletters]

Crazy In Love

Eddie Diaz x Reader 

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Eddie can’t do math or cook for shit, friends to lovers :))) 

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: takes place after Stuck (2x04) when abuela breaks her hip. Also, this was supposed to be for 911 readers week but I didn’t finish it in time sooooo just take it now instead :) 

-----

The phone rang, your arm stretched over the pile of dishes on the counter. “Hello ?” you answered, putting it on speaker and setting it back down.

Eddie’s voice rang through the speaker, echoing through the empty apartment. “Hey, can you do me a huge favour ?”

“If you're gonna ask me to bake a cake, I have literally no time, honey. I’m really sorry but I need to finish this order-” Eddie sounds like he cut himself off before saying something as you explain that you’re busy.

“Eds? Are you there ?”

“Yeah- yeah, I'm here.”

“What’s up?”

“You’re busy, I don’t want to bother you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes because no matter how busy you are, you always made time for Eddie. He sighs heavily, so much so that you can hear him thinking.

“Eddie, what is it ?”

“Can you pick Chris up from school ? I know you’re busy but if you can’t, that’s ok-” “of course I can pick him up!”

The sound of a breath being released before a feminine voice called out for him. “I gotta go, Abuela needs me but he’s off at 3. Thank you, y/n - really.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Eddie.”

He mumbles something before hanging up. You glance at the phone screen - 2:24. You had enough time to change and shove the dishes in the dishwasher before having to head out so you did just that.

You had picked up Christopher from school a million times. His teachers knew you well enough that Eddie no longer had to call and let them know he wouldn't be picking up Chris but that you would be.

Standing outside of the school, the PTA parents were gossiping within their little bubbles, talking about the other members behind their backs but smiling in their faces. You bit back a smile before walking towards the gate. The students were lined up by the door, waiting for the bell to ring.

The moment it does, the students come running out with their teacher a few feet behind them in an attempt to keep up with them. One by one, their teacher lets them out, Christopher finally spotting you and this teacher waves hello as they open the gate for him.

“Y/n! What are you doing here!?” his little face lights up with a smile.

“Your dad asked me to come get you, he's with abuela.”

The two of you start making your way back to the car when Christopher asks you what his plans for the afternoon were. Soon you realized that Eddie didn’t give you any explanation as to where to go or what to do after you picked up Chris.

“How does ice cream and then abuela’s sound ?”

“Can we take some for her and dad too?” Chris asks as you help him into the car.

“Of course we can.”

----

Christopher was lugging his backpack over his shoulder when you knocked on the door, two containers of ice cream in hand. Eddie opens the door, grinning at his son whose face matches his father’s.

“Hey kiddo” Eddie kneels, wrapping the boy in his arms. Christopher’s arms extend around his father, “hi dad, we bought ice cream” he points out the obvious.

Eddie glances up at you, the ice cream tucked under your arm - he flashes you a smile.

“Oh yeah?” he lets go of Chris. “Did you have any?”

“No,” he shakes his head, his hair flopping around as he snickers. Eddie pushes the hair from Christopher’s forehead. “So what’s this on your face?” swiping his finger on Chris’s chin, a little smudge of brown on his finger from the leftover ice cream.

“Paint.” Chris smiles at his father sweetly.

“Uh huh, paint.” he chuckles, stepping aside for Chris to come further into the house.

“Thanks for picking him up,” he leans on the door frame, stretching and his arms lift above his head as he does. You can’t help but glance down at the area of exposed skin - eyes glued to the man in front of you.

“Y/n?” Eddie’s waving his hands in front of you, eyes raising from their previous spot to his face - the blush was creeping up on your face whilst that stupid smug smile of his was on his.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Stepping in, you take in the house. You had been by Isabel’s once or twice before but you had never come inside the house. The walls were painted a warm yellow colour, the furniture was spotless as was the rest of the house. Isabel sat on the couch with Chris beside her as he told her about his day at school.

“Chris, did you wash your hands?” Eddie calls, the door shutting. Chris doesn't answer which is an answer in itself. “Go now, please.” Eddie’s voice sounds closer, glancing behind you to see him beside you.

Chris grumbles but gets up, Isabel turns her attention to you and Eddie. “How are you feeling ?”

“As well as someone can with a broken hip” she gives you a smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, you gave Eddie a scare” giving him a playful shove. “We got ice cream, vanilla and toffee. Chris said toffee was your favourite” handing her the small container. “It is, thank you. That’s so sweet of you.” she smiles, pulling the top off.

“No need to thank me, it was Christopher’s idea.”

“Ah, well I'll thank him when he comes back out.” she says smiling, “Eddie, a spoon please ?” she glances at the man beside you. He hums, stepping away for a moment to get her a spoon.

Chris comes running back in after washing his hands. “Dad! Can we stay over? Abuela said it was okay” he’s beside his father now, looking up at him with his big brown eyes that were practically begging him to let him.

You, Eddie and Isabel all knew that Christopher had his father wrapped around his finger and would ultimately get his way but Eddie had to give him a fatherly response and say no, they should go home. Isabel doesn't usually butt in but this time she did.

“Mijo, stay. I could use the company.” She says, patting the spot beside her and Chris makes his way over to sit beside her.

Eddie sighs, if he had a soft spot, it was for the two people on the couch. “Fine, just tonight then.”

Isabel smiles, satisfied with his answer. “y/n, stay for dinner darling. Eddie’s cooking” “Yea- who said I was cooking?” Eddie butts in, shocked at the assumption. “I did, mijo. Don’t worry, I'll tell you what to do.”

“Buddy, why don’t you finish up your homework so you can relax for the rest of the night ?” Eddie calls out to Chris, who again groans. He loved school but despised homework - as did most kids.

“I have math, I need help so I can’t do it because you’re busy.” Chris says plainly, thinking his statement will get him out of his math work because Eddie can’t do math for shit.

“I can help.”

“Y/n, you don't have to-” “no, it’s fine. C’mon kiddo” Chris grumbles, making his way to the dining room table, the two of you taking a seat when Eddie helps Isabel up and to the kitchen.

You can hear them talking and her telling Eddie to cut things a certain way or not to put too much of something into the pot. It only took 20 minutes for Christopher to finish his math homework, he brought it into the kitchen to show his dad.

“Look! I’m done! Math’s easy when you understand it.” that last bit was a little dig at Eddie and his math skills. You ruffled Chris’s hair as he walked back into the living room.

“Did he just-” Eddie watches his son make his way to the couch.

You hold back a laugh,“Mhm hm” Eddie shakes his head, chuckling. “Here, taste this.” he picks up some sauce from the pot, holding the spoon over his hand before handing it to Isabel.

Her face twists when she tastes it, “Eddie, I love you honey, but that’s terrible.” you press your lips together, holding back a chuckle.

“What?” he pouts, sighing. “I swear it tasted fine ten minutes ago.” sitting beside Isabel in defeat.

You pick up another spoon and taste some for yourself, your expression matching Isabel’s from moments ago. Eddie had remembered to put everything in, except the paprika and the salt, you add a bit of both and stir the pot. Taking the spoon from Eddie, you pick up a bit of the sauce and hand it back to Isabel.

“Ah, that’s better.” she hums, making you smile as she hands you back the spoon. Eddie sighs, letting you know that he was still there.

"Why don’t you go see if Christopher wants to watch something or if he wants a snack ?” his grandmother nudged him, a signal for him to leave the kitchen. “y/n can take over for you”

“Abuela, you can’t invite them in and have them work for their dinner.” he says, making her laugh.

“It’s okay Eds,” waving him off. “I don’t mind, really.”

Eddie left the kitchen and made his way over to the couch, listening as Chris told him about his day. He glanced back to see if everything was alright but he noticed that the two of you were laughing as you told Isabel something. Eddie would be lying if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

He stopped seeking his parents’ approval of who he dated- for a matter of fact, it went out the window when he brought Shannon home the first time but seeing you with an abuela made him so warm and happy, he couldn't help but smile.

---

Eddie’s hand slipped onto your hip, his chest against your back. “Can I help you, Eddie?” you mumble, your eyes on the dishes in front of you.

He hums, hands coming around and arms now wrapped around your waist. Eddie felt your wet hands pull his hands off of you, “Isabel and Chris are in the other room, stop it”

His head tilted, that innocent look on his face, “stop what?”

“Eddie,” turning to face him, “shh I don’t want to hear it” he cuts you off, hands back on your waist.

“I don’t think I've ever loved someone the way I love you.” His words come off so sweet and loving but hit you like a ton of bricks.

You loved Eddie, more than anything but you had never actually told him nor did you ever feel the need too. It was always implied that as friends, you loved and cared about each other.

Eddie always knew he loved you, there was never any question about that but something about you, seeing you with an abuela and how great you were with Christopher (as you always were) just pushed him over the edge.

He had to tell you.

“Y/n, you know I love you- and before you say anything, I know I’ve never actually said it to you but I didn’t feel like I had too, you knew I did.”

“I know.”

“Yeah.”

You were still gathering your thoughts, trying to come up with the words to tell him you loved him too but Eddie’s expression changed. His brows furrowed, eyes studying your face - the worry had set in.

What if you didn’t feel the same way ? God, he’d feel so stupid if he embarrassed himself like that.

The years of friendship were enough for you to realize how he was feeling. You were lacking words and you know what they say, actions speak louder than words.

Your hands reach for his face, now cupping his cheeks. Your lips meet his, he pulls you closer to him- if that's even possible. It was a few moments before you pulled away.

Eddie smiles lovingly at you and you’re sure you have the same expression plastered on your face. “Um- I think that says it.” you hum, smiling at him.

“Doesn't mean you can't say it,” he pokes fun at you, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Eddie?”

“Y/n,”

“I love you.”

---- 

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @spencersendgame @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21​ @fernandaweasley2​ @yikesyikesyikes95​ @hotchsdarling​ @duhbar1975​ @wowitsel​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @jillys-feral-fandoms​ @alexandrianicolegrey-oc​ @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner​ @captainxholmes​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @aficwhore​

[shootingstarwritings]

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way. 

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

[tetralea]

Dirty words

Pairing: dom!Tom Holland x reader

Word Count: 1.9K+

Warning: dom-sub dynamics, dirty talking, cum in panties, cum play, oral male recieving, pussy job, face fucking (not too hardcore), pet names like cock slut, orgasm denial

Summary:  Tom is in a zoom call, and you tiptoe around him, never showing up or making any noises. Except when you get to the kitchen wanting to cook something you drop your ingredients and swear loudly.

A/N: So, I dropped stuff in the kitchen swearing loudly while my love was in a call, and I’m always horny, so there we go. 

It was almost lunch time, and you were waiting for your boyfriend to finish his video call before starting to eat. If you were honest, you were hoping it would be one of those lunch breaks, when he had a bit more time between the lectures and he would pay more attention to you. And what you needed.  

Tiptoeing around the room, always behind his desk, was an everyday thing and the both of you got used to it by now. Walking out to the kitchen a few minutes before the end of his call seemed like a nice idea, to prep the food for yourselves.  

Everything was almost ready when you grabbed the container for your pasta, the thin foil tearing in your hand, and the heavy package fell back to the counter. You tried to catch it, seeing everything that was happening in slow motion, but the pasta spilled on the ground, nonetheless. The noise was followed by long cursing from your side and an upset huff.  

It just hit you a second later that Tom was in the call, but it was already too late. He called out for you, muting himself in the process. Hoping he was just wondering if everything was alright, you poked your head in the room, seeing him sitting at his desk staring at you with raised brows, an unamused look on his face.  

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed with an anxious expression, fidgeting with your hands nervously.  

‘Pants off, darling.’ Tom bit his lips with a challenging smirk, trying to fight back a huge smile, his eyes giving your body a lustful once over.

He saw all of your hopes that you will get away with it disappearing as you stepped in the room, letting him watch you as you dropped your shorts to the ground.  

‘Good girl.’ The small purr and the proud smile on his lips gave you some hope for the later part of the day. When he returned his attention to the screen you walked out, back to the kitchen starting to gater the dry pasta from the ground.  

It didn’t take long, and you heard Tom saying goodbye to whoever he had a call with and standing up from his chair. At the same time, you were very aware of the wetness forming on your folds, eager anticipation bubbling in your chest and you pussy being covered only by the thin material of your panties.  

‘So, what happened?’ Tom crouched next to you, his fingers quickly picking up the small pieces from the ground.  

‘I dropped this sh-thing.’ Changing your wording looked like a smart idea.

‘Darling I feel like you have a very very dirty mouth today.’ Tom tutted cleaning up the last crumbs of the pasta with you.  

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, it just fell. And it was supposed to be for lunch.’ The explanation was brief and honest, finished with a regretful sigh.  

‘I know. It’s ok, love.’ Tom reassured you and pulled you up from the ground. He pulled you to a hug and kissed your temple gently. ‘But I just can’t leave you running around with a dirty mouth like this.’ He whispered and gently pulled you when he leant against the counter.  

‘Yes, Sir.’  

‘Don’t worry, I won’t be too rough.’ He reassured you, looking you in the eye. ‘I’ll tell you what will happen.’ An eager nod from your end made him chuckle. ‘First, I'll fuck that dirty mouth of yours, it might help to clean it a bit. That will get you nice and wet for me, maybe soaking your panties a little too, so when I tell you to stop, you will get up and grind that pretty pussy on my cock, teasing yourself, but not coming of course.’

With a pleading look you let him gently push you down to kneel in front of him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting. Tom undid his pants and pushed them down a little pulling his cock free, giving himself a few strokes.  

‘So eager.’ He commented when he saw you swallowing hard and licking your lips, waiting for his soft tip to touch your lips. ‘Open up.’ Tom’s voice was clear but gentle. His fingers were holding his cock by the base of his hard on. You did as he told, sticking your tongue out, earning a smug smile. He shifted a little to get closer and tapped his cock on your wet tongue, moving it around, coating his velvety tip with your spit. He took his time testing your limits seeing if you could hold still and not giving into the temptation to lick him without permission.  

The wet sounds filled the room when he gave small, gentle slaps on your tongue with his cock. ‘Now, close it, and start sucking.’ He guided you, still holding his own cock as a clear sign to keep your hands to yourself.  

The previous noises were switched to the wet sounds of you sucking his cock, lips stretching around his thick shaft, head bobbing up and down to your own rhythm. His groans and deep sighs were a clear sign that you were making him feel good. ‘Stay still.’ He warned when you started to squirm involuntarily, feeling your slit getting soaked, starting to soak into your panties.  

Sucking and swallowing around him got easier and easier when your brain got slowly clouded with lust and you were beyond aroused. Your breaths come out in big puffs though your nose as you prepared yourself to push further and let him slide into your throat. Tom cursed and you swallowed around him causing you to gag slightly. He hissed at the feeling and his hand let go of his cock, softly sliding forward to hold your head. ‘Now stay still, baby girl, and look at me, I’ll fuck that dirty mouth of yours.’  

Turning your eyes up to look at him was more difficult as you thought, he started to rock your head back and forward gently first, moving you until only his tip was between your lips then he pushed back not forcing you to deepthroat him yet. ‘So good for me, shit.’

He held your head and started to really fuck your mouth then, moving in and out, making you gag around him, your saliva coating him generously, the rest dripping down on your chin. His pace was still not too fast, you could keep your throat relaxed enough for him, even if the slight burn starting in your jaw made it more and more difficult.  

‘Look at you, fuck.’ Tom cursed, his muscles flexing as he pushed himself until he hit the back of your throat, keeping you there until the last second you could keep it together without starting to gag and gasp for air. ‘Letting me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours, being a good little cock slut for me.’ Seemingly he got lost in it more and more his words slurring and breaking with soft moans, his peace picking up. ‘Gotta fuck all the bad words out of it.’ Now your jaw was properly burning, whole body trembling from the pent-up need and anticipation for him to finally touch you. ‘So good, darling, so good for me.’  

You moaned and whimpered around him, closing your eyes, squeezing them, Tom testing your limits. It only lasted for a few seconds before he slowed down and eventually stopped. ‘Good girl, took it all so good.’ Tom praised you, his words causing a shiver going down on your spine and settling between your legs, making you throb and clench around nothing.  

‘Open your mouth baby girl.’ Tom pulled his cock between your spent lips, and let you take your time to find that movement. ‘Tongue out.’ You did as he asked, and he placed his cock back to your tongue. ‘I could cum just like this, spilling onto your tongue and pretty tits, but I know you’ll have a call soon, and I want you to sit in front of your camera, like a good girl, with my cum in your panties.’  

Your eyes went wide the sound of your shock escaped your open mouth without any barrier. By the time you were over the realisation of what was coming he already had you standing, your back against the counter, your panties pushed down on your thighs.  

Tom looked at you, his eyebrows high, a teasing but proud look in his eyes. ‘What is this darling?’ He asked, his fingers touching the wet spot on your panties breaking the glistering line of arousal which connected it with your pussy.  

‘I need you so bad.’ You whispered as a weak explanation, head turning a little to hide how flustered you got.  

‘So easy for me.’ Tom stepped closer, gliding his cock between your folds without a warning. Your body jumped to the sudden sensation a loud moan falling from your lips. ‘So easy.’ Tom repeated himself as he started to fuck your folds, your arousal covering his cock in a second, making the sensation almost unbearably intense. ‘Look at you, just standing here, letting me do whatever.’ He leant down placing a gentle kiss to your sore lips. ‘Use your hands, love, keep my cock pressed to your needy cunt.’  

With a weak whimper you did so, a shudder running through you, as the friction just got so much stronger, just as you needed it. He was grinding into your pussy, his tip eagerly pushing into your entrance, but never really inside of you, testing your limits, making your tremble and whimper continuously. ‘So easy of me as always. I could slid into that empty little cunt and fuck you and you’d thank me for it, huh?’ Tom’s voice was husky, seducing you even more, having you completely at his mercy.  

‘Yes, Sir.’ The weak cry coming from you let him know just how desperate he got you already.  

‘Good girl.’

Tom kept moving, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less and less controlled, giving you more and more, his hot tip leaking, mixing his wetness with yours when he bumped into your clit making you see stars. Just before you could have gotten close he grabbed your hand and moved it from the way, guiding his tip inside of you with heavy pants, and the feeling of relief almost washed over you, but he stopped. With only his blunt cock head stretching you out he was franticly jerking of, moaning and praising you before he come. His hot, heavy load was shooting into you, filling up your pulsing, empty cunt.  

‘Fuck.’ Tom’s body finally relaxed, his hand gently milking his own cock, to empty himself completely inside of you. He pulled your panties back and pulled out, drops of his white release already painting your panties. ‘Look at you, wearing my cum in these pretty panties.’ You felt like you wanted to scream or cry with frustration in the state he left you, but a satisfied sigh betrayed you when he pulled the ruined fabric up and you felt the warm liquid spreading around your fucked out pussy. ‘Now, close your legs like a good girl, and if you behave, I’ll reward you tonight.’ Tom whispered onto your lips as he kissed you lazily, pulling your close, drawing shooting circles onto your hips.  

‘Thank you, Sir.’

Tagging:

@terrifictomholland, @we--are---not--afraid, @itstaskeen, @spideybrie,  @thegirlintheswivelchair @greenorangevioletgrass @squirrelsarescaryman, @duskholland, @sinisterspidey, @tomsrebeleyebrow, @hazofmyheart @worldoftom, @augustholland , @dreamsarecloserwithyou @frenchfrostpudding

[mypoisonedvine]

the martyrdom of st. valentine (and other romantic stories) || dark!Bucky & dark!(stepbrother?)Steve x reader

summary: you wanted to surprise your boyfriend on valentine's day, but he and your foster brother have a surprise of their own.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (heavy dubcon to the point of pretty much noncon), kinda stepcest (as per summary, steve is the reader's foster brother), bondage, a lil touch of degradation

2/14 to-do list

get waxed

get Steve out of the apartment

pick up chocolate-covered strawberries from bakery on 6th

blindfold and handcuff myself to the bed

be waiting for Bucky naked when he gets here

You sighed as you looked down at the paper, crossing the first and third items off the list. The second was going to be a bit harder, unfortunately; your foster brother had a habit of hanging around and cramping your style as much as he could manage. He felt like a real brother in that way… okay, maybe he felt like a real brother in most ways, a consequence of knowing him for most of your life, but he was definitely not your real brother. You remembered that each time you caught yourself staring too long when he was shirtless, or returning from the gym all veiny and glistening with sweat.

But you also remembered that he was still the closest thing to a real brother you'd ever had, and you scolded yourself internally for ever acting differently.

It didn’t matter now— you had Bucky, and he was the most amazing guy you’d ever met.  No, Steve was definitely not happy that introducing his best friend to his sister led to a relationship forming, but he couldn’t stop either of you in spite of his efforts to keep you apart.

Bucky had once expressed his suspicions that it was at least in part due to jealousy, if subliminal.  But you denied it unilaterally— he’s basically my brother, you told him, though it was more of a reminder to yourself than anything.

Perverted concerns about Steve’s motivations aside, Bucky was a great guy.  A bit of a sweet-talker for sure, and not exactly known for his ability to keep a long-term, serious relationship, but he was adamant that you had changed that and for once you were beginning to believe him.  You’d said from the beginning that you didn’t need this to be the proverbial ‘it’ for either of you but that you didn’t do hook-ups— especially with your brother’s friends, and extra especially with your brother’s closest and longest friend.  It only took a brief speech and two shots to convince you, now six months later and you were still going strong.

Days like this made you so happy you’d given in to his advances.  But they also made you regret giving in to Steve’s idea to be roommates in college.

“Stevie!” you yelped as he walked in, stuffing the to-do list into your backpocket.  “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“I doubt that,” he scoffed.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, I bet you want to see Bucky.  He’s coming over, right?  And you want me to fuck off so my best friend can go to town on my sister?”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  “I wanted to see you because I have a gift for you.”

“... you do?”  His eyebrow raised and you hoped your smirk looked just as smug as it felt.

“So do you want your gift or do you want to be an asshole?”

“Do I have to pick just one?” he joked.

“Just come over here,” you instructed, waving him closer.  He seemed hesitant, but eventually did as you’d asked.  From your other back pocket you pulled out two tickets.

“Rangers, center ice,” you beamed.  “For you and a date.”

“And this isn’t just an excuse to get me out of the house?”

“No, it’s a thank you for being such a great brother.”

“So, if I wanted to take Bucky…” he trailed off, already calling your bluff as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s just sad.  There’s no reason you can’t find a girl to take— god knows Bucky hasn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since the fucking eighth grade.  And you’re just as cute as he is!”

“Well, if you could alert the rest of the female population to that, that would be great,” he scoffed, “but until then I’ll take the tickets,” he decided as he took them from your hand.  “A Rangers game might be the only thing distracting enough to keep me from thinking about what you and Buck are gonna do while I’m gone.”

You were hoping for a little more enthusiasm considering how much the tickets had cost you, but at least he was going to go and give you the apartment to yourself for the evening.  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

After stripping and sprinkling rose petals on the comforter, you'd actually found a YouTube tutorial on how to blindfold and handcuff oneself, and it was a little odd that enough people had this problem to merit its existence but it was still very helpful: turns out the secret is to blindfold yourself first but keep it folded up with one eye able to see until you do the handcuffs, then use your arm to slide the blindfold down into place.

It was tricky, and a little bit extra awkward while naked, but you figured it out and smiled proudly to yourself as you completed your last task on your to-do list.

Now, for likely the most difficult task of all: waiting in darkness and silence for Bucky to arrive.

Apparently it is, in fact, possible to be slightly bored yet titillated.  The thought of what Bucky would do to you when he got here was exciting, but it only made you crave his presence more which enhanced your quiet loneliness.  It wasn't like you could read a book or listen to music to kill the time, so you settled for humming to yourself as you waited.

Don't go changing, to try and please me, something something before, hmmm

I just want someone that I can talk to, I want you just the way you are...

But that grew tiresome quickly and you resorted instead to planning exacty how angry you would be if Bucky was late when you were waiting for him in such a compromising and inconvenient state.  For a moment you imagined he'd really gone to the Rangers game with Steve and became briefly livid over a hypothetical situation.

The crackling roar of Bucky's motorcycle outside was distant but undeniable, making you smile in anticipation.  You worried for a moment that you might have locked the top lock of the front door by instinct, but thankfully Bucky and to make it inside alright since next thing you knew, your bedroom door was opening.

The rattle of the doorknob made your breath catch; you opened your legs slowly in time with the quiet creak of the hinges.  “I’ve been waiting for you…” you purred.

“Hi there, babydoll,” Bucky’s voice answered back huskily.

The heavy steps of his boots made it clear he hadn't taken his shoes off at the door, a habit that had driven you crazy since he was your annoying brother's also-annoying best friend.  Was this the real reason he'd chained you up, so he could freely irritate you?  What next, was he gonna put a cold drink on your nightstand without a coaster?

"You really went all out for me, sweetheart," he noticed, his voice closer than you'd expected; it was fun to not know exactly where he would be, it made you squirm under the gaze you couldn't see but could somehow feel.

How weight joining yours on the bed was a good sign to his location though, along with his hands sliding up your legs.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he cooed pridefully as he dove in suddenly and licked a thick stripe through your folds.

“Fuck,” you shivered, tugging on your handcuffs unintentionally.

“Feel good, babygirl?” he pressed, chuckling when you nodded.  “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He didn’t get back to it right away, the weight on the bed shifting slightly, and it made you fear that he planned to make you beg more before eating you out— but finally his lips returned to you as his tongue explored your sex.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your back arching of its own volition.  It was a little different than he normally did this— less confident and measured, more cautious yet hungry.  Typically he teased you a lot more, knowing exactly the spots that drove you wild and intentionally leaving them understimulated until you begged him to let you come, but now as soon as he found them he was targeting them— perhaps a rare show of mercy from the guy who was normally happy to leave you on edge for hours.

You could feel his moans vibrating into you when he slid his tongue inside and against your channel; it instantly made your back arch as the handcuffs quietly clinked above your head.

He stopped just a little too soon, pulling your hips up until the back of your legs were resting on the front of his.  Being manhandled by him turned you on enough to make you bite your lip.

"Fuck, put your cock in me, wanna feel you," you moaned your plea as you heard the rustling of clothes; your mouth watered when you imagined Bucky stripping, with that insane body of his.

His thick head glided over your entrance and you were preparing to beg some more when he suddenly pushed in, giving you what you wanted so much faster than normal.  Not that you were complaining!

He was also much quieter than normal, which you were actually willing to complain about but didn't.

"Oh god," you groaned at the feeling of him stretching you open, gasping when his cock brushed right over your spot— it made your body jolt each time he pulled back and hit it again.

"Feels good, huh?" Bucky asked and you nodded happily.

"So good," you whimpered.

"I wasn't asking you."

Before you could question it, Bucky’s calloused fingers pulled up your blindfold— but it was Steve’s face above you, Steve’s body on top of yours… and, much to your horror, Steve’s cock inside you.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, trying to squirm away as you tugged at the cuffs but failing completely.

“Fuck,” Steve winced, “you get really tight when you struggle like that.”

“Don’t act so surprised, babygirl,” Bucky cooed playfully as you turned to stare at his devilish grin.  “You wanted this… you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.  And Stevie here always wanted this, too, and aren’t you so glad he told me?”

You shuddered as Steve continued thrusting, pushing his cock so deep it made you feel a little nauseous.  "Steve, you've gotta stop," you begged.   "If you love me, you'll stop."

"That's the thing: I love you too much to stop."

He moved faster, paying no mind to your confused whimpers, holding your hips tight as his head fell back slightly which brandished his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple.

"There's no point in pretending," Bucky reminded you coldly, watching the whole thing with crossed arms and an expression that almost looked… bemused?  "You already showed us how much you love it, so don't waste your time acting so disgusted now."

You regretted more than anything saying that it felt good, literally asking him to fuck you before you really understood what you were asking for: you thought it was Bucky, yes, but that didn't mean it was an act.  It did feel good, and that must've been obvious to everyone since you were so wet already.  You could hear it each time he pushed all the way in, that telltale squelching noise that was somehow disgusting and hot all at once.

Steve wasn't so quiet now that he didn't have to be.  "God, you feel so good," he whispered, grabbing the backs of your knees and pushing your legs up.  It forced his cock even deeper and you choked on your own suppressed moan.

You heard Bucky opening his belt, and turned your head to see him pull out and stroke his cock while he watched Steve fuck you.  It was hard to imagine what he was getting out of this; he never seemed like the sharing type, if anything he sometimes became too possessive.  But clearly there was a lot about him and Steve that you didn't understand.

"Play with her tits," Bucky instructed, voice a bit deeper as he pleasured himself, "makes her come so fast."

Steve dropped your legs to rest on his shoulders so his hands were free to grope your chest, thick fingers twisting and tugging your nipples.  Annoyingly, Bucky knew his way around your body well by now, and so it was difficult to pretend that Steve's touches weren't sending shocks of pleasure right down your spine and to your core.

You had been biting on your lip so hard to stay quiet that you feared you would break the skin, until Bucky leaned down and gave you a little slap on the cheek— not very hard, but enough to make you gasp which in turn released the moan you'd been holding back.

"There it is, honey, don't be quiet for my benefit," Bucky encouraged.  "It's okay to like it, I'm not gonna be jealous."

As if that was your concern; angering your boyfriend by enjoying being fucked by your foster brother.  

"You really overestimate my interest in your— fuck— in your feelings," you panted as you glared up at Bucky where he was grinning down at you with a look that almost indicated pride.

"You're gonna come, aren't you?" he asked, ignoring your resistance entirely.  Whatever chance you had at pretending he was wrong was lost when, just for a moment, your eyes widened at his question.  "Yeah, thought so.  I can tell by that dumb look on your face.  I'm close too, babydoll, betcha wanna taste it…"

His free hand roughly held your jaw open as he stroked himself desperately, his weak groan coinciding with the moment you felt his hot seed spray into your open mouth, his taste familiar despite the entirely surreal circumstances.

It was purely coincidence that you came in that moment, your walls bearing down on Steve while you tried to stay silent so you wouldn't choke on Bucky's spend.

"Fuck, that's it, gonna fill this pretty mouth— god yes, you'd better swallow it all," he sighed as come painted your tongue and the inside of your cheek.  Maybe it was more than normal or maybe it was just that he was tightening his hand around the head of his cock to get every drop in your mouth, but either way it was enough to give you quite a mouthful to swallow, which you did without much question due to force of habit.

"M’close too," Steve warned as Bucky stepped back, "I'm gonna come."

“No, Steve, not inside,” you whimpered, hearing the way your voice had weakened after your orgasm, “you can’t…”

“I can,” he disagreed, “Bucky said so.”

Once again, Bucky's will was more important than your own, and your desperate pulling at the handcuffs was only another reminder of the way you'd guided yourself into his trap.

"Don't," you stammered one more time, but it was hard to focus when he was filling you exactly how you needed, when his thick hands gripping your waist felt just as perfect as you'd secretly imagined so many times… 

Denial is a powerful drug, but so is two orgasms in a row.

"Fuck!" you yelped as you felt a gush of warmth drip from your entrance, even further wetness spurring on Steve's fast and brutal thrusts into you.

"Knew you'd love it," Steve mumbled, growling slightly as he slammed into you.  "Knew you'd take it so well, make a pretty mess all over my cock— fuck I can't wait anymore, gotta fill you up, oh my god... gotta give you my load, honey, you want it?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "Steve, yes, come in me…"

He didn't need much more encouragement than that, groaning loudly as you felt his cock flex and pulse against your walls, his release overwhelmingly hot inside you.

You sighed in time with Steve as he finally stilled, and it was hard to know where to look when Steve and Bucky were both staring down at you.  “What happens now?” you found yourself asking, not so much a literal question about the next task but more about what the three of you were going to do with all the unfortunate truths that had come to light in less than half an hour.

“What happens now is I take my turn,” Bucky informed you sternly, pushing Steve aside.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gonna fuck my girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”

[obxsummer]

By Your Side // John B Routledge

john b routledge x reader

warnings: physical violence, angst

part of #obx2celebration

masterlist

ask me anything

a/n: y'all please keep in mind this is fictional. i know the process of what happens in here would never happen in real life but that's the fun of it all :)

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers

--

summary: seeing your boyfriend in prison was never easy, but seeing him in the medical wing leads to a heart to heart in each other's arms.

The weight in your chest was getting heavier and heavier with each breath you took. It felt like you would never catch a break, never be able to breathe fully ever again. Ever since you and John B returned to the Outer Banks, it felt like it was one thing after another that just caused more and more trouble for the two of you. Nothing was worse than the look on his face when the cops finally cornered you and your friends. You had gripped John B’s hand as long as possible before he was torn from your grasp.

The whole day seemed like a blur then, but the soreness in your throat was still there from where you screamed at Shoupe and Deputy Thomas for how they handled John B. It was unforgivable, burned in your mind on repeat as you watched the scene over and over again with your heart cracking a little more each time. Regardless of the fact that your boyfriend was being arrested and charged for something he had nothing to do with, you couldn’t get over the fact that he was being shoved around and literally beaten by the people who were supposed to protect and help you. Needless to say, anytime you saw Shoupe or Deputy Thomas, your glare was enough to make them wish they hadn’t stepped foot in your path.

You were a mess without John B. Normally, the two of you were attached at the hip, but being without him was never this hard. The lingering thought in the back of your head kept reminding you that he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t home. Every minute he spent in prison was a minute you didn’t sleep because you were so worried.

Kie had done her best to try to console you. JJ had spewed crazy plans that only made you more upset because you knew none of them would work and John B wasn’t getting out unless you exposed Ward. Pope was silent, lurking in the shadows at the loss of his best friend. He clung to Kie in hopes that they would all figure something out soon enough.

The Chateau was nowhere near as comforting, even with all of your friends scattered across the house at every second of the day. You had visited John B each chance you had just to reassure yourself that he wasn’t gone completely. You would do anything to be in his arms, to hold him and just tell him everything would be okay.

Walking through the doors of the county jail, you moved without words to set all of your stuff on the counter that you couldn’t bring through. The lady behind the desk, Beth, was the only saving grace you had found in the chaos of this mess. She was the only one to treat you respectfully when it came to anything revolving John B. Although she never outwardly stated it, she believed your story, and that meant more to you than she would ever know.

“Hi, Y/N,” She greeted with a small smile. You returned the gesture and accepted the visitor lanyard she stretched out to you. Walking through the metal detector, you followed her back through the hallways. You had slowly gotten used to the cursing and yelling that followed your arrival. Beth was the Director of Visitor Safety throughout the building and in the short time you had known her, she had pulled many strings in regards to you and John B. Within the first two days, she had realized how uncomfortable it was for the two of you to sit and stare at each other with everyone listening. (And yes, she meant everyone because nobody could be in the presence of a “cop killer” and not be amazed).

Beth led you into her office with a smile and shut the door behind her as she left to grab John B. You were more than grateful for her help with everything. Had Beth not been there the day you walked in with tears streaming down your face from the anxiety and terrifying aura of the whole idea, you didn’t know what you would’ve done.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed more time had gone by than usual, and the sound of yelling that emerged had your heart sinking. You stood up, fingers twisting into the torn bandana fabric around your neck out of habit as you stared at the door in worry.

Beth appeared in the window a second later before opening the barrier and looking at you. “Come with me, hurry.” You followed her without another word, keeping close so you wouldn’t lose her. When she diverged off the normal path, you knew something was really wrong. She led you down a separate hallway, scanning her badge when necessary until big letters above the door told you this was the medical bay.

When you made it past the door frame, your eyes instantly landed on the bright orange jumpsuit that your boyfriend was clad in before noticing the expression of terror on his face as he sat on the bed. “John B!”

Wide brown eyes met your gaze in a split second before John B was shoving the nurse’s hands away to catch you the moment you collided with him. You could hear Shoupe, who had been standing nearby, let out what sounded like a sigh of relief before he mumbled something about filing a report and left the room.

“Are you okay? What the hell happened?” You asked John B once you leaned back, hands still grabbing his uniform as if he would disappear through your fingers.

“This is my daughter, Macy,” Beth introduced the nurse standing close by as she avoided your question. “We’re gonna hang over here for a second. If you guys need anything, let us know.”

The two of you gave Beth an appreciative nod as she stepped aside with her daughter. Turning back to your boyfriend, you caught the bruises covering his neck in the light. “JB…” Tears burned your eyes as your fingers glazed over the marks which made him wince. “What the fuck?”

Your boyfriend pulled you back into his chest, fingers running through your hair as he took a deep breath. Nothing was more calming to him than having you in his arms. Being able to actually hold you, feel your skin on his, was healing to him. “Doesn’t matter,” He mumbled against your hair as he recognized the comforting smell of your shampoo. “So glad you’re here.”

The small sob that escaped your throat didn’t surprise him much. John B wasn’t oblivious to what was going on to you without him around. It broke his heart that he couldn’t be there to talk you through it all. Most of the times you came to visit, you were constantly holding him in some way just to feel his skin on yours.

“What if something worse happens?” You choked out through shaking breaths. “John B, you’re not safe here. This isn’t fair. I’m not losing you in a prison of all places!”

“It’s gonna be fine,” He hummed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna be fine, babe. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“I’m ripping Shoupe a new one,” You grumbled as you reluctantly let go of him to look at the bruises lining his skin. You let out a teary sigh before your boyfriend brushed the salty drops from your face. “I’m getting you out of here. I’m going home and I’m literally… I don’t know, I’ll find something, somehow. I’m not standing here and letting this happen.”

John B couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his face as he kissed you softly. “I don’t want you doing anything besides taking care of yourself, okay? Please. For me.”

You huffed but nodded regardless. “Whatever, JB.”

“I’m serious!” He argued as he placed his hands on your cheeks to get your attention. “Please. There’s no point in tearing yourself apart without me.”

“Fine, then tell me what happened.”

John B rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed before grabbing your hips and situating you to stand between his legs. His fingers squeezed your sides before he spoke up, “I think your dad has someone on the inside, here, and he’s trying to get rid of me and make it look like an accident.”

You blinked for a moment as you processed before you nodded slightly in agreement. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” You struggled with the idea that this was all your father’s fault and the guilt in your chest was getting worse each second. “I’m sorry, JB.”

“It’s not your fault,” He comforted as he squeezed your hips again in reassurance. “Come on, babe. You know that. I would never blame you for any of this. We just gotta get some evidence to end it, okay?”

“Y/N.” Beth’s voice interrupted your thoughts as you looked up at her. “I’m sorry, honey. We gotta go.”

You nodded slowly, hands intertwining with John B’s as you pressed one last kiss to his forehead. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

Your boyfriend smiled slightly. “You know careful’s not in my vocabulary.”

Flicking his cheek gently, you smiled as you stepped out of his grasp to follow Beth back out while Macy attended to your boyfriend. Your thoughts were running, but one thing you knew for certain. You would get John B out of prison if it was the last thing you did.

--

masterlist

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[lightninghikaru]

So I’m new to this fandom but I’ve created a little OC nicknamed Rascal. They go by They/Them atm. They are a human born shifter that was found by the Shaw pack. I wrote a little fic about them being found. I hope you all enjoy. 

“C’mon, you promised!” He whined, following after his friend. Milo lets out an annoyed groan at his response. “We haven’t gone out on a run in a while and the weather’s so nice tonight.” Asher said circling around his friend.

“Yeah, yeah fine just give me a bit ta tell my mate. I don’t want ‘em to think anything is wrong.” Milo said pulling out his phone beginning to text them.

“Oh! Oh! Hey David! You want to join us?” Asher asked seeing their Alpha walk past them with a few papers in hand.

“Pass, I have a lot of paperwork to finish. And I have plans.” David said as he continues passed them, “Try to stay out of sight…”

Milo’s phone pings seeing a message from their sweetheart telling them to have fun. “Alright Ash let’s get going.” He puts his phone away as Asher’s smile brightens.

“Sweet! C’mon, I can use this time to practice phasing my clothes.” Asher said as Milo chuckles,

“Hope you brought an extra pair of clothes just in case. You ripped up the last pair.” Milo teased,

“Not all of us have a mate who is an expert at phasing.” Asher nudges Milo with a wink. “Think you could ask them to give me a hand?”

“Work’s been keeping them pretty busy lately, but I’ll see if they’d be willing to give some pointers.” Milo said.

“Hell yeah!”

They head out towards the forest just outside their work office. Walking down a hidden trail making sure no one was watching the two of them until they were far enough away from any sort of street lights.

Both of them shift phasing their clothes. Asher shakes out while Milo stretches. “Man does it feel good to be back in this form.”

“It’s been way too long.” Milo glances over at Asher secretly happy it was just them going on this run. He didn’t want to have to listen to Christian or the others berate him for his size. “Where do ya wanna go?”

“Remember that clearing we found a while back with that pretty waterfall?” Asher asked.

“Not really, but I’ll let you lead.” Milo said as they both bound further into the beautifully moonlit forest running at full speed.

There was nothing more freeing than being shifted and honing into their animal instincts. Being a shifter was different than any empowered. Sure they could do the same kinds of magic but to become one with nature. Their entire body changing and all of their senses becoming heightened. It was enlightening.

 ---

Asher continued to lead the way almost getting lost in thought just enjoying the feeling of running. The wind through his fur. Taking in the lush scent of the forest pines and the light moisture to the air confirming it was going to rain soon. But there was something else, it was on the tip of his tongue…

He quickly comes to a stop taking Milo off guard almost running into the Wolf who was sticking his nose up into the air. “The hell are you doin?”

“You smell that?” Asher asks as Milo pauses before joining him in taking a deep whiff of the air.

“Yeah… Kind of like, metal?” Milo added taking another sniff before turning towards Asher, “That’s definitely blood...”

“Do you think we should check it out? Just in case it’s a hiker who got lost.” Asher said,

“We can take a look but we gotta stay hidden. Don’t need David getting mad at us for breaking covert.” Milo said as they begin to follow the scent.

“That was one time! And I never shifted back so technically I never broke covert.” Asher argued hearing Milo internally sigh to that comment.

They continue to follow the scent until they make it to a small cave. The strongest smell was coming from there. Both wolves give each other a look. Lowering their heads and bodies to be more stealthy as they approached.

Milo peaks into the cave seeing within was a small furry form curled up. It didn’t take him long to recognize the similar visage. “Looks like it’s just a wolf.” Milo said. Asher leans over Milo to see inside.

“That’s strange… Wait it’s not Tank is it?” Asher said.

“Too small to be Tank. Looks average sized but maybe a little thin.” Milo said.

Asher stares at the wolf as the unmistakable glow of an aura is recognized. “Milo… That’s a Shifter…”

“No shit?” Milo focuses and sees the aura. “If another pack’s tryin to creep into our territory they got another thing commin.” Milo snarls before moving into the cave before Asher could stop him.

The other wolf jumps to their feet startled by the intrusion. Instantly taking a defensive stance and growling. “Milo wait!” Asher said seeing Milo match the others growl.

“You’re messing with the wrong pack if you think you can encroach on our territory.” Milo snarled.

Now that Asher was in the cave with Milo and could better see the Shifter. Light brown fur with small patches of black on their back and tip of their tail. They didn’t respond to Milo’s threat, just continued to growl. He could see the fear in their stance. Ears folded back and low to the ground protecting their back leg that was already injured.

They looked so small compared to him and Milo, only young shifters are that small…

“Milo stop! It’s a kid!” Asher snapped getting Milo’s attention. He stops his threatening demeanor looking at the young wolf shocked. Now seeing just how scraggly they looked. That awkward growing phase teen shifters went through when they started to first shift.  

“Shit! Sorry I jumped the gun there.” He said apologetically. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? Where’s your pack?”

They don’t change their response or their stance. Continuing to keep on the defensive looking at the two of them. Especially Asher and his unnatural size. They were terrified.

“I don’t think they can understand us…” Asher said, quickly shifting back and phasing his clothes. “Hey there bud. Sorry we startled you.” The young wolf’s eyes widen shocked to see the Wolf turn into a man. “Aw man I think I freaked them out more…”

He watches Milo give him a huff. The packs physic link only works while they are in their wolf forms. “Can you shift back so we can talk?” Asher holds his hands up non threateningly. He notices the young wolf’s head subtly tilt but their stance doesn’t change. “Milo, stay shifted in case they try to make a run for it. I’m gonna call David.” Asher said pulling out his phone. He may be Beta, but he definitely felt his Alpha might know a better way to calm them down, especially since they were injured. Milo nodded to his decision. They couldn’t leave them out here like this.  

He dials David, waiting for an answer. “Asher…” David said with an annoyed growl. “You better have a good reason for calling me.”

“Hey bud, Sorry for interrupting your night…”

“What did you do?”

“That’s not fair! Who said we did anything wrong?” Asher whined sounding insulted.  

“Because you never call me this late at night unless you want something…” David said. While they were talking, the young wolf takes a step trying to take advantage of the two being distracted by the call and slip past. But Milo catches on stepping in front of them and letting out a low growl. One they returned.

“Wait…” David said stopping his lecture to Asher hearing the growls. “Who is Milo with?”

“Well if you let me get a word in I could explain!” Asher groaned. “We found a Shifter in our territory that’s not one of ours. It’s a kid and their hurt. They also wont shift back to talk to us. Milo’s making sure they don’t try to run off but I’m not sure what to do.”

“They’re in wolf form and won’t shift back?” David asked,

“Yeah, I shifted in front of them and everything to show we’re not a threat but… David they look terrified…” Asher said looking at the little wolf who was still trying to figure a way passed Milo.

“Where are you?” David asked. Asher could hear the shift of movement on David’s side.

“A cave near that grotto with the waterfall.” Asher said starting to look around the cave. “It looks like they’ve been here for a while.”

“You’re near my place. Do you think you can get them here? I can call Marie and ask if she can meet here.” David asked.

“That’s going to be hard since they won’t shift back…” Asher rubbed the back of his neck.

“You sure it’s a young shifter, right?” David asked,

“Oh yeah, they are super scrappy looking.” Asher said hearing a huff come from the young wolf seemingly insulted by the comment.  

“That means they should still have a scruff… You might have to grab them by the scruff the get them here without harming them further.” David explained,

“Are you sure?” Asher asked feeling unsure,

“You’ve done it with the young ones in our pack before. It’s the same thing. Once you have them by the scruff they won’t be able to fight it. Have Milo call his mate and see if they can meet here. We need to get them back in their human form to heal them and they’re the only one I know who can mute other’s powers.”

“On it! Thanks David. See you soon.” Asher said hanging up the phone and shifting back into wolf form.

“What’d he say?” Milo asked.

“I gotta grab them by the scruff, then we take them to David’s. Can you call your mate and have them meet us there? So we can get them out of their wolf form.” Asher said.

“I’ll help you grab ‘em and call while you get them to David’s.” Milo said as Asher nods. They both turn their attention to the young wolf.

“Alright little rascal, I know you can’t understand us just yet, but you need to come with us.” Asher said as they snap at them trying to step closer. Milo takes the opportunity to startle them making them bump against the back wall as Asher jumps them gently biting into the scruff of their neck making them let out a startled yelp.  

He didn’t bite hard enough to do any harm but the moment he pulled up lifting them by the scruff their limbs curl in and they stay limp in his grip. “Nice job!” Milo congratulated, Only for both of them to feel guilty hearing the fearful whimpers come from them. “Get going, I’ll let David know you’re on your way and then call my mate.”

“See you soon!” Asher said quickly running off. Milo shifts back and takes out his phone. Texting David that Asher was on his way with the kid before calling his mate.

“Hey ya, Sweetheart. Ya weren’t sleeping were ya?” Milo asked,

“No…” He heard their sleepy grumble then the shuffle of papers. Probably fell asleep at their desk again. “What’s up? Everything okay with your run?”

“Not exactly… Can ya meet me at David’s place?” Milo asked,

“Sure, I’ll leave right away.” They said as he hears the sound of quick feet and the jingle of keys.

“One more thing sweetheart… Can you check if the department has any files on missing Shifter kids?”

 ---

David puts his phone away after receiving Milo’s message, opening the large gate they installed on the back of their tall fence overlooking the forest. He glanced over at his mate who was standing at the door looking at him worried. “Angel, go inside.”

“I want to help.” They said as David lets out an annoyed growl.

“Fine, but you need to keep your distance. They could be dangerous.” David said as they nod.

He turns back towards the forest hearing what sounded like whines and whimpers coming from within. He sees Asher’s wolf form carrying the young wolf. The moment they broke out of the trees and into the moonlight he could truly see just how frightened they looked.

Milo wasn’t far behind Asher, catching up to him as they enter the gated backyard. David closes the gate behind them to make sure the young wolf couldn’t escape. “Marie said she was on her way.” David said as Asher gently places the wolf down. He looks at the back leg. The wound was deep and there was a decent amount of blood.

Both Asher and Milo shift back as they see the wolf cower and back up. “Sorry little Rascal, Didn’t mean to scare you but we needed to get you somewhere safe.” Asher tried to reassure them only for them to growl at him.

“My mate’s on their way too.” Milo added glancing over at Angel and giving them a nod. “I also asked them to reach out to the department and see if any shifters are missing a kid.”

“Good thinking,” David nodded, “We’ll need them shifted back to heal that leg.” He notices his mate was staring at the smaller wolf with a sparkle in their eyes.

“Oh my gosh! They’re so cute!” Angel squeaked wanting nothing more than to come closer and comfort the poor wolf.

“Angel…” David growled, the low tone caused the young wolf to flinch to his reaction and growl back taking a defensive stance. “Please wait inside so someone can let Marie and Stealth in,”

“Fine! Only because I can grab them something to eat too!” They said dramatically returning inside. David lets out an annoyed groan pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How do we get them to calm down?” Asher asked looking at the still growling wolf. “I’ve never seen a shifter act this feral…”

“Besides Tank.” Milo interjected making Asher hold back a chuckle.

“If they want to act like a wolf, we’ll treat them like a wolf.” David said,

“You think it’ll work?” Asher asked,

“Only one way to find out…” David said as he phases his clothes before shifting into his wolf form. The young wolf’s eyes go wide seeing that he became an even larger wolf than the one that carried them here. His shoulders alone peaked above the top of the fence. He stared them down with a dominant presence.

Something within told them that the wolf in front of them was not to be messed with. And their survival instincts told them to comply. Ears pinned back as they lay to the ground placing their head down on the ground trying to become as small as possible. David lets out a huff before shifting back.

“Now that I have your attention. My name’s David Shaw. I’m the Alpha of the Shaw pack. You’re safe here, I promise you that. But you have to let us help you, alright?” David said with a soft but firm tone. The only response he gets is them shrinking more away from him.

“Think you scared the piss outta them.” Milo joked.

The back door opens as Marie and Stealth walk out along with Angel who was holding a blanket. “Great timing!” Asher said, “David used his alpha powers to scare them into calming down.”

“That’s not…” David groans, facepalming. “Whatever…” He looks at Milo’s mate. “Can you mute their powers?”

Stealth gives him a nod before stepping closer to the young wolf. They flinch at their approach but glance at David. Waiting to see if he would say anything.

“Wait!” Angel said as they step next to Stealth, draping the blanket over the wolf. “It’s cold out here.” They said patting their head. They look both confused and conflicted at the gentle touch.

“Get over here you little snot.” David reached over and helped Angel back to their feet. Never taking them roughly but still moving them away quickly with a concern to his tone.

“You worry too much.” Angel said.

Stealth kneels down and pulls at the Meridian muting the young wolf’s powers. Forcing them to shift back into a human.

Light olive skin with long ashy light brown hair and light blue eyes stared up towards all of them before looking down at their hands. They looked to be in their teens and extremely malnourished. “Easy little rascal,” Asher said trying to help ease their panicked look.

They tried to get up, but everything felt wrong. Letting out a confused and uncomfortable whine. “David what’s wrong with them?” Angel asked looking worried,

“Hang on.” Stealth quickly places their two fingers on their forehead pulsating magic into them as they slump over unconscious.

“Was that necessary Sweetheart?” Milo asked,

“I only put them to sleep. This way we can get them inside and their leg looked at without any incident.” They said.

“They’re right.” David said moving over and picking up the young kid. “Our priority is making sure their healthy. Then we figure out everything else. Angel?”

“I got it!” They rush over to open the door for him as they all head inside.

“I called the department on my way here, see if any shifter’s were reported missing.” Stealth said as they all give Marie room to begin healing their injured leg.

The wound was deep, a bite from some sort of large animal. “That’s not a wolf bite.” Asher commented. “Definitely bigger…” His phone starts to ring. “Oh shit! I forgot to call my mate!” He answers the phone walking into the kitchen. “Hey Babe!”

David ignores Asher’s comments looking back at Stealth. “Were there any?” But they shake their head.

“No one’s been reported missing… And given all of the evidence here I’m confident in believing they’re human born.” Stealth said as the energy in the room becomes heavy.

“What’s a human born?” Angel asked.

“Not all empowered are born to empowered parents. Sometimes they come from parents who never had powers. No one knows why they manifest powers, it just happens. Human born Shifters are rare…” David said.

“Why? What makes them different?” Angel asked curiously, wanting to understand.

“Where do you think the stories of werewolf’s came from?” Milo said crossing his arms feeling a little uncomfortable about the conversation. “Most human born shifters don’t survive their first shift…”

“Because they’re not taught how to?” Angel asked stepping closer to David holding onto his hand. They could feel how tense he was.

“Because their family usually kills them thinking they’re a monster…” David snarled before squeezing Angel’s hand.

“That’s… terrible…” They lean against him as he pulls them close.

“Can you try and find their family?” David asked looking at Stealth,

“I can try… If they are human born they won’t be registered with the department. So it might take some time.” They said.

“Do what you can,” David said looking at their sleeping form. He watched Marie heal them completely. Noticing there were other scars on their body. This kid had been through a lot for being so young. “Angel, can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure,” Angel said as they walk down the hall just as Asher finished his call. “Are you okay?”

“No…” He takes a deep breath, “I’m angry, that kid’s got no one… possibly seen things someone their age never should have to.”

“What do you want to do?” Angel asked,

“They’re going to need a place to stay, until we can figure out what to do…”

“Say no more! I’ll get the guest room prepped!” Angel said excitedly as they rush down the hallway.

David lets out a satisfied huff smiling at their mate before they are out of sight. Turning back towards the living room and entering the conversation. “We could take turns; you know since we all gotta work.” Asher suggested.

“Are they stable?” David asked Marie,

“They will be out for a while; I suggest they don’t shift for at least three days. Being in their wolf form for so long has side effects.” She explained,

“How long have they been shifted?” Asher asked,

“I can’t give an exact time frame but with the amount of magic going through them… at least a year… maybe two…” She said,

“Shit…” Milo said. He doesn’t have a chance to react before Marie smacks the back of his head.

“How many times have I told you to watch your mouth!” She said as he huffs rubbing the back of his head,

“Sorry ma,”  

“I’ll keep an eye on them tomorrow, Ash. Can you take care of the affairs?” David asked.

“No problem boss!” Asher said giving him a thumbs up.

“Any other side effects I should know about?” David asked.

“It may take them some time to find their voice. Walking will be strange for them too. And be patient with them.”

“Thank you. All of you get some rest. I’ll be calling a pack meeting tomorrow evening to discuss them.” David said as he escorts them all to the door.

“Let us know if you need anything.” Asher said being the last one to leave. David nods before closing the door with a heavy sigh. He turns back looking at the sleeping kid on his couch.

What had he gotten himself in to?

[bloodcoveredwithwalls]

Content

Tags: Soft, soft, fluff, INSIDE era, gender neutral (any can read)!

Word Count: 2.7k 

You walk out of the kitchen with a glass of coffee. A spoon of sugar and enough milk. Just the way Bo likes it. Today though, he wanted it made for the evening, instead of his usual morning routine.

“Bo! Your coffee’s ready!” You scream up through the stairway.

“Coming!”

Running down the stairs was Bo, with a stack of clothes, some his, some yours. You recognize one of your favorite clothing on the pile in his hands.

“Excuse you, is that my flannel?” You ask, tugging on the cloth.

“Excuse me, and yes. Yes it is, honey.” He answers with his eyebrows raised and an awkward smile.

“Aaand, what is it for?”

“That, I may not be able to tell you now. But, come with me to the guesthouse today, will you? I’ll give you a sneak peak.” He says, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. No struggle of course, he was way taller than you.

You nodded, “Okie. Very exciting.” noticing your wool beanie in between the stack.

Bo’s been working on a new project. For at least a year now, he’s been planning on everything. The songs that’ll be in it, how it’ll be played out. Your living room, bedroom and even the kitchen has Bo’s notes and his notebooks scattered around. You’ve promised him long ago that you wouldn’t open or look into any of them. Of course, you didn’t, respecting and giving him his privacy.  

He stays in the guesthouse for hours a day. From morning to night, some days he would even sleep in the guesthouse. You’ve never been in there since he first went in to start his project. Never stepped close at all. Sometimes though, whenever you lay in bed at night, you swore you could hear him slamming the keys of his keyboard from afar, or maybe even him yelling at things.

You know he struggles with his own content. You’ve been through this quite often. He would sometimes come back to the house frustrated, unable to create something that he would like. Some days, he would come back crying, walking straight into your open arms and sobbing into your shoulder. And although you’ve offered to help, he shrugged it off and reassured you that he wants to try his best and work on it alone.

“You need anything else?” You asked as you follow behind him.

“At the moment, no. Oh, wait actually yes. You know my favorite pair of socks?”

“The one with the yellow bit at the end?”

“That’s the one. Thank you Y/N, honey.”

You place the coffee mug on the kitchen table and walked to your front door, where right next to it, is a little cabinet. You pull the top drawer open and looked for the socks, pulling pair after pair, until you found them.

“Found them!” You happily beamed. But as you look back to where Bo was last, he wasn’t there. You saw the sliding door leading to the backyard open , the gentle breeze greeting the kitchen and living room.

You closed the drawer and briskly walked to the kitchen to grab Bo’s coffee mug before stepping out through the door. You tiptoe through the cold grass, quickly making your way to the guesthouse.

Just as you were about to step into the room, Bo came out, quickly closing the door and stopping you in your tracks. He spread his arms out to cover the door. You looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Okay. Just a fair warning before you go in.  There’s a lot of random shit scattered around literally everywhere. So, don’t be too surprised. Or worried.” He smiles.

“Got it. Oh, and here are the socks. And coffee.” You throw back a smile at him. Managing a thumbs up with the pair of socks in your grip.

“Perfect. Thank you so much.”

He turns around and slowly pushing the door handle down his his left elbow, turning his head slightly to you with a shy smile on his face as you both enter into the guesthouse.

The lights were off, the room only illuminated by the sun peaking through the blinds. As you look around, you realize he wasn’t kidding at all. The floor was covered in different wires coming out from different directions. A camera on a tripod was set in the middle of the room, facing towards where you first entered. One of his keyboards was placed on its stand near the camera to a certain angle, while the other that Bo owns was on the floor, awkwardly propped up against the wall.

The desk and cabinet had different books and pieces of paper scattered on top, camera

“Alright, if you don’t mind, the sofa we have is where you can sit on for now. I know the room’s an absolute mess right now.”

He puts his hand out for you, and you grab onto him, slowly making your way to the sofa in the corner of the room with your eyes to the floor, making sure you aren’t stepping on any of the cables.

Bo sat down on the sofa, and pats on the empty space next to him, signaling you to sit. As you did so, you couldn’t leave your eyes off every corner of the room.

“So, this is it so far.”  He sighed.

“I don’t even know what most of all the stuff on the floor is for.” You said, waving your hands from the left to the right, framing what you’re seeing.

“Here, let me show you.” He stands up, walking towards on of the devices on the floor. As he stepped on one of the buttons on it, a bright purple light   projected from a panel near you and onto the right side of the wall.

He stepped on a different button, and this time the light projected to another direction from a different panel.

“Woah…” You muttered.

“Pretty cool right?”

“Very cool…” You said with your lips parted in awe.

He takes a sip of the warm coffee.  “And, tonight, I want you to be here as I record my very first step to my project.”

God, his smile could sweep you off your feet every, single, time. You were so proud of him, so happy to see him step out of his nest and finally work on something once again.  

You frantically nodded, not able to contain your excitement.

He took a sip of his coffee, “But. We might have to wait a bit, because I’ve gotta record this first bit in complete darkness.”

“You sure you want me to stay? I mean, I can wait back in the house.”

He placed his mug on the desk beside him and walked towards you. He reached his hand out and you placed yours in his.

“I haven’t been at home much for some time now. I only ever come back to sleep or to have dinner with you. And you’ve been the only person there for me throughout my process of making this.”

His blue eyes stay on yours. His voice is soft, very gentle, making sure you’re getting what he’s trying to say.

“And Y/N, it’s only fair that you get to be a part of it.”

Once again that smile of his is back. You can’t help but to jump up from your seat and hug him, landing your head on his chest. He froze for a second, hands spread apart with you in between. But in a second, he enveloped you in his warm embrace.

“I am so, so, so proud of you.” You said to him in a muffled voice, “I really am.”

He slowly releases you, and holds you by your shoulders. You notice he was a little teary eyed, his face softening from usual. You place a hand on his cheek and he rests on your hand, soon his left hand follows and holds your hand against his cheek.

“Let’s get ready shall we? I’ll help out with anything you need.” You said to him.

For the next two hours, you helped Bo get ready to record. He vaguely tells you what goes where, and you follow as instructed, moving his cameras around, testing it to see if it’s the way he wants it. Lights were moved around to different areas of the room, testing the way it shines onto him from different angles. You listened and watched as he tests his mic, adjusting how loud the audio output was gonna be, making different tracks to separate the instrumental track from his vocals. This was all a fascinating process for you.

Occasionally, you would have to leave the guesthouse to wait outside as Bo tests something out. He’d told you prior to getting ready that he wanted a few things to be a surprise to you when he starts recording. You were a sucker for his surprises. Anything that Bo’s ever made is a masterpiece to you, so, you’d be happy to wait outside to see what he’s done eventually.

It wasn’t long that you had to wait outside until finally, he opens the door to the guesthouse and tells you to come in. Even then, he covers your eyes to avoid you from looking around too much and spoiling the fun. He guides you back to the sofa, and after you’ve settled on your seat, he tells you to close your eyes.

“Keep them closed! No peeking!”

You hear his voice moving further away from you as he said so. Your curiosity grew, wanting to know where he’s going and what he was up to now.

“Okay, okay! Promise they’re closed!”

You covered your eyes with both hands, unable to hide your smile. You’ve never felt this excited for anything ever since the pandemic started.

“Okay, once I tell you to have them opened, I’ll have started recording by then. So, try your best to be as silent as possible.”

“Got it.” You manage a thumbs up with one hand, while the other now covers both your eyes.

You hear him shuffle around the room, a little “ow” coming out from him as he slaps something on. You didn’t recognize what it was. Then, you heard what you thought was the light switch being flicked. After hearing him shuffle around a for a bit more, he finally tells you to open your eyes from a distance.

“Okay, you can open them now, honey.”

You put your hands down and slowly opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the suddenly dark room. Bo was sat on the chair you both set up, with the light shining to his right side. You guessed what he slapped on was the headlamp stretched around his head. You had a million ideas of what it might be for, but knowing Bo, it’s probably an idea you wouldn’t have thought of.

You pressed your bottom and top lip together and did a zipping motion from the left to the right. He smiled, holding his laugh in as to not mess up the shot. You shoot him a thumbs up and he returned it by blowing you kiss.

And he started. He pressed a few buttons on the keyboard of his laptop then sat back against his chair, relaxed and a little slouched. A catchy beat came from the speaker you helped him set up. Soon after, a few synths came in, making a tune. You sat, frozen to the sofa, only able to take in what's happening in front of you.

Bo was looking away from the camera before he slowly starts lifting the mic closer to his mouth, before starting to sing on cue.

“If you’d have told me, a year ago that I’d be locked inside of my home.” In between, a pre recorded audio of him singing came up before he continued singing live again.

“I would’ve told you, a year ago, “Interesting, now leave me alone.””

You were in awe. You love his deep voice. Finally hearing him sing to these new lyrics that he’d wrote over the past year felt so surreal. You smiled seeing how Bo bounces his leg to the beat of the song.

“Robert’s been a little depressed. No~”

You felt your heart sank at the line, but you kept your cool, not wanting to distract him. Although you were quickly able to calm down a little after hearing the bridge of the song come up. You couldn’t lie, it’s a catchy song.

Once you heard the build up to the chorus, you saw Bo reach his hand up to press a button on his headlamp.

“I’m sorry I was gone, but look I made you some content.”

Bo looked up and so did you, and your jaw dropped as the disco ball hung on the ceiling appeared to be spinning around, reflecting the light shining from his headlamp. The disco ball projected all the lights against the walls of the room, making it look so bright and interactive. You looked around the walls, seeing the lights dance on every single item in the room. You couldn’t hide the smile growing on your face, forgetting if Bo might get distracted by you.

“Daddy made you your favorite, open wide.”

You snap your gaze back at Bo after hearing that, loving how he added in that line to the song. He was concentrated as ever, maintaining a leveled eye contact to one point as not to move the light shining on the disco ball. He continues on, and you stare at him, smiling as you enjoyed the catchy tune.

“It’s a beautiful day to stay inside.”

He lowers the mic with the last line, and looks down into the camera, shining it with the headlamp. You squint your eyes, to try and look at him. The room went dark as he turns his headlamp off, leaving the room pitch black. He walked over to the light switch and flicked it on.

He catches your eyes, smiling wide at you.

You stand from the sofa, making happy little hops towards him.

“How did I not see the disco ball?” You ask in complete awe.

“That’s a bit of Bo’s magic.” He jokes, grinning at you as he takes of his headlamp, throwing it to the chair.

You hug him again, tight and proud. Happy that you were able to linger in the guesthouse and watch him take his first step into the project.

“So. What do you think?” He said, throwing a glance around the room then to you.

You cling on to him, a hand around his waist while you lean on his side.

“Absolutely incredible. Loved the song, loved the lighting, and definitely loved seeing you sing.”

“I need you to know this song’s for you. You’re the reason I’m able to start making content again. So, thank you so much.”

You place other hand on his chest, still leaning onto him.

“Thank you for starting again.”

He reached around for your hand, holding both of them in his before leaning down to kiss you. So gentle, so loving. He places his hand on your cheek, letting his fingers fall to your jaw and neck, the perfect fit. He pulls away, giving you one last quick peck on the lips.

You sigh happily.

“Well, we can leave everything here for now. Give me a sec, I’ll just quickly turn everything off.”

You watch as he leaps to his laptop, then to his speaker, making sure everything’s been saved and turned off properly.

“Alright. All good.”

“Pasta for dinner?” You ask him, intertwining your hands with his.

“Anything you make, really.” Nodding in approval.

You both step out of the guesthouse, knowing that for a few months or maybe more, you won’t be able to see him in there anymore. Before he closes the door, you take a last look at the slowly spinning disco ball. You were left to imagine what’s Bo going to create next. Only surprises.

You walked back to the house hand in hand, watching Bruce wait in front of the sliding door.

“Anyways, Daddy huh?” You teased him.

“Oh hush, I know you love it.” He laughed, patting the top of your head.

- 

Boy, was this fun to write. Thank you so much to @pharlapcartoonist​ for the request and idea behind this, I hope you liked it! I’m open to more requests! Hope everyone has a great day! Please stay happy and stay safe. <3

[gliphyartfan]

@yandere-linked-universe @stars-for-thought @linked-heroes @ice-cream-writes-stuff

@imprisioned-in-the-hole I loved your prompt and couldn't resist! Hope I did it justice!

Wind has a strong presence in this one, that wasn't planned by the way.

Enjoy!

'I'll be fiine guys.'

She totally should have saw this coming.

'This is Wars' era, wandering the market won't that bad.'

Yep— these past few days had been too damn calm for the all of them,

'I'll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!'

Of course something like this was going to go and happen.

'This. fucking. sucks!' She grunted, slowly slide down the rope she made out of the sheets in the room she was trapped in.

This is what happens when you jinx yourself.

'Everything will be fine!' Oh suuure, the first hour was delightful.

Saw some items,

Chatted with some folks,

Even got to pet a few dogs!

But the second hour-

'His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.'

'Sorry, you got the wrong person. Plus I don't feel comfortable with-'

'That wasn't a request.'

'...-!!'

She should have know there would have been someone behind her.

It's always when it's out of your mind that it happens.

And now she was trying to escape her own wedding. And the crazy Duke that wanted to marry her.

She wasn't a hero damnit!

'I'm gonna get lectured so badly after this!' She grunted as she reached the end of the rope, her feet dangling in the air for a moment as she tried to figure out what to do next.

'Damn you laws of physics and gravity!' She whispered to herself.

Physics and gravity decided to take her insult personally as the rope loosened its hold on the railing, causing her to fall into the bushes two feet below her.

'Urk-branch! Branch!' She hissed in pain, reaching underneath and removing the branch poking at her back.

As she rubbed the area, brushing the crumpled sheet from her head, she checked her hand to make sure she wasn't bleeding.

Before she could plan her next move, she stilled as she heard the heavy thuds and clanks of armour approach nearby.

The movement came closer, she used her place in the bushes to keep hidden. Slowly parting the leaves next to her with one hand, she used what visibility she had to discover that yes, it was a pair of guards and the conversation that flowed through the air confirmed they weren't Hyrule guards.

Drat.

'Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?'

'Seems to be the case. He's been very pleased with himself too. Looks like he's trying to get the wedding done by tonight.'

Double drat.

'I don't blame him, you've seen that girl? Bet he's eager for the wedding night.'

Okay. NO.

'Haha! A beauty like that for a wife would be quite the status boost.'

The guards walked past the bush and it's hidden occupant.

Had they looked back, they would have seen a displeased glare directed their way.

(y/n) huffed and looked around, trying to remember where the exit was.

With another glance around, she picked up her dress and slowly made her way out of the bushes, pausing momentarily before taking off the heels she was forced to wear

'I can't run and climb in this dress.' Trying to think about what to do next, she looked down at her clothes.

'Hmm...'

--

'WHERE IS SHE.'

'Link please-'

'Don't tell me to calm down Zelda!'

Wind bit his lip as Warriors marched up to the princess' face and growled.

'Impa is having her men search the castle and surrounding areas, we will find her.' Zelda tried to reassure him, taking a step back when he glared.

'It's been a WEEK and you have nothing to show for it!' He ran a head through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down.

'You know I've been busy with-'

'With the Grand Duke of the farther kingdom who is here as a token of peace and unity between kingdoms.' Warriors recited irritably. 'Yes, very understandably important when someone went missing under the watch of YOUR men.'

'She was last seen in the market, we have blocked the gates and are inspecting every individual leaving the city.' Zelda gave Warriors a look.

'And might I remind you that they are also your men?'

'Apparently not anymore with how you let them slacked off!'

'Excuse me-'

Wind sighed as they started arguing again.

They were getting nowhere.

'This is going nowhere.' Wind turned and saw Hyrule coming up next to him, watching the arguing duo.

'Any luck with the others?' He asked quietly, not surprised when Hyrule shook his head.

'Twilight is using Wolfie to catch any scents but the storm has made that difficult. Time is with Legend and Wild speaking to the merchants and Four is with Sky speaking with the guards.' Hyrule replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Wind felt the same way.

None of them were able to sleep well since she went missing. The only reason they slept at all was because they needed to be rested enough in the event a fight comes their way.

But the lack of her presence was deeply felt.

'Any luck here?' Hyrule asked hollowly, already knowing the answer but still asking.

Wind simply gestured to the still arguing duo.

'Is she even still in town?' He couldn't help but ask, not wanting to think of the possibility that she was far away, but it was necessary.

'She has to be,' Hyrule reassured,smiling weakly. 'The town went on lockdown almost immediately.'

Wind returned Hyrule's smile with a weak one of his own.

They turned back to the duo, feeling more tired as they listened to the princess justify her duties.

'I am already dealing with the Grand Duke and I can't give anymore of my attention to this than I already have.' Warriors just gave her a look.

'I wouldn't be bothering so much if you allowed me access to his guest quarters.' It was Zelda's turn to glare at him.

'You know I cannot do that, he is a guest and has nothing to do with her disappearance.' Only Wind and Hyrule noticed the way Warriors hand twitched, as if desiring to reach for his sword.

Not that they could blame him.

'I am not accusing him Princess,' he said through gritted teeth. 'I am merely requesting-'

'That I allow you access to his quarters.' The displeased expression on the princess' face only matched the captain's.

'Annnd they're arguing again.' Wind muttered, watching them fall back into another verbal brawl.

'The only place we haven't looked is the guest wing.' Hyrule whispered, wringing his hands.

'You think we should sneak in?' Hyrule looked at the arguing pair and nodded.

'Yeah...it's better than assuming nothing is there.'

'Alright...Wars!' The angered captain looked at them, a scowl on his face.

'Rulie thinks he has a lead at the market so I'm heading out with him.' Wind kept a casual look on his face, staring Warriors in the eyes.

Warriors was quiet for a brief moment before he grunted and turned back to arguing his case with the princess.

But he was less tense than he was a moment before.

He understood what they were going to do.

'He'll keep her distracted.' Wind murmured, tugging Hyrule out of the room.

'And Impa?' Wind sighed and rubbed his shoulder.

'Still searching the market place I bet, we gotta be quick.'

And with that, they both headed to the guest wing of the castle.

---

The guest wing wasn't too far away, probably for the convenience of whatever foreign guests came to visit.

But it was walled off and the Grand Duke's personal guard was patrolling the area, forcing the duo to sneak their way in.

'I really hope we find something.' Hyrule whispers, the two stilling as a guard passed by their hiding place.

'Best place to look is the most obvious place.' Wind reassured. 'And the most obvious place is a area that's being guarded by enemy guards.'

Hyrule didn't correct him about the guards.

If she was here, they were enemies.

'Let's look through the rooms! Top or bottom floor?' Hyrule hummed.

'We're good at escaping from higher levels, and there's only two floors, let's start low and move up.'

They worked together, both alerting the other when a guard was close.

Soon they snuck passed the majority and reached the first set of rooms.

Then the second set.

Then the third.

They moved up to the second floor and quietly searched through each room.

It was in the Grand Duke's room that they found incriminating evidence on his desk.

'I can't read this language,' Wind whispered harshly as he glared at the papers in front of him. ' but I know (y/n)'s name anywhere!'

'Take it, we can sure it to the princess.' Hyrule whispered back, keeping watch at the door. He tensed when he saw a couple of guards round the corner. 'We need to go!'

'This is the last room and we haven't found her!'

'We found evidence and that's a better than what we had before, now move!'

It took some time to shuffle out the window and climb down, but they were successfully able to make their escape from the guest wing without notice.

'A lead, that's good.' Wind gasped, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

'But still no (y/n)' Hyrule bite his thumb nervously. 'I hope she's okay...'

'We can't lose hope!' Wind grunted, stretching his back and sighing.

'Let's go, we need to show these papers to the others before we give it to the princess-'

The sailor went rigid, eyes snapping forward, widening.

'What's wrong Wind?' Hyrule asked worriedly, hand on the younger teen's shoulder.

The teen bit his lip to keep his expression from crumbling and his breath was shaky,

'(y/n)...?' Hyrule's own eyes widened and his head snapped to look when Wind was staring.

There, in a torn dirty white dress, no shoes, and messy hair, was their beloved goddess looking around, visibly distressed.

'(y/n)..?' Wind raised his voice, hope as visible in his tone as it was in his eyes.

Hyrule's heart felt such relief as their beautiful goddess' head snapped in their direction.

The smile she gave them was simply magnificent as she immediately ran toward them.

The moment she was close, she wrapped her arms around the both of them and began to cry, relief filling her.

'You have no idea how happy I am to see you two!' She hugged them closer.

'WE'RE happy to see you!' Wind sighed happily, resting his head in her shoulder, both him and Hyrule hugging her as tightly as she was hugging them.

Just having her in their arms was a blessing they treasured so much.

'Where have you been? How did you escape?' She sighed and shook her head.

'I'd rather tell it one time.' She looked around.

'Please tell me the others are near by?' She whispered, absolutely exhausted and didn't want to deal with any more drama.

'Well...no. They are looking for you in town. We snuck into the guest wing to look for you.' Hyrule answered apologetically, heart clenching when she sniffled.

Wind frowned for a moment before he gasped in excitement.

'I'll rally them up!' Hyrule and (y/n) looked at him in confusion as he reached into his pouch.

'Wild has the slate! And if he has the slate-' he pulls out what he was searching for.

'Then we can reach him with this!' (y/n) tilted her head.

'A...stone?' Wind grinned at them, the pirate's charm dangling from his fingers.

'A COMMUNICATION stone!' (y/n) gasped in delight and gave Wind another hug.

'Call him! Call him!' Wind laughed and activated the stone.

'Um, I've been meaning to ask...' Hyrule quietly said to (y/n) who looked at him innocently. '...About your..outfit...'

Wind ignored them for a brief moment as Wild's tired voice came from the pirate's charm.

'What is it sailor?'

'Guess who me and Hyrule found!' Wind grinned as he heard gasps.

'You found her?! Is she safe?!'

'They found her?!'

'She's okay! We're by the-'

'HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU?!'

Wind turned his head so fast, he winced at the pop he felt, the loud yells coming from his charm filling the air.

'WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?!!' (y/n) winced as she realized the panic she just caused

'Uh-'

He couldn't help it, Wind laughed, soft and just a little hysterical.

Of course an insect had to pop up when they let their guard down.

---

'Where is she.'

'Sir, we have our men searching for her this very moment.'

'I want her found by TONIGHT, the wedding will go as planned.'

'Of course sir!' The Grand Duke scowled as his guard walked off.

He is so close to raising his status.just another day and he would have been on top of the social world. He sneered, like a child, storming down the halls of the guest wing.

'Should have simply left with her when I had the chance.' He ran a gloved hand down his face.

To think he had one of the heroes of legend in his grasp only for her to have slipped through his fingers.

He'll have to make sure to teach her a lesson.

'Sir!' He sighed irritably, turning to see another one of his guard approaching him.

'What is it? Did you find her?' The guard looked nervous.

'Sir, Princess Zelda is requesting your presence in the throne room at once.' The Grand Duke tensed and stared at the guard.

'Are you sure?' The guardsman nodded, stepping back when the Duke growled.

'Of all the times...' He looked back at the guardsman. 'Continue looking for the girl.'

After the guardsman nodded, he decided to get it over with and headed to the throne rooms.

--

--

'Grand Duke, thank you for coming at such a short notice.'

'Your Highness.' The Grand Duke bowed to her, as he rose he noticed the nine gentlemen standing to either side of her.

The heroes of legend.

The Grand Dukes greed brought to mind the rise in his status at what might be a possible meeting with the legendary nine.

He was to arrogant to realize the cold looks he was receiving from them.

She smiled, nodding in greeting. 'I apologize for disturbing your day Grand Duke, I understand how frustrating it can be, but I heard of a strange rumor recently and I had hoped you would clarify it for me?'

'Please rest assured Princess, I will do all that I can to assist you.' He said, smiling openly, the perfect gentleman.

'Splendid. Now,' She dropped the smile. 'Did you conspire to abduct the heroes' companion and force her to wed you?'

The Grand Duke froze, paling as the question registered in his head.

'Wha-'

'Ah. Before I continue, allow me to properly introduce the gentleman before me-'

'There is no need your Highness,' calmly interrupted Time, coldly gazing down at the nervous Nobleman. 'He is as aware of our identities as we are aware of his.'

'I-'

'And you seem to be very aware of the identity of our most dearest companion.' Legend hissed from his place next to Time, glaring daggers at the unsettled man.

The Grand Duke's expression twisted into fear, anger, and panic.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he cleared his throat. 'I'm sure I don't know what you're speaking of.' He calmly answered.

'Perhaps a misunde-'

' A misunderstanding? I'm sure.' Warriors scoffed, looking at Zelda with a raised eyebrow.

She sighed "Lets not fool ourselves here, we all know what this is about.' She stared sternly at him. 'You abducted the young woman known as (y/n) and were conspiring to wed her for...status?'

'She isn't very happy about being kidnapped.' Wild said casually, as if he was not wishing he could jam a bomb down the Grand Duke's throat and detonate it.

It seemed the arrogant man could barely handle being talked down in such a way. His clenched fists trembled in anger.

'I will not allow such accusations to be made against my person!' He looked at Zelda, face flushed in anger.

'If you believe that our kingdoms will be allied after this, I assure you that-'

'If your kingdom is full of noblemen like you, than Hyrule would benefit by NOT allying with you.' Warriors interjected, ignoring Zelda's stern look towards him, looking down his nose at him.

'You have no proof!' Warriors sighed and nodded.

'I suppose I don't.' He was silent until the Duke looked smug before he matched his expression with one of his own, pointing behind the Duke.

'But she's proof enough.'

'Oh, so I'm demoted to proof now, am I?'

The Duke went rigid, his mouth snapping shut on the words just spoken as he slowly turned his head-.

An dispassionate look directed right at him.

'Apologies my Angel.' Warriors smiled softly at her. 'No insult meant.'

'Hmm.' She raised an eyebrow, a brief glance at Warriors before looking at the Grand Duke.

'(y/n) I ask for complete honesty.' Zelda commands. 'Was the Grand Duke the man behind your abduction with intention to force you to wed him?' (y/n) nodded.

'Yes your Highness.' Zelda closed her eyes and sighed.

'Very well, I will arrange for his departure tonight.' The Grand Duke's face a unique combination of red and enraged yet also paling.

'T-This will not stand! When my king hears of this-.'

'We have already sent your king the information of your crimes.' The princess proclaimed to the unsteady nobleman.

'Y-you-'

'You are no longer welcomed within the borders of Hyrule Kingdom and are henceforth outlawed from ever returning. Impa shall escort you to the guest wing to retrieve your belongings.'

Zelda then turned and strode away, but not before sending an apologetic glance at Warriors.

He simply returned her look with a blank one.

(y/n) walked passed the royal knights that now surrounded Grand Duke and made her way to the group.

'I'm so glad you guys found me.' She said with relief in her voice.

'You ended up saving yourself dear.' Time chuckled, reaching up and cupping her cheek. 'And we were panicking like we lost our minds.'

'I was panicking when Wind and Hyrule popped up.' She admitted. 'Trust me, I was so happy and relieved to be found by you guys.'

'We'll always find you (y/n)!' Wind chirped, wrapping his arms around her waist, causing her to giggle.

'Well I guess it has it's uses.' She clapped her hands.

'I'm hungry and demand all the cuddles! I hated this week!' Wild was already pulling out his slate and looking through his inventory.

'I'll make a meal that'll taste so good, you'll forget this week ever happened!' (y/n) grinned in delight.

'That's what I want to hear!'

The Chain surround her as they guided her out of the throne room, the angry cries of the Grand Duke not worth notice.

Yet two members of the group lingered behind.

And they were eyeing the fuming nobleman with calculating eyes.

'We could have been a bit more...hands on with his punishment... ya know that don't you old man...?' Wind commented, his treasured wind waker in one hand.

'As enjoyable as it would be, I don't want to spend a moment longer away from Her.' Wind sighed but nodded in agreement , crossing his arms, tapping his wind waker against his chin.

'So the storm will kill him?' Time nodded, inspecting his Ocarina casually.

'I have more than enough magic to conjure one strong enough.'

'You've already had Wild damage parts of the ship correct?' Wind nodded. 'Than once I summon the storm, make sure the winds finish the job.'

Wind hummed. 'Kay.'

They both looked at the shrinking form of the dead man walking.

'Ugh, I hate bugs.' Wind huffed, a disgusted look on his face.

Time stared at the Duke until he could not see him no more.

'Hm..So do I...'

That night, the group of nine celebrated the return of their most beloved member, lavishing her with their affection and as she requested, all the cuddles she asked for.

(That night, reports were received by two kingdoms that notes a vicious storm appeared as the Grand Duke's ship sailed beyond the Hyrulian sea borders. Destroying the ship beyond recognition. There were no survivors.)

[forthehpfanboys]

Christmas Break

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You liked Winter Break Draco. Unfortunately, he was replaced by Usual Dick Bag Draco who becomes ruthless. At least Harry is there to make you feel better.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), jealousy sex, dirty talk, swearing, spanking, short mention of slapping and hair pulling, sir kink and degrading a tad- fluffy ending tho. I may have taken the kinks too far but ya know-

Notes: Requested by @the-offical-yn​, who I must apologize too. A lot of my stories got away from me so I’m very sorry this is late- but um- enjoy getting railed by Draco guys! Yo, I made a shit plot for this. I’m so sorry if it’s baaddd.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

For years, he had this twisted mind against anyone not a pure-blood or a Slytherin. He had zero shame with cussing out Gryffindor's, spitting at Ravenclaw’s during quidditch games and tripping Hufflepuff's. But, suddenly, just before Christmas break, he changed and there was nothing blunt about it. He would help Ravenclaw first years pick up their books if they stumbled on the fake steps on the moving staircases, tutor third year Hufflepuff's in Herbology after hours and helped a few Gryffindor students fix their potions.

Draco changed faster than water turns to ice in a freezer. It was almost alarming. Even Snape seemed to be concerned, probably more than others. The greasy git kept yelling at Gryffindor's (mostly the Golden Trio [mostly Harry]) about what would happen when he found out who jinxed Malfoy. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he changed, but everyone else could. To the day, infact.

It was just a few days before October, when it started. Draco was strutting down the halls, using Crabbe and Goyle as shields from the dozens of students who walked by him. They stood at his sides, knocking students out of the way, acting like Draco owned this bubble of space as they walked, but somehow, you slipped through. You were crossing in front of him, trying to hurry to class and ended up tripping over your own feet.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to catch yourself, but instead you fumbled right into Draco, landing heavily against his side. He scoffed, shoving you off and getting ready to cuss you out when you began to apologize (even if you don’t like him) and gather your things off the floor. With your head tilted down you didn’t notice the Slytherin staring at you like you were a puppy. When you gathered your things, you scurried off, apologizing to more students as you went by.

Apparently, that day, he saw you tutoring a whole table of students, all houses included, and you were being so nice to them, so kind and your voice was soft and he heard you say “Hey, no! It’s ok! There is no such thing as a dumb question, ask away”. He had this urge in his chest to just be different, to be someone you would want to be around and be a friend, maybe even be more. It made him feel sick.

It took about a week to get your attention, then a quick growing friendship blossomed. Your relationship with Draco changed- just like he had. It changed from funny jokes, sassy remarks and late night games of exploding snaps to flirting contests, long hugs and what could be considered dates. 

By December, you and Draco were dating without the official titles. Everyday, you two were growing closer and the relationship was growing more rock solid with every passing event. Soon enough, winter break was coming around and everyone was genuinely surprised when they saw the blonde Slytherin strutting through the halls during Christmas break. Usually, the pureblood went home to spend the holidays in a cabin in a warmer climate with his family.

And it was weird for everyone to see him not bragging and tripping students and spitting at kids. But for you? It was a blissful few weeks. Even the Golden Trio got a break. They were some of your closer friends, so Draco gave them a bigger break. The blonde even went as far as helping Harry during potions. It was terrifying.

Until Christmas break was passing and Draco went through another change, which was what you were going to confront him about. 

"Malfoy!" You found him out in the courtyard, a teary-eyed (y/h) first year trailing behind you. The poor kid was shaking with fear and let out a sniffle. "You have some very good explaining to do!"

The blonde looked from Goyle to you, his eyes slowly dragging down your form before darting back up to your flaming eyes. His smile had dropped and was now replaced with a sharp frown. His nose scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crisscrossed over his chest.

“I don’t have to explain anything to the likes of you.” He sneered. He looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with the first year, who scooted over to hide himself better.  He made a scoff and turned back to Goyle, shaking his head while snorting. “Look at this- he’s tryin’ to be a hero.” As if on a cue, his little posse of Slytherins broke out into laughter, forcing your face to heat up from humiliation.

“Seriously? Are you fucking five?” You called over the idiots laughter, which morphed into pathetic ‘ooh’s. “Draco, stop being a child and a douchebag and just apologize to the first year.”

“Why should I?” Draco stepped closer to you. His eyes, stance and voice all held a challenging undertone. He moved some blonde hair out of his face, but you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked down to your lips.

“Because you called him a mud-blood for bumping into you. Grow a pair, gain some manners and apologize to him.” You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best angry face. If Draco was pulling a prank, you were going to punch him, without hesitation. And how the hell did an asshole like this become a prefect??

“Oh, your right, I definitely should apologize when the kid bumped into me. But I think I have a better idea.” He brought a finger to his lips, tapping it in mock thought. Sarcasm and sass was radiating from him and it only served to piss you off more. “How about you fuck off and leave me alone, (L/n).” He smirked, turning to his posse and symboling them to leave with him for a dramatic exit. You took a deep breath, your hands balling at your sides. 

“I’m sorry for him.” You turned around and put a hand on the kids back and gave him a soft push back toward the castle. “Go tell the head of the house, ok? I’m gonna keep talking to him.” When he nodded and began to walk out of the courtyard, you hurried in the direction Draco left in. You found him heading across the bridge, in the middle of his group, who were effectively taking up the whole span of the bridge. His laughter echoed in the hollow build, which only had your blood boiling worse.

So, you called his name again, effectively getting his attention. He turned so fast you thought his head would’ve spun all the way around like an owl. You stared into his now burning eyes, walking closer to him. You could feel the adrenaline mixing with rage in your veins. You weren’t thinking straight, but you didn’t care. 

“Wanna explain why you're being an ass all of a sudden or are you just gonna insult me and strut off with your orgy party?” You glared at him, ignoring his irritated sneer. It was making your face red (or whatever hue, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) with anger.

“I don’t have to tell you a thing.” Draco was, naturally, turning defensive, even if he knew deep down how he was acting was wrong. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he knew he was actually being an ass or not.

“Ok. I get it. You stay the fuck here with your friends and I’ll just leave you alone then. Merlin, why did I think you’d change?” Your face showed disappointment before contouring back to anger and frustration and aggression. You ran your tongue over your teeth, a frown etching across your lips. “My mistake.” You turned around, still going off pure adrenaline. You felt a hand grasp your wrist and immediately tugged it free with all of your strength. “No, I really don’t wanna hear it, fuck off.”

You didn’t look back, and you certainly didn’t hear him say anything. Of course it hurt, but you didn’t care at the moment. Your heart was thumping in your chest and all you felt was anger. He had the audacity to befriend you, say he really liked you for fucks sake, and then do a complete 180. You were grateful it was the weekend so you didn’t have to sit next to him in class.

You stomped through the snow, hurrying across the school grounds to the library (can you tell I have no idea what Hogwarts layout is?). You pushed open the doors and decided to basically hide yourself in an empty corner to try to cool down. After pulling the seat out, you sat down, slouching and resting your forehead on the table. You want to know what happened, why it happened

Was it his dad? Was it his friends? Was he jinxed or something? You let out a sigh of frustration. The idea of his dad convincing him to start treating people like trash again brought your anger back. You rolled your neck and ran your hands through it.

Pulling your wand out of your pocket, you waved it casually, summoning a book from one of the carts beside the isles. You didn't care what it was. You just wanted a distraction. 

Luckily, for you, it didn't take long to get distracted. A few pages and more than a few dreadful minutes into your "reading", someone sat across from you. You looked over the rim of the book to see a smiling Gryffindor with big, round glasses slipping down his nose. He gave an awkward greeting while pushing his glasses back up. 

"Hi to you too, Harry. This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" You smiled, shutting the book and crossing your arms over it.

"Well, I just heard about the Draco fiasco that took place a few hours ago-" had it really been hours? "-and I wanted to make sure you were OK." Harry scooted closer to the table, his cheeks a soft pink.

"I'm fine, man. You don't gotta stress about me." You stretched your arms over your head while leaning back in your chair. You were trying to give the illusion of calmness and it was sorta working.

"Oh, good! I'm- I'm glad you're ok!" He began to fiddle with his fingers, digging at the nails nervously. "Because I also wanted to ask.. Um.. If you are free? Like this weekend? To hang out?" His green eyes barely met yours and, instead, opted for staring right over your shoulder. 

"Oh, I'm n-"

"He's not free, Potter. We have plans covering every minute of the weekend. Scram."

Your smile faded as Draco's voice filled the small corner. You looked up, immediately catching his stern gaze. He was leaning against the end of a bookshelf, his arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other. He was clearly chewing on his tongue, not that he'd admit it. You gave him a glare, your arms crossing over your chest. 

"But, Draco. I thought I canceled our plans." Your voice was condescending and it only fueled his anger. Harry, noting the weird tension, ducked out of there quickly, swerving around Draco and speed walking to a safer, less awkward part of the library. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" The blonde hissed while taking long steps over to the table. He was still staring you right in the eyes. Draco moved the chair Potter was sitting in and put his hands flat against the table. He made eye contact with him. 

"Why should it matter to you? I thought I was just being a selfish hero." You narrowed your eyes at him, daring him to make a move. You could feel the anger returning from earlier.

"I never said selfish. Why are you making this so complicated? I have a reputation to withhold, (Y/n)." His eyes softened a bit. He looked down at the polished wood before looking at you again. Draco tried to give you a smile, but you didn’t return it; you just tapped your fingers against the table top.

"I don't give a rats ass about your shitty reputation! You bully pre-teens and they actually fear you and you think that's a good thing? That's what you wanna leave behind when you graduate here?" Your face was turning a deep shade of (insert skin color please). He knew he fucked up, not that he’d admit it, and his soft eyes hardened again.

"Remember who's in charge in this relationship, boy." His hand snaked around the back of your neck, tugging you forward. Your nostrils flared as you released a sigh. Was he really pulling out the dominant card right now?

"I told you there was no relationship." you shoved his hand away, standing straight up and walking past him. You didn’t get far before he grabbed the hood of your robe and tugged you back. He guided you so your back collided roughly with the end of the book case he was leaning against.

“I know you can’t quit me like that, love.” The pure-blood spat out the pet name as his thumb and index finger roughly grabbed your chin and tugged your head up. “We both know I infected you like a virus- I know you're obsessed with me, sweetie.” A menacing grin spread across Draco’s pale lips when your jaw dropped open and your mouth fumbled to find words to combat him.

He moved his leg between yours, his hands moving from the scrunched fabric of your hood to your neck. He leaned in, planting a rough kiss to your lips while his other hand untucked your shirt. He pushed his hand under the shirt, rubbing the skin of your hip while he deepened the kiss. He managed to push his tongue past your lips and ran along yours.

Draco angled his leg to brush against your crotch causing you to jolt in the kiss. He pulled back, his tongue licking your teeth while pulling back. 

“Told you.” He purred out. The hand on your neck gives you a squeeze around the neck while his icy eyes go from your lips to your eyes. He could read you like a book. You hated it. “Don’t be a slut, darling. Let’s head to my room, yeah?” He didn’t move until you nodded your head slowly. “Good boy. Come on.”

The walk to the common room was long, but the hand around the back of your neck was sturdy. It didn't take long for him to have you pressed against the wall of his prefect bedroom, chest first, your pants basically vanished from your legs and his hand wrapped around your hard dick. 

“You’re such a whore, aren’t ya, baby boy, hmm?” Draco’s voice boomed in your ear as his fingers interlocked into your skelp. You couldn’t help but sob. The hand on your dick was going faster, but refused to slide over the swollen head. Your nails scraped down the wall pressed against your front and Draco pressed your cheek harder against the brick. “Been such a bad boy- using that dirty mouth to talk so poorly about me and to flirt with my anime. If you wanted a three-some you should’ve asked Zabini. But Potter? You know that’s a firm no, baby.”

He was tsking before biting down on the side of your neck, the grip he had around your cock only tightened to the point of painful. Tears of humiliation and pain gathered in your eyeline, threatening to boil over. Your legs subconsciously spread when he began to grind into the bulge of your ass, his hard dick prominent into your crack. He licked a strip up from the bite to your ear.

“You know very well what happens to slutty bad boys who flirt with sir’s enemy, right, baby?” He was growling in your ear again, his hand coming to a tight hold at your base. He let out a mocking laugh when your legs clamped shut and your hips tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Draco!” You squeaked out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. It made Draco happy to hear your pathetic pleas, but his joy was melting away due to you still squirming in his grasp. He shook his head, tsking again. He tugged your hair, yanking your head back and forcing you to bow against his body. He gave you a firm slap against the cheek before cupping your cheeks together and forcing your lips to pout, his hand still in your hair.

“You know that’s not my name right now, kitten. Use the right one.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your voice was weak compared to Draco’s, the obvious authority he had over you made you shiver. Abruptly, he pushed you against the wall, letting go of your hair and he was backing away from you. 

“Not yet your not, kitten. Finish stripping then get your arse over here.” Draco spoke, sitting down on the bed, patting the top of his thighs. He smirked when you did what he said, tossing your shirt off into the corner and approaching him slowly. He reached out to grab your arm and tug you over his lap. 

He used one hand to push your face into the mattress while the other ran over your right cheek. He loved watching your hips try to duck and avoid the cold silver of his rings. He let out a mocking laugh, his hands grabbing into your bum, nails digging into the skin to leave marks that had your back arching. 

"Aw, baby. Is it too cold for you?" He laughed louder, feeling you nod against his left hand tangled in your hair. "Aw, poor baby. Wait until you feel them bruise your skin. Now, do you remember what you say?"

"Yes, sir." your voice sounded strained--like you were mentally preparing yourself for the bite of the rings, the puncture of his smacks. You were, in all honesty. He never held back during punishments. 

"See? It isn't so hard to be a good boy after all, is it?" he patted your head before brushing your hair back. "Remember the safe system, darling? Good. Color?" 

"Green, sir." your legs were clenching together and wiggling, but a swat to the back of the sensitive skin of your thighs made you stop. "I'm sorry sir." 

"Good.. Now, how many does a horny little whore like you deserve, hmm? Ten? Fifteen?"

You knew what he was looking for. 

"T-Twenty." You swallowed. The anticipation and degrading was making your head cloudy. 

"Twenty? Well, you must've been really naughty, huh?" His hand ran to your lower back, caressing the skin before dragging his nails back down, leaving a trail of red marks down your skin.

You nodded your head quickly, biting your lip to conceal a moan. You could feel the pre-cum going down your hard dick, which was pressing into Draco's thigh.

"No response? Maybe we should add another ten then, since you wanna be so bad." 

"I-I'm sorry, sir! Twenty is what I deserve." You said quickly, trying to turn back and give him the huge innocent eyes he always went weak for. 

"No. Thirty seems far more fitting." He chose now to start the punishment with a raised hand and a harsh slap over the perfect curve of your ass. He watched the skin bounce and groaned, gripping the flesh again.

"One! Thank you sir." You squeaked out, back arching at the familiar sting of the hit. The cold silver of his rings colliding with your skin caused your toes to curl. 

"Atta boy." he purred out, repeating the action on the other side.

“Two, thank you sir!”

By the tenth spank, tears were falling freely down your cheeks. By the fifteenth, your voice was breaking with each shout. By the twentieth, you were trying to crawl away. By the twenty-fifth, you were kicking your legs like a brat. Somehow you managed to count to thirty without losing track. 

"You did so good, baby. Even if you were being a brat." Draco chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. His other hand rubbed your cheeks, trying to sooth the deep red (or whatever tint shows up with your skin, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) marks on your skin.

You let out another sniffle, propping yourself up on an elbow and wiping the tears off your cheeks. His hand ran up your sweat thighs, his palms rubbing the already sore skin of your ass once he got to it.

“Color?”

“Green, sir.” You turned your head to look at him. Your legs shifted, creating a shattering hyper awareness of how hard and how wet your cock was against his thigh. You caught his dirty smirk before he flipped you over. Suddenly, it was stoic and he was tugging your lower half back onto his lap. This time, Draco was sitting back on his calves, and he was steadily putting your legs around his waist.

“Good. Now,” he paused to lick his lips, “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, got it?” His hands moved down your thighs before moving up to your pelvic bone. While you were responding with a polite, but breathless ‘yessir’, his hand was lazily wrapping around your cock.

He was still fully dressed, and the smooth fabric of his uniform pants rubbed against the sore spots on your ass. Your hips moved upward, trying to get more of his moving hand and less of the fabric against your bottom. You let out a breathy moan while his thumb idly swiped across the swollen head of your dick.

“That’s it.” He mumbled to himself over the sound of his zipper dropping. He mumbled a preparing, lubrication and cleaning spell, his hand still working you slowly. The blonde stuck his tongue out in concentration while pushing his own cock into your lubed ass. Draco let out a hum, his teeth clamping down onto his tongue. “Fuck yes. Such a good boy- my good little slut.” He let go of your dick and clamped his hands onto your waist and used the leverage to pull you down onto his cock.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the cry as he stuffed his cock into you. You felt the wind knocked out of you. You gripped the sheets, whining pathetically. The head of his dick nudged against your sweet spot while he sat there, waiting patiently for you to adjust. It had been a bit of time since the last time you guys had fun sexy time. Your dick was literally throbbing, occasionally twitching, at the idea of him literally fucking you stupid. Your eyes were staring at the top of his four post bed, lost in your own thoughts when he began to move.

He tested the waters with the quick thrust, which yanked a moan from you. When you finally looked at him, you realized he was watching you intently, a menacing grin spread across his face.

“How’s your arse?” Draco asked, his voice condescending and cocky as he gave another thrust. His hand snaked around to your sore ass cheeks and gave one a tough squeeze, his nails digging in.

A cry left your lips, this time pain filled instead of pleasure. You planted your feet flat on the bed and tried to wiggle away from his grasp, which only made it worse.

“Sore, you dick!” You reached around, grabbing his wrist and trying to pull his hand away. “Ow! Let go, Draco!” You dug your nails into his wrist, trying to show him a small level of the pain he was causing but he just laughed, mocking your voice.

“Owie, it hurts! Take it, babe. You can do it.” He let go, his hands coming to hold your hips again before moving you at a punishingly rough pace. His muscular thighs rubbed against your ass, not that he cared. The pain was somehow starting to make the pleasure stronger. Soon it was filling your veins and fogging your brain.

Draco relished every moan, every gasp, every little sound you made. He listened to you whine out his name and it only fueled him more. He watched the sweat bead across your forehead and felt proud of himself.

“Atta boy. Gonna cum soon? Gonna cum completely untouched, like a whore? Hmm?” He purred out, leaning down to leave hickies across your neck and scratches down your chest. Your back arched pathetically off the bed while a woeful affirmative left your lips- but it wasn’t good enough for him.

“Say it.” He snarled, his voice too close to your ear to be that loud.

“G’nna cum, please.” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but your arms wrapped around his neck and pulling him closer. He shifted so he could rail you into the mattress and fulfill his promise.

“Please what? How can I help you if I don’t know what you want? What do you need, kitten?” 

It was like he used the imperius curse on you. You bent to fit his mold and he couldn’t have asked for more.

“Please, sir. Please let me cum, please.” You whimpered, your toes curling in the air. Your ankles locked behind his waist and dug into him, effectively pulling him closer. His palm glided up your chest again and he gave you a smile.

“Course you can, love. Whenever you're good to go.” Draco didn’t ease up his hips, but his voice was softer and after a few thrusts hitting your prostate and a brush of his stomach against your weeping cock had you cumming. Your head tossed back and you didn’t bother to muffle the cry of his name.

It didn’t take much to follow you for Draco, it never did. He always thought one of the most beautiful expressions you could make was while you were cumming on his bed. That, and when he gave you candy and you smiled at him. He kissed every bruise he left on your skin before landing on your lips and laid next to you.

He pulled a sheet over the two of you- the room had gotten hot but he knew both of you were too tired to get cleaned and shower. He pulled you to his chest, kissing your temple.

“You did so good, baby. I love you.” He rested his chin against the top of your head, completely delving you in his shirt covered chest. He rubbed a hand down your back. Your boyfriend didn’t care about sweat. 

“I love you too, Draco.” Your voice was rough and raspy. You planted a kiss to his cheek and nuzzled deeper into him somehow. “I miss you. The nice you- not the mean Slytherin you. He can suck my dick.”

“I know, I know. I’ll work on it. I promise.” Draco spoke between laughs. He hesitated, his mind bouncing between two questions he wanted to ask at once. “Do you want me to get you a bottle of water and we go take a bubble bath?” His voice was soft, but a massive grin spread across his lips when you nodded.

“Can we take a nap first?” You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and gave him that smile he loved.

“Of course, dove.”

[pingutats]

wake up in some promised land

despite his best efforts to keep their relationship out of the public eye, harry & y/n are photographed together as they leave a party one night —and harry has an interview the very next morning.

warnings: a little bit of angst about trying to navigate fame and a relationship. harry has a foul mouth. but there’s a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Harry was decidedly not in a good mood. 

It had been a late night. He’d had a few more drinks than he usually did. In his defence it was earned—he’d just released an album, it was soaring to great heights on iTunes charts all over the world and already receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews—so sue him if he indulged in some expensive champagne, a couple fancy cocktails, too many rounds of shots for him to remember clearly… It was a good night all around. 

The headache he has right now though, brought on by the sudden blare of his alarm (far earlier than he would have preferred), threatens to tarnish the memory. He even considers swearing off drinking forever so he’ll never suffer like this again. 

When he voices this intention to a dozing Y/N as he pulls a shirt on, his only feedback is a pillow-muffled, “You’re such an old man, H.”

He leans over the bed and kisses the small part of her forehead that’s exposed between the pillow and the blanket. “Come on, love. Time to get up.”

“You can get up. I don’t have a radio appearance to make.” She jerks the blanket up to cover her head entirely. “I’ll stay here, thank you very much.”

He manages to drag her downstairs with him anyway, with promises of making her coffee and a hot breakfast. In the kitchen she yawns and stretches, the over-sized sleep shirt opening like bat wings as she raises her arms above her head. He has to force his fond gaze away to concentrate on turning the coffee machine on and pulling eggs out of the fridge. 

“This is a really ungodly hour,” she comments, watching him rummage around in a cupboard for a frying pan. 

“No such thing as a good night’s sleep when you’re as successful as I am,” he tells her wisely. 

She doesn’t even indulge him with a laugh, which tells him exactly how tired she is. 

The coffee’s done quickly—Harry is so addicted to the stuff he could probably make it in his sleep with all the practise he’s had—and she grabs the cup from him with greedy fingers, closing her eyes and sipping as she’s perched up on the counter. 

Harry nearly lets out a moan when the caffeine hits his lips. It surely can’t work that quickly, but already he’s starting to feel alive again. He turns to the stovetop and cracks the eggs in the frypan with one hand, using his other hand to cling to his cup for dear life. 

His phone starts ringing and the sound pierces through his head. His manager’s name is displayed, which is a good thing because if it was anyone else calling right now Harry would probably be tempted to kill them, and even if no publicity is bad publicity, he’s not sure a murder charge would be good for his album sales. He slides his finger across the screen to answer it and tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he adjusts the heat on the stove. 

“Hey, Jeff,” he says. 

Jeff laughs on the other end. “You sound fucked.”

“Big night,” Harry grumbles. “You don’t sound to pretty yourself.”

“All I’m saying is you better get yourself set in the next half hour, ‘cause a voice like that on the radio isn’t going to help you sell records.”

“I’m makin’ breakfast,” Harry retorts. “Got a coffee, I’ll be fine—oh, shit—fuck!” He’s mixed up his hands as he tried to flip the eggs, and poured coffee in the frypan. “Give me a second.”

He sets his coffee down on the counter and unsticks his phone from his cheek, turning it on speaker and placing it next to his cup. He stares at mess in the frypan and decides he’s going to have to try drain the liquid into the sink, without losing the eggs. He accepts this challenge with humility and grace, because he knows it’s his own stupid fault.

Y/N is cackling behind him. On any other day he might have been annoyed, but her laughter this morning just means that she’s in a better mood than earlier. He’d give anything to keep her happy, so if it takes fucking up their breakfast to have her smiling—so be it. 

“Okay,” Harry says to Jeff once he’s secured the situation. 

“Is everything okay over there?” Jeff’s voice is slightly tinny through the phone speaker, but his stress is evident in his tone. 

“Yeah, we’re just—“ he looks at the eggs, dyed brown by the coffee, and glances over his shoulder apologetically at Y/N. “We’re having caffeinated eggs. You’re on speaker. Y/N’s here too. Say hi, baby.”

“Hey, Jeff,” Y/N chirps. 

Jeff sighs. “Hi. Listen, it‘s probably good that you both hear this anyway. There are a couple of photos of the two of you from last night that are doing the rounds on Twitter this morning.”

Harry stiffens. “What?”

Here’s the thing: Harry and Y/N are definitely an item. It’s happened pretty quickly. They’ve been dating for a few months and now whenever they’re in the same city they’re practically living together. They’ve said “I love you” to each other often enough that its utterance isn’t a special occasion anymore. So, sure, they’re boyfriend-girlfriend, and if all goes to Harry’s plan, they’ll be more than that soon enough.

But in the meantime, she’s also his best-kept secret. There have been rumours, of course. They’ve been spotted having lunch together or going on walks. Anyone paying attention knows they’re good friends, but Harry has been careful not to let the other dimension of their relationship slip out into public yet. He conducts himself on public outings (secretly dates) like a Victorian gentleman, constantly vigilant that his affection never goes beyond what’s appropriate between friends. 

“They’re not bad,” Jeff says quickly. “It’s just pretty obvious what’s going on. I’ll send them to you, hang on.”

Y/N slides off the bench and comes to stand right behind Harry, leaning around him to stare at the phone. The minute of waiting for the photos to come through feels like forever. Y/N must sense his tension, because she puts her hands on his shoulders and squeezes. 

A notification pops up at the top of his screen: from Jeff, 8 images attached. He taps it quickly and frowns at the photos. 

They must have been taken as they were leaving the bar that the album release party was at. He notices Jeff and others also crowded on the pavement outside, lit by the orange glow of streetlights. The focus, however, is of course on Harry and Y/N, who were putting on something of a show for all their friends—and, apparently, the rest of the world. 

The first couple are okay. There Harry is, his arm slung around Y/N, clearly not sober as he bellows something up to the sky with a massive grin on his face and closed eyes. They were singing, he vaguely remembers, the karaoke they were doing inside the bar spilling over the rest of their night. Y/N is laughing at him, clapping her hands together.

Harry drags his finger up the screen to scroll to the next photos in Jeff’s chain. These ones start to reveal the two of them as much more than just friends. The arm around her dropped to her waist, pulling her into his body. And then he was bending his head down. And then he was kissing her. 

He scrolls down even further. 

In this one, he’s groping her ass in full view of the camera. 

“Harry, you lecher!” Y/N scolds, smacking his arm in good humour.

He just shakes his head, staring at the photo. “There’s no plausible deniability, is there?”

“There isn’t,” Jeff says over the phone. He laughs weakly. “You two put on a real show.” He must sense the panic that Harry’s feeling, because he adds, “Listen, Harry, I can blacklist questions about it if you want. Just tell me what you want to do.”

Harry looks at Y/N, chewing on his lip. He feels like a teenager again, out of control of his narrative and at the mercy of the media. He’s meticulously developed his skills of privacy for years, now, and one night of insobriety and bad luck undid it all. 

Jeff clears his throat. “The thing with blacklisting is that it might raise more questions. And even if you don’t talk about it, you’ve gotta remember that everyone else will be.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Look—“

Y/N puts her hand on his cheek, patting him. “Hey,” she says gently. “It’s okay.”

He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth and holds it in for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he says finally with a sigh. 

She scoffs. “You’re not the only one in these photos.”

He frowns. She doesn’t get that he’s apologising for more than just the photos. It’s the fact that they have to deal with this at all, that it’s such a big deal for them to simply act like a normal couple. It’s the fact that it’s him, and he is who he is. 

“H,” she presses further. “It’s up to you. Your decision. But I want you to know that I’m happy whichever way you choose.”

He searches her eyes for any hint of doubt. She didn’t manage to clean off all her make-up last night, and there’s a smear of glitter on her temple and dark smudges of mascara underneath her eyes. She looks tired, but she’s definitely serious about what she’s saying. 

“You get what it means to be public with me, though,” he says at last. He hesitates. “It’s… intense.”

She shrugs and gives him a cocky grin. “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” She’s holding his head in her hands, her fingers smoothing his unruly curls off his face. “It’s just a few photos. It isn’t everything.”

It isn’t everything. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then leans down to kiss her gently. It’s just an innocent peck, but the feel of her soft lips against his is enough to ground him.

Jeff clears his throat awkwardly. 

They break apart with embarrassed smiles. “Sorry,” Harry says, but he isn’t really.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, sounding uncomfortable. “You’re going to have to make a decision soon, because we’re really cutting it fine.”

Harry looks at Y/N, who nods. 

He turns back to the phone. “Don’t worry about it,” Harry says. “Let them ask the questions.”

“Yeah?” Jeff asks. “Okay then, that saves me a load of trouble. Good luck, man. Enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, hanging up with a sharp tap on the screen. He turns around to Y/N with a grin on his face. “Where were we…”

Y/N giggles as he gathers her into his arms, pulling her in close for a kiss that no one else can see or hear, a kiss just for them. When she pulls back to breath, he peppers his lips all over her face until she’s squirming away—“Harry, that tickles!”

He lands one last kiss on her cheek before his gaze lands on the time display on the oven behind her, which tells him he has ten minutes before he needs to be on the Zoom call for the interview. 

She notices the sudden shift in his demeanour and glances behind her to see what caused it. She turns back around. “I’ll sit with you.”

He nods. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”

“It’s Harry Styles!” the presenter cries. 

“It’s me! Hello, hello,” he says, waving at the screen. The laptop is set on the coffee table and he’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he grins at the screen. “How are ya?”

“Oh, we’re wonderful,” the presenter replies. “More importantly, how are you? Looks like you had a big night last night, judging by these photos we’re seeing!”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Big night,” he echoes, dragging out the word. 

The presenter laughs. “Sounds like a great time. Well deserved after this masterpiece of an album. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like you’re quite close with somebody there. Would you explain what’s going on here, Harry?”

Harry peers at the photo displayed on his computer screen, even though he knows exactly what it will be. The one they chose is a sweet one, with Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck and kiss that he seems to be melting into. He can’t suppress his smile at that. “Oh, well,” he says. “That’s my friend Y/N.”

The presenter raises his eyebrows at that. “Good friend, is she?”

Harry glances up over the laptop to look at Y/N, sitting on the other couch, her cheeks pink and round from her smile. Harry surreptitiously reaches his arm towards her, out of frame, and she leans forward to hold his hand. 

“She is. She’s a lovely girl.” He squeezes her hand. “Yeah, we’re very good friends.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you so much for reading! this fic is based on a request from @kissmyaxe140 — i really intended this to be a shorter blurb of a few hundred words, but i’m incapable of brevity. apparently. this grew into a little monster but i rlly had fun writing it!! the title is a lyric from secret life by bleachers.

if you liked this fic, a reblog and/or any kind of feedback would be very much appreciated. my masterlist can be found here and you can send me messages here. have a gorgeous day!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Reckoning

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst, violence, death, trauma.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: Promise I’ll update the masterlist today but here we are, we’re finally at the end. We’re saying goodbye to Bucky, Luka, and reader in this one. We’ve come a far way. This was one of the first series I started on here. It started as a one shot about the asset being the scariest but you guys turned it into something more, so thank you. (also that’s three endings in less than a week :))

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

You played with the leather strap around your thigh as you sat in the rattly train car. The freight was much like the one that saw you away from your prison so long ago and the same man sat with you, huddled behind the metal barrels and wooden crates. 

Your eyes rolled inside their lids as you thought of your son and his innocent voice as he sang his goodbye to you. Luka didn’t know you might not come back. It broke your heart to think you might not but you couldn’t let James face Hydra alone. He hadn’t let you.

Your hand settled over the gun strapped to your leg, another holstered against your chest beneath your jacket. There was a knife at your ankle and another at your belt. You were ready but you weren’t. How could you ever be ready for any of this?

“We’re almost there,” James whispered as he shifted beside you, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I…” you opened your eyes and tore your hand away from the gun, “ready.”

He nodded and got up to his feet, squatting behind the cargo as he pulled you up into a similar crouch. He checked your weapons then his own. He looked at you again and his lips thinned into an anxious line.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I have to be,” he answered and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand then pulled him to you to peck his lips. He always seemed so meek when you touched him but he was softening.

“We are ready, James,” you assured him as much as yourself, “for Luka, we have to be.”

“You follow my lead. You can’t hesitate, understand?”

“I know,” you said, “I won’t. Those men, what they did to you… to us, they can never have our son. Never.”

“Never,” he echoed and turned. 

He kept low as he crept around the boxes and you followed. He unhooked the door and let it slide open with a loud grind. He reached back until you grabbed onto his arm and he stared at the moving ground.

“Up ahead, the bushes. You first, I’ll be right after you,” he said.

“I remember,” you said, “I know where we are.”

He looked at you and you let out a breath as you readied for your jump, “I lived close to here… with my mother.”

“Oh,” he uttered and went quiet.

“Come on,” you stood but kept hunched as you prepared to roll on impact, “this is about ending the past, not reliving it.”

He counted down and you leapt as the bushes thickened. You landed and rolled through the branches and dingy leaves. You heard him thumped down not far from you as you gulped the air. He was up before you and came to stand over you and offered his hand to get you to your feet. Despite it all, you barely felt the crash to earth.

“So you know where we are,” he said, “so you know where we go first.”

You pushed your shoulders back and sniffed. You said nothing and marched past him. He ran to catch up to you and you walked into the thin skeletal line of trees. He fixed the long bag on his back that held his rifle as his boots crushed the twigs and stones.

“Are you sure you’re--”

“What do we need from there?” you asked, “we get it and we go on.”

“Anything that’s left,” he replied.

You kept on, the terrain turning uneven and soon you were in the rocky passes that brought back bloody memories. That night with Luka in your arms as you walked in the boots of a deadman. You shuddered and kept on. You unholstered your gun as you got closer and James caught your shoulder before you could outpace him.

“I take the lead,” he warned, “you gotta slow down. You can’t just run in there and--”

“If there are any left, I will put them all down,” you swore as your hand shook, “you can’t understand. I have anger in my veins like none I’ve known before.”

He stared at you a moment and thoughts drew his brows together. His lips parted before he found the words, “and what else do you feel?”

“Certain,” you said, “that this will be over soon.”

He lowered his chin and puffed, his breath forming a cloud in the chill air, “this post is abandoned. They couldn’t have stayed after what happened but you stay alert and you point your gun at anything that moves.”

You nodded and he patted your arm. He turned and took the path ahead of you, the trail thinning out the further you got into the low mountains. As you approached the metal doors, he slowed and aimed his gun at the facade of the hidden compound. Rocks clattered beneath his boots and you brought your own weapon up in nervous expectation.

The doors were slightly open and he kicked one open, quickly poking his muzzle inside. He waved you on and you continued down the concrete hallway. The place was cleaned out but the bloodstains remained, painted across the floors and walls.

He led you down the corridors and checked each room as you waited without, watching each end of the hallway as he cleared the place. The further you got, the more the forlorn nostalgia took over you. You felt off, you felt every drop of blood coursing through you and the hot fury mingled with helpless sadness. You felt entirely weak but so powerful

When you got to the heart of the structure, you stopped and watched as James hesitated in turn. He braced himself and went forward into the eerily familiar room. The computers were smashed and the rusty medical equipment littered the floor. The glass chamber they used to keep him in bore the destruction of his escape and he went to it and peered inside.

You flinched as he broke away the last of the glass with his metal fist and quickly retreated. He was shaking as he began to tear open the filing cabinets, the locks cracking at the force of his intrusion.

You walked along the wall and slowly faced the windowed room. The bed was still there and the sparse furniture of your former existence. Your mouth fell open as your eyes tingled with tears. Those early days when you waited, when you dreaded his visits, when you watched him through the glass and wished for death.

You winced as he came up beside you and gently touched your arm. You looked at him and flicked away the moisture in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said and his cheek twitched in pain, “I’m so sorry--”

“James, I know it wasn’t you,” you said, “I don’t cry because of you, it is because of them.” You took his hand and squeezed it, “did you find anything?”

“A few things but not what we’re looking for,” he said, “this place is abandoned. Whatever was left of… the experiment has moved.”

“And we know it will be where we’re headed?”

“Stark’s intelligence suggests it will be and… from what I can remember, it’s likely. Bigger than this place. They took me there in the early days.” He cleared his throat and looked around, “we’ll keep going until dawn. We will find somewhere close enough to rest and then…”

“And then we finish this,” you let go of his hand and moved past him, “James, I’m ready. I really am.”

✰

After some hours in a half-burned hut, you were wired. You ate rations under the open roof before you set out again. You hadn’t slept much as you and James took turns on watch. You stretched and went out into the wild and winding paths.

You climbed the steep incline of and followed the crumbling trail. As you got higher, it got colder but you hardly felt it as adrenaline surged in your approach. You ducked down as you walked along a crooked ledge and hopped off to hide behind a tall stone outshoot.

You looked down at the monstrous gates of the compound. You laid flat as James fixed the scope on his rifle and peered through the lens. He bit his lip as he adjusted his sights before he pulled his eye away.

“I can get the guards but we have to be quick after.” He nodded behind you, “down there. Quick. Gun out and ready. I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can do this, James.”

He lined up his gun again and inhaled. He took his first shot, the noise muffled by the long silencer. Several others followed before he stood quickly and hung the gun from his shoulder. He pulled you up and you ran to the decline that led between the sharp walls of the mountain.

He was a few steps back as you made you way down the treacherous natural steps and slid down the last few. You slipped to your knees as voices sounded from the gates and James fired again.

You got up as he latched onto your elbow and continued forward. He reached to his belt and unhooked a grenade, throwing it at the gates as you ran behind him. You hung back as the metal gates shook with the blast and he directed you forward with two fingers.

As you reached the rent in the doors, he stopped and took two more shots. Men fell into the cold dirt and you raised your gun to take your first. You remembered all those hours of training though you never truly knew how useful they would be. It was always a precaution, always a what if, now it was your life or death.

You pulled the trigger and another man crumpled. You kept close to James and picked off the last few men outside the installation. A sudden siren began to whine as you neared the open doors and you could guess that one of the guards had fled inside to warn all those within.

James directed you inside and as you made your way down the corridor, you stopped at the end and listened. You couldn’t think of the hammering of your heart or the thought of the death at you fingertips. You could only think; left or right.

“We need to separate,” you said.

“No, you can’t--”

“This place is too big, I’ll slow you down and you’ll slow me,” you insisted, “I’ll go right.”

“No, we have to--”

“You showed me, James. I know what to do. I know what we need. We have our rendezvous. We know what happens if we do not get there.”

He shook his head and sighed. You heard footsteps.

“We have to go,” you said and before he could argue further, you raised your gun and ran around the corner.

The first man hit the wall after the bullet entered his chest, the second fell over him with your next shot, and the third slumped against the next corner. You heard James’ boots and his own shots as they flew in the other direction. You pressed on and reloaded before you took the next turn.

Your pulse filled your ears and kept you going. Everything felt so clear, so visible, so loud. You saw and heard it all. It was almost as if you knew what would happen before it did. You’d never felt this level of clarity.

You went deeper into the maze, bodies littered in your stead as others fled, those in white jackets, those like the men who’d tortured you. You followed them, they would lead you to what you needed.

A man surprised you as he lunged from a doorway. He slammed you into the wall and your gun fired into the ceiling. You kicked him and he grunted and you grabbed his arm as his hand stretched over your throat. Without pause, without thought, you twisted his arm and he screamed in agony as both his wrist and elbow snapped.

You shoved him away and finished the work with a bullet. You stared at his arm as the shock sunk in. How could you have done all that? It hadn’t felt like anything at all, like bending a toothpick.

You didn’t have time to linger as another appeared and you fired again. Warm blood spattered your front as your legs kept pushing through. You came to a large room but bullets preceded you. 

You peeked inside, James was already there. A flurry of men were engaged with him, those in camouflage and those in white. You downed two men before your gun was kicked from your hands. You grunted and ducked under a punch you didn’t even see was coming, you just knew. You reached to your belt and freed the long hunting knife.

The blade tore through the man's flesh like water. The sickly glide of the metal sickened you and the flood of warmth down our arm churned your stomach. You couldn’t stop, even as your fear rose, even as you realised the destruction you wrought.

Another man, this one broken by a kick that sent him into the wall. Your strength startled even you. You heard James and looked around. He was on his back, barely kicking away his attackers as he aimed desperately with his pistol. 

You broke through the wall of man, shoving them to the side so that they flew back into the machinery all around. You threw your knife at a man as he aimed at James and you wrenched back another and twisted his neck until it cracked. The third you broke over your knee.

You rolled away from them and freed the gun at your chest; one, two, three, four. They all fell dead at the pull of your trigger. James stared at you and sat up. He raised his gun as your own was too slow and you felt an arm around your neck, the pointed tip against your chin.

“Don’t,” the man warned as his white sleeve scratched at your throat, “she dies.”

James kept his aim steady as he got to his feet. The man choked you and pulled you a step back.

“Drop the gun,” he ordered in Russian. You gulped and tossed it down as the metal cut into your flesh just a little, “ah, always thought you would be back. Always expected it.”

“Let her go,” James said, “you can’t--”

“That is the problem, you see? The human emotion dampens the serum. We don’t need the mind, only the body--”

You were quick. You slid your hand up under the knife and fell to your knees, taking the man with you as the blade dug into your fingers. The shot knocked him off of you entirely and the knife fell free, your blood pouring down your hand. You sat back on your heels and reached for your gun with your uninjured hand.

“We get the files and get out,” James helped you up, “more will be coming.”

He drew you past the corpses and began to search the desk and cabinets. He took a black folder and you helped break open several of the computers to remove their hard drives. He packed it all into the compact pack on your back and zipped it up.

He shot past your head as more soldiers appeared. He nudged you forward and yelled, “come on.”

You raced away from the east wing and barrelled down the winding corridors, following the trail of bodies left by your entrance. You added several more to the floor until you reached the front door. Gunfire followed your departure, met only in defensive retreat.

You carried on past the gate and into the rocky impasse. A sudden blast shook the ground and James caught your arm and urged you on. You didn’t look back as the shots faded into thundering booms and bangs.

You kept on until you couldn’t hear the carnage, until it was silent but for the whistling of the mountain air, until the adrenaline was gone and your hand seared with pain, the rest of the unnoticed aches rising to the surface. 

James stopped you and pulled you into a dark cave. He fished out his flashlight and little up the stony walls as he led you further inside. He pushed his head back and took a breath and he let the flashlight rest on its side and cast a plume over the dark space.

“We have to bandage your hand before we press on,” he said, “we get to the bottom at nightfall and keep going.”

“What was that?” you asked as he pulled out his aid kit from his pocket.

“My orders were to burn that place to the ground,” he said, “lucky the blast didn’t take the whole mountain down.”

He took your hand and wiped your fingers clean before he wrapped them in gauze. You were silent throughout as your heart slowed and you had a moment to think.

“James, what--” you blinked and looked down as he moved around you to unzip your bag, “I’m not mad. What was that?”

“No, you’re not,” he said as he pulled the folder out of the bag and went back around you, “it’s why we need to burn these.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He handed it over silently and retrieved his flashlight. He held it over the folder as you opened it. Your picture was at the front of the pile of papers, several signed by Ilyich, detailing the progression of your pregnancy. There were several explaining how the growth of the enhanced fetus affected the carrier. How the serum seemed to have molded with the DNA of the subject.

You looked up at James and frowned. It couldn’t be. 

“You never noticed before and I never wanted to make you,” he admitted, “I thought you would hate to be like me and that would be just another thing I did to you.”

“James…”

“I know, it was the soldier but it still feels like me,” he took the folder from you and closed it. “So I will keep you from one misery in this life. We destroy this now and when we reach the rendezvous, I delete any of that from those hard drives.”

“What do you--”

“We’re going back to Luka,” he said, “they can’t know because they will want to know more. They will want to try it again. Doesn’t matter if it’s Hydra or Stark.”

You nodded and he dug out his lighter. He lit the first page and watched it wilt into ash. You sat on a flat rock and rubbed your gloved hands together. You watched him burn the file a sheet at a time.

“I was reading about Canada. There was a program on the TV Luka was watching,” you said as added the last page and he stood, “what do you think? A nice little house for us. I hear it snows there. I love the snow.”

He clapped off his hands and reached for you. He drew you up and zipped your jacket up to your chin. He framed your face and smiled down at you in the glow of the flashlight hooked on his hip, “If you’ll be there, it sounds wonderful.”

✰✰✰

END

Thank you again for all your patience and support with this series. I’m sad but happy to be done. Let’s all imagine Luka getting to sled with Bucky up in the Great North and be at peace.