#but the people I meet along the way keep me strong enough to move forward

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

[its-time-to-write]

hi i love your work.

can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy

you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.

I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂

sinking into your worn out mattress

It’s the same routine every day.

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.

You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.

You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.

You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 

“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”

She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 

But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.

—

It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  

It’s stressing you out.

How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?

Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 

“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”

You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”

That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.

She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”

Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.

—

Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.

“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”

Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”

At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.

“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 

You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.

“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”

You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.

“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.

“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”

Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”

She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 

The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 

“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”

Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”

You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”

She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.

“Probably since before I moved,” you say.

“And when was the last time you saw your family?”

You begin to see where she’s going.

“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”

Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”

“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”

Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”

It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”

“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”

You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”

—

Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 

You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 

You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 

You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 

“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”

It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.

“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”

Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.

“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”

“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.

She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.

“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”

Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”

You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.

“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.

“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”

“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.

“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 

Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”

You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.

“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”

Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”

That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.

—

It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.

Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.

But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 

Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.

And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.

—

You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 

You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.

You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 

“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”

You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.

“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”

You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.

Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.

“Mint,” he says.

—

“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.

“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.

“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”

What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.

“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 

“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”

“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 

“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”

You say thanks and hang up. 

Oh.

—

You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 

There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.

“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.

“How’d you know where I live?”

Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

“And why are you here?”

You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.

He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”

You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”

His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.

“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”

You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 

You can feel his breath when he pulls away.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”

“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.

—

You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.

“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”

You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.

Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.

You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.

Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.

—

“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 

You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 

“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”

Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”

You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 

You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 

“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 

You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.

—

It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 

You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.

It’s Jamie.

The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 

“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”

He can feel tears on his neck.

“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”

You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.

Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 

“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.

You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.

“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.

“Are you dyin’?” he asks.

“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.

“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”

“Mental,” you agree.

Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 

He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.

You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”

Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”

“No you don’t,” you say.

“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”

You’re at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”

[paperstorm]

Thank you for the tags @honeybee-taskforce @tommy-kinard-buckley @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom

Have a Work Is Published Wednesday for the newest Missing Moment

“I’m sorry I bit your head off, earlier. I’m sorry I said she could come here, I should’ve told my dad to just put her in a hotel room and stay with her himself. He attracts unstable people, he always has, it’s his damn hero complex. I should’ve – ”

“Hey,” Carlos says softly, twisting at the waist so he can brush his knuckles along TK’s cheek. It isn’t until he does that TK realizes there are tears on his face. “If I’m not allowed to make this my fault, neither are you.”

He brushes his thumb underneath TK’s eye, and TK sniffs wetly.

“Okay?” Carlos presses gently.

“Okay,” TK agrees. It’s wishful thinking more than it’s an outright lie, but it doesn’t feel truthful either way.

Carlos leans forward to rest their foreheads together. He cups TK’s face in his hand, placing a kiss next to his nose and sharing breath with him. TK lets his eyes fall closed and tries not to let the tragedy swirling within him make him feel like he’s in a freefall and even Carlos’s strong hands and warm heart aren’t enough to stop him from crashing bloody into the pavement.

After a while, Carlos kisses him again and then extradites himself from TK’s embrace so he can stand. TK watches in curiosity as Carlos moves in the direction of the bathroom, expecting him to close the door of it behind himself but frowning when Carlos doesn’t and then comes back out with something in his hand.

Carlos sits back beside him. Holding TK’s sobriety chip up between his thumb and forefinger, he requests, “Can I keep this?”

TK blinks at him and doesn’t understand. It’s meaningless, now. Mere hours ago it had been the most important thing he owned, and now it’s a trinket with less value than the cost of the metal. “Why?”

Shifting in a little closer, Carlos lets it settle on his palm and holds his hand out where TK can see it. “Because you worked hard for it. Because I loved you so much the day you got it. Remember that? I picked you up from your meeting before we went to your party.”

“I remember.”

“Remember how you dropped it in that parking garage, like a breadcrumb for me to know you’d been there?”

TK nods.

“I could’ve lost you that day. And it’s because of this that I didn’t.” Carlos closes his fist around the small coin. “I will respect it if you want to say no. We’ll throw it out and you can get to work tomorrow earning another one, if that’s what you want.”

TK bites his lip. “But?”

“But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep this one.”

With stinging eyes, TK shrugs a shoulder and mumbles, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.” Carlos slips the chip into his pocket and then pulls TK gently into his arms. TK slumps against his solid chest, both of them smelling of old sweat and hospital antiseptic. The warmth of him soaks into TK’s tired bones and his shoulders tremble as more tears fall.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos

@tailoredshirt @goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @chaotictarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom

@whatsintheboxmh @inkweedandlizards @bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee

@never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng

@fallout-mars @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @safeashousespdf

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[talaofthevalley]

Another one for the Yu-Gi-Oh ask meme! I'm going to be super basic but consider it fair retribution, because I'm STILL NOT DONE answering your ask :') (What have you done, what monster have you unleashed.)

So, your turn for Yusaku/Playmaker!

Looking forward to the reckoning >: D

YUSAKU MY BOY YUSAKU!

Why I like them/why I don’t Yusaku is just.... great. He's so great. He's an awkward teenager in real life and a cyber vigilante at the same time. He's so emotionally mature compared to pretty much everyone around him. One of Yusaku's biggest safety nets for not being Playmaker is no one would believe Playmaker is a teenager. One of the few protagonists who didn't need the power of friendship to get through his show because he's strong enough on his owns, and in a way he is the power of friendship here. It's just that the people he's deemed important and is shown to be important to him all oppose him at some point. And because Yusaku is one of the strongest duelists in all of Yugioh it's like throwing themselves at a brick wall in hopes of breaking it. And he's just genuinely so damn cool? His comebacks in duels are so fun to watch, because the show is full of people who think they can outsmart him and be the one to defeat Playmaker. But they all fail, and realise Playmaker was thinking much further ahead than they were. And it's so satisfying. And he can be so extremely savage with his lines, it's so funny.

And like I dunno if this is a unpopular opinion (and honestly... don't care much if it is), but I relate to Yusaku's reluctance to make friends and get along with people. And I know that's in part because of his PTSD, but even after he starts moving forward post-S1, he's still not gungho about making friends. It reads to me like while he wants connections with people, he's not desperate for it, and won't buckle at the slightest hint of friendlyness from others. He's not so starved for connection he'll get attached to anyone who is nice to him. And that can absolutely be part of his trauma! Just saying I relate to it, as someone who has never been starved for friendship even when I had none near me.

What I like about their appearance I like his hair colours a ton, and how vivid his eyes are. I find it so funny but fitting his casual outfit is just a pair of jeans and a black hoodie. It's so teenage boy of him.

The Playmaker design is one I know people are split on, especially the hair, but personally I love it. The colours give him an almost retro feeling to me, with the dark green and black with splashes of yellow, then the bright colour of his hair. The styling of his hair looks So cool to me, almost like he's exploded from the inside out and letting his emotions out with them, since he's so emotive as Playmaker compared to real life. The yellow line over the suit and the four spaces on his hand that glows when he uses his skill is just perfect design.

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? No change! Yay.

OTP Datastorm my beloved-

NOTP Aiballshipping. And I mean specifically romantic, cause I do like them queerplatonic.

OT3 Again, polycule with Yusaku/Ryoken and queerplatonic Yusaku/Ai.

Favourite card they use Firewall Dragon, to be basic again. It's got such a kickass design, and I love the possible methaphors involved with one of Yusaku's ace monsters being themed around a firewall, something to keep harmful viruses and programs out to protect the system it's on. It's Neat. It's also got a funny beak mouth that looks so silly when open.

Favourite moment they were in Gosh I have so many-

Okay so I don't know if it's The Yusaku moment I love the most, but it's one that I think about a lot. During his second duel with Bohman, when Playmaker is accused of being an AI who stole Bohman's body and that he's not the real Fujiki Yusaku, what Playmaker uses as proof that he is the real one is-

his meeting with Ryoken when they were young.

Like- to put aside the shipping for a moment, because I won't deny that plays a part and that I'm biased, how interesting is it that this is what Yusaku deems important enough to justify his whole existence? To prove he's real? It speaks of a kind of personal understanding, but also of a great emotional part of himself despite how stoic and no-nonsense he appears. Yusaku is actually a very emotionally drive person, it just doesn't come off that way because he's so levelheaded and mature. He doesn't use logic here for why he's the real Fujiki Yusaku, or any holes in Bohman's memory. It's about the bond he shares with Ryoken. He sees this meeting and Ryoken leading him to the experiments as part of Ryoken's guilt, why he began talking to Yusaku while he was held captive.

It's this connection to Ryoken, the binding proof someone was affected by Yusaku's imprisonment, that makes him sure he's the real one even when he admits no one can tell for sure if their memories are real or not. Ryoken wouldn't have reacted and said the things he did in S1 if they didn't have this connection. It's an answer rooted staunchly in emotions coming from a character who on the outset does not appear to think that way, but it's proof he does. And it's kind of beautiful. Despite what people say, Yusaku is painfully, wonderfully human.

Least favourite moment My perfect boy has done nothing wrong ever in his life-

[eaingels]

Until I found you Part 1

Summary: Eloise, a human with Fae ancestry, moves to the Night Court in hopes of finding out where her family came from and why they left. Trough-out her search for answers, she meets the witty, brave and handsome Cassian. Even though, she thinks that she isn't worthy of affection, she can't help but crave his.

Authors note: hello everyone this is my first ever post here, so I hope you like it. English is not my first language so bare with me please. This will discuss topics like being self body shaming and having low self-esteem. If you are not comfortable reading about it, please don't read it. Please leave a comment so I can improve my writing.

Hope you enjoy it!!

"ppfpft" I tried getting the hair out of my mouth while crossing the bridge over the Sidra. There was so much wind today, I regretted my decision of not grabbing a hair tie with me. People around me gave me weird looks as I tried to get a hold of my hair before I gagged on it. I kept walking over the stone bridge hoping that once I was surrounded by buildings the wind would die down. My wishes were granted, I was past the bridge and my hair was done choking me for now. My mind turned to my impending visit to the library and my request to visit the library in the House of Wind. I was so close to finding my ancestors, I could feel it. Almost three thousand years ago some Fae moved from the Night Court to my hometown. And it wasn't until my grandfather and I started digging into our past that we were able to find a connection with the Fae and our family tree. A shred of grief that had found it's home in my stomach rose up of the memory of my grandfather. He had been my best-friend and had never judged me for wanting to have more knowledge. So when he passed away, I made a promise to myself that I would get to the bottom of it.

The big oak doors leading into the entrance hall of the library stood open, inviting everyone to come a take a look. The library itself wasn't too busy, but busy enough for there to be a line at the help desk. I looked around while waiting for my turn when I suddenly heard a loud laugh coming from inside the library. Two men and a woman were walking out the library. Both men had huge black wings at theirs backs and some kind of leather fighting gear on. The woman on the other hand, had glossy blond hair and the finest clothes I had ever seen. She was slim and absolutely gorgeous. Just looking at her made me wrap my coat around my torso to hide myself. Like anyone would notice me. It's like my mother always said, I blend in with the background. Nothing special to look at. I looked at the two men again. One was taller than the other with longer hair and the other had shadows flying around him. It was the taller one that I heard laughing. He was absolutely gorgeous. The kind of man you would read about in the books, the handsome, strong and kind man sweeping the herion of her feet. A spark starting burning in my chest. I had always dreamed of finding my handsome, strong and king man that would sweep me of my feet, but than again I wasn't anything remarkable. The spark in my chest died.

"Can I help you miss?" a soft female voice asked me. I turned forward again. In the time that I had been staring the line in front of me had gone.

"Sorry, yes, uhm... I'm looking for registration records dating back at least three thousand years ago" I said to her. Her eyes widened a little bit.

"I'm not sure if the records we keep here date that far back, but you could try in section four." Not feeling very hopeful I thanked the woman and made my way to section four. Section four was all the way at the back of the library in a dark corner. Clearly no one visited this part. The dusk caking the shelves was evidence of that. I took my coat off, throwing it on a dust covered chair along with my bag and got to work.

Time flies when you are having fun, or so they say. I looked back at the clock every once in a while to mark my progress. It had been three hours since I started looking through the books and so far I had found one name to add to the family tree. It was an exciting discovery, because it proved my ancestors did come from these lands. I was standing on the third bottom shelf trying to get a book trom the the top when my foot slipped and I lost my balance. I was prepared to let myself fall like a whale as there was nothing I could hold on to to save myself, when I felt two warm hands catching me. I looked up to find the handsome winged man from earlier starring down at me.

"It's been a while since a female threw herself at my feet" he said with a large grin on his face. My face must be red like a tomato, because he grinned even wider as he helped me stand.

"I didn't throw myself at your feet" I replied. I hoped he didn't think I did that on purpose. The man was almost two heads taller than me so I had to crane my neck to look at his face. What I saw took my breath away. Tanned skin, deep brown eyes and a couple of faint scars marking his face and neck.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked. I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I looked at his wings. Huge black membranes that were folded neatly on his back so they wouldn't bump into things.

"You are human" he suddenly said. The man looked surprised almost like he'd never seen a human before.

"Yes I am. But I listen to the name Eloise."

"Nice to meet you Eloise. My name is Cassian." We shook hands. His so much bigger than mine. "Do you need help with something?" Cassian looked up at the shelve I was, trying, to reach for.

"I was just trying to get that volume down" I pointed to the last book that might hold some information. With a smile Cassian grabbed the book from the shelve and gave it to me.

"Thank you Cassian" I said and walked back to my table. I was so engrossed in the book that I hadn't noticed Cassian sitting in the chair across from me. He himself held a book in his hands one leg crossed over the knee. I smiled at the picture.

"Good book?"

Cassian looked up.

"Very good"

"Quite an impressive skill reading upside down". Cassian grinned and placed the book he was holding upside down on the table. "Can I help you with something Cassian?"

"I'm just waiting to see if you need help with shelving the book". I looked at the open book in front of me. It was a stretch that something would be in here anyway.

"This is not going to tell me something. So might as well put it back" I closed the book and gave it back to Cassian, who took it back to it's place. Meanwhile I got my jacket back on and put my bag across my shoulder. Somehow I dreaded having to leave this place and him.

"Thank you for your help" I told Cassian when he returned to the table. The red stones on the backs of his hands shone in the warm light making them look like rubies as he rubbed his hands together.

"Anytime". His brown eyes held this softness I had never seen before. I made me relax a bit, a very strange feeling so I shook my head a bit. I needed to stay focused.

"Good day Eloise" he said and walked away. Something in the back of my head told me I was going to see him again very soon.

Like for part 2!!

[ladypiscesmoon]

Hello everybody, hope you are all well on this Monday! We’ve got rain over here so Summer is far away at the moment. Ever since I saw the film Call me by your name, I’ve been reading for Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer. Their bond is very strong an special. It’s no surprise my first reading here will be a reading for Armie, ft. Timmy. You can say I’m a Charmie, so any hate for the boys will not be tolerated on my page. Remember, all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The reading was done on 24 July

Reading Armie, 24 July 2023

Tarot cards:

King of cups (devoted, balanced, intuitive, compassionate, supportive, empath) Someone very devoted to Armie is keeping him balanced. A very supportive male has his back, I think this is Timmy

9 of pentacles (abundance, luxury, self-sufficiency, self-worth) His finances are looking better, with that his self-worth will increase, he wants to do something independent, something useful

King of swords ambitious, fast-thinking, success driven, assertive, focused) He’s impatient, ready for action, ready to focus on work and something useful. Feeling restless (hence the head shaving, maybe?) Sitting around is not good for him.

The chariot (action, success, movement, forwards, control, willpower, determination opposing forces, working towards a goal) Again: wants to move forwards, wants to be working towards a goal. Also something together with Tim I hear, so maybe a project together of some kind

Deck: Kipper

Healthy man(13) (a younger man, good news, also with money matters) Better times are coming for him, also financially. A good period for their relationship, and also jobs wise. All in all better than before.

Great fortune(26) (good luck, new opportunities, in jobs, improvement in relationship) I also pick up Tim doing something for Armie, or doing something with him. Again I hear: together.

Courtship (4) (getting together, seducing) They’re going away together like a weekend or a short trip, they want to meet up, make plans, lots of cuddles - and more -

Main male(1) (important male in Armie’s life) the most important male in Armie’s life is Timmy (aside from his son)

Deck: Fairytale Lenormand

House: with house I feel there is a new house on the horizon for Armiebig enough for the children also now he’s got partial custody. I also pick up he and Tim will try to have a place together but how that will play out with the children is something they have to think about

Birds: minor hiccups, little fights, discussions, but they will figure it out. Plus they like banter and teasing that’s just the way they are together

Stork: something new beginning. In a way Armie starts over again.

Bouquet: lots of happiness. I feel this will be an easier period for Armie although he gets restless. He wants to move things along. He still has lots to figure out.

Deck: Chakra wisdom oracle cards:

Service (sacral chakra) For me: he’s someone always helping, serving, taking care of someone and being there for other people. He’s got to learn to do things for himself too, and learn that he can enjoy that

Destiny (crown chakra) What do yóu want? Take a risk form your own destiny. Now that you have found true love, go for it, together you’re stronger. It’s complicated but so much worth it.

Perception(heart chakra) The heart knows what the eyes can not see. The past is the past, let it be. Upwards and onwards. Allow yourself to feel good. He feels a bit sad at times, but only he can do something about it. Transformation is in the heart. What needs ending in your life? Focus on that. The experience will be richer if you allow it.

Impasse(sacral chakra) he’s a bit blocked, he doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s got to allow himself to heal and to feel loved. Refocus, change direction if necessary. It will be okay in the end.

How are Armie and Timmy doing together (small check-in)

Deck: True love oracle

Connection: working on their connection, relationship

Inner peace: loving yourself benefits your relationship

Sexuality: sexuality blossoms in an atmosphere of trust and intimacy

Yin and Yang: love and friendship. Strive for harmony and balance, through change, reflection and growth.

Maturity: be responsible for your own happiness

Reparenting yourself: free yourself from the past, you are more able to give and receive love in the present

Theirs is still a new relationship (I think they’ve been together in the past, but it wasn’t exclusive until recently. So, they still have to figure out a lot and learn a lot about how to be a couple. Sometimes that’s still a challenge with everything happening around them. But they’re getting better at it.

Deck: love oracle deck

Heart with a key: opening their heart, welcoming love. ‘The one’ realising what he’s got.

Paradise: finding a paradise like situation, happiness, joy, playfulness, enjoying what they have together. After a more difficult time (being apart physically was really hard for Tim) moving forward and being playful with each other/ happy, ‘we against the world.

Stabbed in the back: they had their challenges and difficulties while Armie was away (Caymans, holiday) Tim felt betrayed and blindsided by the pictures with Lisa although he had absolute no right after the PR sham with Kylie, but still he was hurt.

Passion: Insane chemistry, having fun, liking each other equally, sexual thoughts, I think they have plans to meet up soon ( just after the reading Timmy left NY and headed to LA)

How does Timmy feel about Armie

Same deck: love oracle

Passion: see what I wrote above ☺️

Healing heart: healing from heartbreak. He’s slowly letting go, wants to go back to what they had before Armie went on his extended trip, because that was really good. It happened, let it go.

Cassette: replaying events over in his head, he’s got to let go of the past and also still has a little trouble of trusting Armie completely, but he gets better at it and it will be okay in the end.

Stabbed in the back: he really felt betrayed, but was a bit harsh, knowing what he himself has to do for his work and his reputation, so it wasn’t really fair to Armie.

He’ll find the way back, he always does. I feel him being a bit anxious again, also about work. He very much wants to be with Armie and cuddle. Find some peace and some rest. The arguments they have are meaningless and petty if you look at their story together, but like I said I think they like the banter too.

Here ends the reading, I hope you enjoyed and please don’t hesitate to ask me any question about it!

*Alleged For Entertainment Purposes Only

[teakookssi]

Before I Leave You [Eren/Levi x Reader FF]

[ full story can be found here or here ] [Overview & prologue] ➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader  ➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst ➺warnings: violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s aot for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (: 

chapter 13: one way ticket to hell pt 2

When you finally arrive at the Karanes station half an hour later, you exit the train with Eren following closely behind. Bear back in your bag.

The Northlake Garden Park is a short ten minute walk from the train station and though you hardly come across anyone during that time, the streets are poorly lit and unfamiliar that it has Eren looking around nervously and flinching at any sudden movement over his shoulder.

By the time you reach the park’s entrance, Eren’s completely on edge.

He shakes his head beside you. “I don’t like this, Anya.”

But you ignore him and move along with haste, cutting through the open grass towards the area you know Cas frequents.

There’s still people out for evening strolls, and for the most part they never get close enough to interact. It’s only when Eren has to steer you out of a joggers path after Eren notices him approaching you far too closely than he’s comfortable with that his anxiety hits its peak.

“What are we doing here?” he hisses angrily through gritted teeth after the jogger runs past.

“I’m meeting a friend,” you answer simply.

“What kind of friend?”

“A very important one,” is all you offer him before ultimately coming to a complete stop.

Cas and his nanny stand in the middle of the kid’s favorite bridge looking out over the lake. The two undercover cops assigned to him linger at the bottom of the bridge a respectful distance away.

Eren doesn’t miss the faint curve of a smile on your face as he follows your line of sight to see what’s got your attention, but Cas is too far away for Eren to make sense of things. For all he knows, he thinks you’re meeting some crime lord, not a lonely eight-year-old child.

You slide your gaze to Eren beside you and extend a hand out in front of him. “Give me the bag.”

Eren studies your open hand for a moment before he does as you say with great wariness. “What are you going to do?”

You nod to the paved pathway behind him. “I suggest you take a walk now.”

You start for the bridge, not waiting to find out if he does as you say, but before you can take a step Eren hastily grabs you by the wrist, holding you back.

“No!” he argues back. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. You can’t just—“

Before he can finish his sentence, you break out of his hold and swiftly twist his arm behind his back. He cries out in a mix of pain and surprise, but your hold does not let up as you hastily shove him forward to pin him behind the closest tree to avoid the attention of Cas’ guards.

“You forget yourself, mate,“ you hiss dangerously into his ear, beyond annoyed. You’ve lost enough time as it is. You’re not about to let this night go to waste because of him.

Eren tries to resist you, using his free hand to push against the bark of the giant oak tree, but you twist his arm further and press his face and chest deeper against the tree to keep him in place.

“There’s a reason people fear me,” you continue with a growl. A reason they call you a messenger of Death. “Don’t make me have to remind you.”

You release him soon after — though none too gently — and leave him behind you to recover behind the oak tree without sparing him a second glance, unwilling to see the kind of expression written on his face after attacking him in such a way.

Once close enough to the bridge, you wave to the blond hair boy before you with Bear prominently in your arms to get his attention. When Cas spots you, his face lights up with joy and quickly rushes over to greet you; his trust in you undeniable.

—

After Cas leaves the park a little while later, Bear is ready for a well deserved nap after entertaining the boy for you without pause. Nestled in your arms, you transfer him over to your canvas bag for him to sleep as you make your way back to where you left Eren last. He waits for you by the oak tree with a sullen look on his face, a hand on the shoulder belonging to the arm you twisted. But you know that’s not the main reason for the grim expression on his face.

From this distance, Eren stood close enough to watch you interact with the boy, so it wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together. He’s seen Erwin Smith before. And his son is the spitting image of him. Yet you don’t say a word to him as you walk past him out of the park in the direction leading back to the train station.

For a while Eren trails wordlessly behind you, but his silence is deafening, and you know he’s too upset to hold himself back for long. So you move with haste and maintain your distance, hoping to be out of town before he causes a scene in the middle of the street.

Reaching the train station some few minutes later, you send Eren away to get a pair of tickets from the ticket booth for the both of you.

But Eren doesn’t move.

When you turn to him, you find him glaring at you with a clenched jaw, clearly hating how casual you’re being despite the wicked plan he now knows you’re planning to execute. And for a split second you think this is the moment where he’s going to turn on you.

But then he lowers his gaze and turns away to do as you’ve instructed. Albeit, tense, and with hands curled into fists at his side.

When he returns, he looks far more wretched than when he left as he stares at the train tickets in his hands. The moment he takes too long to hand over yours, you anticipate his outburst.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t have picked the worst time to do so.

Over Eren’s shoulder, stepping onto the platform a few feet away is a forest-green uniformed copper making his rounds. Knowing they never go on duty alone, you subtly glance behind you to your left where another copper has made an appearance onto the platform.

“Why are you doing this?” you hear Eren demand in front of you, his voice trembling with outrage and completely oblivious to your newfound company. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

Though Eren speaks in an angry tone, his voice does not rise. Still, the copper behind Eren turns to you both in attention.

Shit.

“That’s really none of your concern,” you answer Eren tightly under your breath while trying to calculate all the ways this can play out for you if the train doesn’t get here soon.

As you subtly remove your bag from across your chest, you notice from the corner of your eye the copper behind Eren closing in with heedful steps, watching you with wary suspicion.

You try not to make any sudden moves. The cop is too far away for him to recognize your features. But when you glance back over to your left in search of the second cop, you find you’ve lost track of him. He’s nowhere in sight and you fear he’s run off to call for backup even though he’s most likely scouting the area on the opposite side of the train station.

Despite your lack of attention, Eren continues his ranting. “He’s just a child!” he argues angrily. “He’s innocent! You can’t possibly be capable of something so —”

Just then, a strong gust of wind cuts through the night, blowing through the platform and knocking your hat off your head without warning, revealing your face under the bright lights of the train station.

The main cop recognizes you the moment you lock eyes with him. But the second he reaches for his gun, you hastily shove Eren to the ground and draw out your own, simultaneously dropping your bag with Bear in it onto Eren’s lap.

You shoot before the cop does, but the bastard dodges your bullet in the nick of time.

Refusing to give him time to recover, you continue shooting in the direction he sought cover behind a pillar to keep him in place.

“Stay down!” you shout at Eren over your shoulder before making a run for the other side of the platform to take cover behind a similar pillar.

Once out of the copper’s visible shooting range, you release another round of bullets in his direction. You manage to hit him square in the shoulder, but the cop refuses to go down and continues shooting at you, trying to hold out until backup arrives.

Except, the train to the Founding Sector arrives first, and you curse everything to hell.

The roaring of the train’s engine clashes with the sound of gunshots ricocheting across the station as it comes to a stop at its designated platform. But your attention immediately goes to the front of the train where the conductor resides. The second he looks out and sees what’s going on out here he’s going to cut the time the train waits on the platform and take off, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a gunfight.

Your hold on your gun tightens as you watch from across the platform as the doors open for passengers to board or exit, and you glower back at the cop keeping it out of reach from you.

You need to finish off the bastard now or you’ll never make it back on the train alive.

But as you reach for a magazine from the holster belt at your waist to reload your glock pistol, your hand comes up empty. That’s when you realize: in your haste to keep Eren out of the copper’s line of fire, you left your bag with him and forgot to take the extra set of magazines you’d packed in your bag with you.

Worst yet, the conductor has now realized what’s happening and has hastily begun to move the train out of the station. Eren—who obediently remains crouched on the ground as you instructed, taking cover behind a lamp post across the platform—notices too and he looks to you helplessly, unsure of what you want him to do.

He knows as well as you do this is the last train scheduled for the night. You can not miss this train. Problem is, you’ve already gone through your spare gun; all you have left are the handful of bullets you carry in your revolver.

You glance over at the green uniformed copper taking shelter from behind the pillar across the platform.

It’ll have to do.

Swapping your empty pistol for your revolver, you make sure there’s no other threats around you before rushing into the open clearing, your eyes zeroed in on the cop’s location.

Once he sees you making your way across the platform back to Eren, he wastes no time in attacking. But in doing so, he’s left himself just as vulnerable.

The moment you get a clear shot of him, you trust your natural instincts to keep you out of range from the series of bullets he sends your way, and let Death guide your hand as you release your own set of bullets.

True to your name as Messenger of Death, your bullets aim true—two to the chest and one to the copper’s head. Yet despite neutralizing the threat, you know better than to let your guard down.

A second cop—the one that had disappeared earlier—reappears before you across the station.

With Eren as his target.

“EREN!” you shout in warning just as the cop races towards him and opens fire.

Eren flinches at the gunshot and folds in on himself even further to protect himself, unaware of the threat that had been approaching behind him until the metal bullets started bouncing against the lamppost.

Ignoring the burning sensation in your legs, you quicken your speed to cut across the platform in time to reach Eren. You try shooting at the cop amidst your running, but your revolver draws empty. You’ve run out of bullets.

All the same, you remain undeterred.

Before the copper can turn his gun in your direction, you unsheathe a few blades from under your sleeves and throw them across the station with skilled accuracy. Two of them hit him across the chest while the third pierces his neck.

The cop instantly drops his gun and falls to his knees just a few feet before reaching Eren.

Eyes wide in panic, the cop reaches for the blade protruding from his neck with shaking hands, knowing that if he pulls it out he’ll only bleed to death faster.

Eren stares at him in horror, oblivious to the train in front of him that has begun to pick up speed out of the station.

“Eren, go!” you command sharply to snap his attention away from the dying cop before him. “Get on the train! Now!” But Eren is still stricken with shock and fear. He’s far too disturbed to move or acknowledge anything else happening around him.

So you force him to react to something else.

The cop your blades have pierced remains alive. Coughing up blood and on the floor, but still alive. You cannot leave him like this at the off chance he survives. These cops were on duty making their rounds, and though they may not have been the guards hired to protect Erwin Smith’s son, they recognized you the second they saw your face. If they were to spread word to Erwin that you’d been spotted this close to his son, you’d lose your leverage over him.

Reaching the cop first, you yank him by the back of the hair towards you, eliciting from him a panicked cry as you motion to retrieve the dagger from his neck. His attempts to stop you are weak and futile—the blood stains he leaves on your hands and coat the only signs of his struggle. Eren also realizes what you’re about to do and moves to stop you.

“No! Don’t!” he cries out desperately, a hand extended out towards you to stop. But your eyes are cold and ruthless as you twist the blade sideways on the cop’s neck, and in one clean sweep slit the man’s throat.

Eren flinches as blood splatters on the floor in front of him. Yet your expression remains unfazed as you pull out the two other daggers from his chest and let the cop’s body fall to the ground in front of you with a heavy thump. You then take a spare handkerchief from your coat and wipe them clean before securing them back in their holsters.

Eren stares at the unmoving figure before him in aghast before his expression slowly changes. When he looks up at you again, his eyes are reproachful and unforgiving. As if you’ve committed the worst crime imaginable. As if you haven’t done this hundreds of times before.

You step over the cop lying dead on the floor to cut the space between you and Eren, a hard scowl lining your features. You just saved his goddamn life! How can he have any sympathy for the cop when he had been seconds away from killing him?

“You have yet to see me at my worst, Eren Yeager,” you remind him darkly. You then lean in to roughly take back your bag from him. “If you can’t handle me now, don’t bother coming back.”

Throwing the bag over your shoulder, you turn your back on him and make a run for the train before it can gain anymore speed and disappear completely off the platform.

You make it onboard with ease and start digging for some coins to bribe the conductor with since Eren never actually got to hand you your train ticket. You consider this an excuse to linger by the opening of the door, and not a sign of weakness.

But there’s no one around here to fool except yourself.

The true reason you keep glancing over your shoulder is not because you’re on the lookout for the conductor. You’re on the lookout for Eren, waiting for him to appear in front of the door you just jumped in from.

He doesn’t, of course.

Eren is not meant to follow you into the darkness. Your violent and vindictive nature is not something anyone can control.

Nor do you want it to be.

Refraining from looking back any further, you keep your attention forward.

Bear proves to be a good distraction as he pops out of your bag the second you take a seat in one of the many vacant chairs within the passenger car. He starts meowing at you incessantly, as if reprimanding you for all the noise and rough handling he’s had to endure while traveling inside your bag.

You smile down at him in amusement and nod to his every meow like you understand what he’s saying.

“I know,” you coo at him in agreement, sounding like a mother soothing her weary child. “You’ve had quite the adventure.”

To compensate him for his troubles, you reward him with a generous amount of treats while you pet him in all his favorite spots. In return he purrs loudly against your touch, letting you know you’re forgiven.

A figure approaches from the passenger car connected next to yours a few minutes later, and at first you think its the conductor making his rounds, checking for tickets. But then you do a double take and you’re surprised to find its not the conductor, or any other wayward passenger in search of a seat.

A mixture of emotions run through you at the sight of him before you, but you keep your features composed and try not to overthink what his presence here means.

Sliding the cabin door open to your passenger car, Eren steps inside your compartment.

You regard him warily with narrowed eyes from across the cabin as he makes his way inside, unsure of what he’ll do next since he always seems to end up doing that which you least expect him to do. But his eyes are downcast and he wears a dejected expression on his face that you’re undoubtedly responsible for putting there.

Without directing a word to you, he sits down a few seats opposite you.

The longer he goes without speaking to you, the more anxious you become. Still, you refuse to be the one to break the silence first so you ignore him for the duration of the ride as he does with you.

Reverting your focus back to Bear, you play with him until the feline grows tired and falls asleep in your lap. With the way he’s curled in on himself, completely at ease by your warmth and presence, you almost don’t want to disturb him.

But alas, your weapons need reloading.

Careful not to startle him awake, you scoop Bear up and gently settle him on the seat next to you before you draw out your weapons. Your hands move with skill and precision as you reload your firearms with the magazines in your bag, enjoying the satisfying click they make at the end when they’re fully armed and ready. Leaving your revolver for last, you slide its corresponding bullets inside the silver cylinder until all six chambers are loaded.

You sense Eren watching you from where he sits across from you as you do this, seemingly on edge by the noises your guns are making.

Which only confuses you all the more. If he’s so bothered by all this, why did he even come back?

After what seems like forever, Eren finally breaks the silence.

“Who is Erwin to you?” he demands as calmly as he can muster, but given the scowl still branding his features, he is still very much upset. And you have to refrain from flinching by how uneven his voice sounds.

You snap the cartridge to your revolver shut and return it to its holster.

“A dead man walking,” you answer flatly.

Eren’s hands curl into fists at his lap but he forces himself to ask, “Why do you and Levi hate him so much? What did he do to you?”

Images of your home being invaded, your mother dead at your feet, you standing over her grave as they bury her underground, flash before you.

“He ruined me.”

You spin your two remaining firearms on both of your index fingers before crossing your arms across your chest to place them back in the holsters under your arms.

You lock eyes with Eren. “I plan on returning the favor.”

He throws you a scathing look. “By spilling innocent blood?”

“Blood is all I want,” you reply back mildly. “I will fill rivers with it if it means getting the justice I am owed.”

Eren’s frown deepens, appalled. “Justice?” His body turns towards you, eyes ablaze. “Justice is working with the police. With the law. To try and change the system. To end things peacefully. What you want is revenge. That is not the same thing.”

“It is in my world.” You settle back against your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, but though you appear to be reclining, you are wound tight. Your eyes are sharp as daggers as you then add haughtily, “But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Eren stares at you with a clenched jaw, annoyed and frustrated by your stubbornness. But the determined look in his eyes tells you he refuses to give up on you. So he changes tactics. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders sag and his features soften. His tone, pleading.

“I know you’re angry,” he says in a low voice. “I know you’ve been hurt. But—”

“Then you know why the commander must die,” you cut him off irritably. Eren may have a sense of what Erwin had done to you and your family but he did not know the details. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying any of this.

Eren shakes his head. “Not like this.” He rises from his seat and takes ginger steps across the moving train to move closer to you. “Please. You can choose to forgive him. To show him mercy.”

“Mercy?” you repeat with a snarl, leaning forward in your seat. “You think Erwin Smith deserves my mercy?”

“No,” he clarifies hastily, stopping in his tracks. “But you deserve peace. And forgiving him is the only way you can start to heal.”

“It is not in my nature to forgive. Perhaps it had been, once,” you admit with a hint of lament that you are unable to mask from him. “But when my mother died, she took along with her whatever goodness there had ever been in me. I have nothing left.”

Eren shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “You don’t believe that. You can’t—You can’t seriously think this is what your mother would have wanted for you? To live your life solely for vengeance?”

Your siren eyes flash up to him in warning, but Eren presses on. “You think she would be proud of the person you’ve become? I may not have known your mother, but I know for a fact if she saw you now, she would be devastated to see her daughter capable of so much evil.”

“Evil?” You laugh wryly. “Despite what you’re always preaching, mate, I am not the villain in this story.”

Eren narrows his eyes, the desperation visible in his gaze and tone. “If you’re not the villain, then stop acting like one.”

Your eyes crystalize into something dark and dangerous as you regard him with a tilt of the head. “You accuse me of committing atrocities.” You stand and take a threatening step towards him, and Eren—noticing this dark shift in you—wisely steps back. “But nothing I have done can ever measure up to what that bastard did.”

You draw Eren into a corner until the back of his knees hit the seats of the train behind him. With nowhere to move, he unwillingly falls into the seat as you lean forward and raise an arm to grip the back of his seat, not once breaking eye contact with him as you continue.

“Under his leadership, a specialized police force was sent to my family’s home with a search warrant thinking they would find incriminating evidence against both my father and Levi’s father. In their attempt to taking them down, they raided my home. Killing anyone within sight. Innocent lives were caught in the crossfire. Including my mother’s.”

Eren visibly flinches at the hatred in your tone and he starts to turn away, wanting to look away from the intense fierceness in your eyes. But you keep his face in place with a thumb and index finger against his jaw, forcing him to keep his eyes on you. He’s close enough for you to see the shade of green in his eyes glisten against the light of the train like summer leaves in sunlight— bright, bold, and beautiful. But you refuse to let the sight of them warm your heart.

“You still think my wrath misplaced?” you demand icily. “You think it fair for a child of only six to have to watch her mother bleed out to death in front of her?”

Eren works his jaw, hating the direction this conversation was taking, but he says nothing, knowing your question is rhetorical.

“When my father found me covered in my mother’s blood afterwards, shaking with fear… He saw my pain, my grief. And he promised to make things right again. He said he would make everyone responsible to suffer the same way they made us suffer. And he did.”

Eren shakes his head and closes his eyes in a grimace.

“Stop,” he whispers, so softly that if you weren’t as close as you were you wouldn’t have heard him. He tries to move away. “I don’t want to hear this.”

You press a hand over his shoulder, shoving him back down. “What’s wrong?” you ask mockingly. “Is the truth too hard for you to swallow?”

He knocks your arm away and shoves you aside, walking away from you to create some space from you across the passenger car. “You’ve proved your point. You can stop now.”

“Stop? But you haven’t heard the best part! Don’t you want to hear how he did it? How my father hunted down every single one of Erwin’s men that had been sent in to raid our home that day? Don’t you want to hear of all the ways he tortured each and every one of them in the comfort of their own homes and slaughtered their families like they did mine?”

Eren moves for the door with a shake of the head, having heard enough.

“He saved my mother’s killer for last,” you drawl behind him in a sinister tone.

Eren pauses at the door, a hand frozen over the handle as you continue.

“By then, the cop knew what my father was doing, and that it was only a matter of time before he got to him. But when he least expected it, my father made his move and invaded his home, just like he did with us. And oh, did my father take his time with him.”

Eren’s grip on the door handle tightens until his knuckles turn white as a ghost.

“Hours my father spent with him, keeping him just barely alive for him to give my father the information he wanted on Erwin. Then, while his seven-year-old son watched, my father murdered his wife in front of him the same way it was done to me. In the end, knowing the cop would not survive for much longer, my father let the cop live out the last moments of his life wallowing in guilt for all the pain and misfortune he brought onto his family for his actions. When my father left, he said he saw his son crawl to his dying father’s side, but who knows if the kid survived on his own after all that.”

Eren bristles at the mention of the son and turns to you reproachfully.

“Do you even know their names?” he demands, seething. “Do you know the names of any of the people he killed?” His eyes narrow at you accusingly. “Of the people you’ve killed?”

You scowl back and growl through your teeth, “They do not deserve to be remembered.”

Eren looks appalled and turns away to sit at the nearest seat from him, looking defeated and out of strength. Even the look in his eyes has grown dull as he stares at an invisible spot in front of him with a distant, unfocused gaze. You think he’s probably regretting following you back now after all you’ve said to him.

Either way, you leave him to his own thoughts and try to keep him out of yours as you make your way back to Bear who is still curled up asleep where you left him last.

As the train arrives at the Founding Sector’s train station moments later, you glimpse over at Eren who is leaning forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees and his head in between his hands.

It shouldn’t bother you that he looks so miserable, but it does. And you hate it. But you refrain from going to him.

This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. This was the whole point of letting him come along, to show him who you really are. For him to see that you’re really not worth saving and that he’s better off giving up on you.

While you collect your cat inside your bag and move for the door, Eren struggles to his feet. As you get closer you notice how pale he is.

“Oi,” you say coolly, intercepting him at the door. “You don’t look so good.”

But he ignores you and brushes past you, forcing you to watch him go as he stumbles off the train into the deserted platform.

You instinctively reach out to grab him by the arm before he can hit the floor as his legs give out on him, but he slaps your hand away.

“Don’t!” he shouts vehemently, hastily stepping back from you.

Your eyebrows shoot up, startled for a second by the strange look in his eyes, but then he blinks and it vanishes. Before you can question it further, he points an accusatory finger at you.

“You let me come here with you,” he growls at you with reproach. “To witness—” He presses his lips together, his expression pained, as he looks in the direction of where the train just came from. “To push me away.”

Your jaw tightens, but your features remain aloof. Neither acknowledging nor denying anything.

Not that Eren needs you to.

He’s clearly seen right through you, and that’s what has him most upset.

He shakes his head at you when you say nothing, and you hate the disappointment glistening in his eyes when he does.

“You want to go down this path?” he questions with disdain. “Fine. But if you wish to destroy yourself in the process, know that I made an oath to your father. And I plan on honoring it—with my life if I have to.”

He turns and staggers off in the direction of the canals that lead back home without another word.

Your nails dig deep into the palm of your hands, trying to swallow down your rage. But there is no hiding the burning frustration from your eyes. The way you watch after Eren is similar to the way a monster is forced to watch its victim walk away after escaping from its clutches.

This is not the way you imagined this night to go. But quite honestly, when has anything gone according to plan when Eren is involved?

And yet, all throughout the walk back home as you follow closely behind in Eren’s footsteps, you can’t stop thinking about the strange look Eren threw at you when you tried to steady him off the train. It had only been there for a second, but it had been enough for you to recognize the same pure, undiluted loathing that you saw on the faces of your enemies every time they looked your way.

It surprised you then because you would have considered such an intense, hateful gaze out of place in the eyes of someone like him. But when you locked eyes with him, in that brief moment you saw that dark look manifest in those kind, hopeful and passionate eyes you were so used to looking back at you, it did not seem misplaced at all. Rather, these raw emotions of his reflected so deeply within him, it made you believe they had always been there. Hidden behind a curtain that was never meant to be unveiled.

But it has. And now he’s got alarms going off inside your head, telling you to be wary of him even more than before. Because even if you can’t fully read Eren’s true intentions, of one thing you’re absolutely certain of: Eren is hiding something.

A dark secret he’s buried so deep within that even the brightness in his emerald eyes dimmed when you’d caught a glimpse of it trying to break out from its confinement…

Ahead of you, Eren disappears from view as he turns the corner leading down the backstreets of Trost Lane. You proceed after him with an air of casual indifference despite your senses warning you to not lose track of him, to keep him close. Secrets are dangerous—they become a liability, and sometimes, if left unsupervised, can ultimately destroy you.

But you also know that in the underworld knowledge is power. And what Eren doesn’t realize is that in this line of work, secrets are never kept secret for long. One way or another, all hidden truths come to surface.

And his will be no different.

[cynettic]

hi, i hope i'm not bothering you, but i can order a Scaramouche × Kitsune reader, the two met before the vision hunt (and before he was a fatui if you want) the reader was always in the same place, sometimes having a conversation , the good old routine, but with the hunting of visions the reader disappeared not wanting to give up his own vision, and years later a reunion, SFW or NSFW is by your will, thank you, I really admire your work

Summary - Scaramouche met you as a child, growing up with the constant assurance that you would be right there, sitting at your spot where he could meet you with every visit. He isn't happy when you suddenly disappear.

Pairing - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warning - Slight Yandere warnings?

Penpal - Ahhh- hope this is what you were looking for. I couldn't find a spot to put much nsfw unless I considered writing more for the series ( I could, just put a request in if thats what you’re looking for ). But I hope you liked it!! You're not bothering me at all and I'm glad you like my work!

A/N - Alright- so considering that with the 2.1 update with Scaramouche coming in, I just wanna state beforehand that I wrote this prior so I dont know if we learn about his backstory or anything!!

Link for Part 2

Stay With Me

Scaramouche was used to the routine he’d found himself going along with every visit to Inazuma. As a child he’d pass through the wild fields that stretched just beside his hometown, adventurous and curious with all the tenacity of a child.

And of course you, a kitsune that sat perched on the ground awaiting the Kitsune Saiguu, was bound to notice him. Unlike the other earth kitsune statues, you hadnt turned to stone during your wait. Instead, staying in the same place did you interact with travellers and the locals, which included Scaramouche.

“Fox person!” The little boy chanted, pulling at the hems of your clothing. Bright blue eyes bore into your own, and you slowly shifted your head to pay attention to the boy who was on the verge of bouncing on you.

Humming in reply to his excitement, the little boy paused, both of his small hands still tightly clasping the fabric of your clothes. Soft matted hair brushed past his face in a messy manner, calling out the boy for his boundless running and rebellious urge to keep his hair messy despite his parents wishes.

“Play with me!”

Staring at the boy only a moment longer, you simply chuckled at his antics. “I’m afraid I cannot move from the spot in which I dwell~ Perhaps I’ll be able to entertain you if you bring cards?”

But the young boy had made up his mind at the statement to which you couldn't move. A pitiful frown enfluged his face as he cast you the nastiest glare a five year old could muster. “Boring!” He shouted into the distance of the fields, dramatically turning on his heels and bouncing up into a sprint away. You watched his small figure fade away into the background, absentmindedly sighing and returning to your mindless thoughts.

As a child, Scaramouche would pass by you fairly often. Frequent when he asked you to play with him, and storming away with the same expression when you denied him. Nothing out of the ordinary, you’d lived for an exceptional amount of time, and even though grumpy children were not your specialty, you’d grown accustomed to their behaviour.

Growing up, Scaramouche got no better. You soon noticed his violent tendencies before they became an issue, the way the children shied away from him when playing Temari. Hiding in front of a tough exterior, he scared them away and laughed, approaching you later with tearful sob.

“Will you play with me?” He asked again, trying to hide the fact that he still wept when the other children pushed him away.

But your answer stayed the same, helping him wipe his tears and coaxing him into your arms. Not the first time you’d made contact with a human, but the first time you held them in such an affectionate manner.

It was clear Scaramouche was beginning to see you as some sort of pillar of reassurance when he began running away from home to simply ask to be held. You always welcomed him with open arms, urging him to head back to his household and sort things out. There was no harm in simply providing love and comfort for a child who received none was there?

“Now now, hurry back home little one. Your parents must be growing awfully worried if you’re out by this time at night.”

“My parents dont care about me!”

Darkness slowly pooled into the fields, an obscure shade covering the two of you from the tree you were under. Biting back form your normal emotionless statements, you pondered for something to soothe and convince the boy. Misunderstandings and hardships were normal from what youd seen with children, and you could only offer your hand on his shoulder, a promise. “Go back, I promise to stay here if anything further happens. But you shold give them another chance dont you think?”

And so he’d sprint back to his hometown, and you wouldnt hear from him again till he ran up right up to you a few days later. Begging you to play a game with him. The normal you supposed, and with a grin that seemed to stretch wider with every day, you told him the same thing you told him every single time.

“You cant move?!” Scaramouche nearly yelled one time, tiny fists curling at his side. “Thats… thats stupid!”

“It is isnt it?” You only smiled in response.

Unsatisfied with your response, he clawed your arm, pulling you with all his might. Strong, you realized with surprise that he was much stronger than most children his age. Easy enough to tug away from, but strong enough to take you off guard.

Snapping your hand back to your side, you narrowed your eyes. You weren't angry… no, you hadnt felt strong feelings like that after the disappearance of the Kitsune Saiguu. “Do not attempt to move me,” was your curt response, said in the most stern voice you’d used with the boy.

He’d looked at you only a few seconds longer before bursting into tears, turning away and running. You didn't feel regretful for defending yourself, only turning once more with a tired sigh to stare at the distance.

But just as you stayed ageless, Scaramouche grew older. Still, crossing each others pass was inevitable when you sat in the plains, just alongside the path that lead to his hometown.

With a permanent scowl that seemed to stain his face, he still seemed to have mature a tad bit. Maybe hadnt improved in the social department, because he now scared children and adults and alike, but more mature…

“Hm? Whats this?”

Once again, sitting criss cross under the large tree that provided the perfect shade on sunny days, you stared at the boy expectantly. His hands hesitated at your question, but he resumed shuffling. “Cards,” he simply said in response.

A small featherlike feeling flitted across your chest, making you feel lighter and… almost ticklish. A small smile crossed your face, and you recognized the emotion to be one of adoration. For him to have remembered words you’d spoken years ago, it gave you a warmth you’d sorely missed. A warmth akin to watching him and the other children grow up.

“Ew, dont smile like that, its creepy.”

Swatting at his head, he frowned further when you laughed. “You’re more mature,” you pointed out, lazily leaning back. “You need to work on your people skills though, as someone who hasnt moved in years, thats pitiful that I know more than you.”

“Shut it!”

But as he grew up, you hardly got to see much of him. He’d reached your height and then fully disappeared, leaving no goodbye. And much as you hated to admit it, you hardly noticed, not when days passed in a flurry. You were used to being by yourself, entertaining the kids and greeting the people that passed by.

Sometimes, there’d be the reminder of the warmth he’d given you. But it was quickly overshadowed by your duty to remain seated in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. A dedication kept in its earnest, but beginning to dwindle.

Inazuma was beginning to change.

“The vision decree…” you repeated, staring at the traveller who’d mentioned it to you. “Care to elaborate?”

The new archon threatenening to take away visions from every inhabitant of Inazuma. It was preposterous, so much that you didnt move. Your vision meant the world to you, but so did the Kitsune Saiguu. You werent sure just how you weighed the two till you saw civilians passing by you, ones you recognized, ones that didnt recognize themselves.

It was snowing, cold snowflakes melting into your skin while your hair soaked in the water. Unflinching, you hummed to a little tune, awaiting someone to pass you so that you could attempt to strike a conversation of somesort. The unnatural weather distanced all who entered the field though, and you simply waited. For the Kitsune Saiguu, for someone, or for some form of entertainment, you didnt know. You Slowly closing your eyes, you decided not to care.

“Im gone for five years and you’re still sitting here like a dumbass.”

Eyes snapping open, you find yourself face to face with a complete stranger. Dark purple hair with dark blue eyes, piercing and dangerous in a way you dont recognize at all. Fancy clothing that you cant identify or put a name on.

The boy took a step towards you, crouching down to stare at you directly. His eyes scanned over your figure briefly, and he brushed the snow out of your hair and ears with one flick of his hand. In the next, he was offering a coat to you. “Take it, you’re probably getting cold.”

You leaned forward, ignoring the coat he offered you. Gently, you raised your hand to brush the hair from his eyes, centred on the way his pupils widened. Offering a small moment of surprise and one glimpse into the small childlike blue eyed wonder he was. “Kiddo,” you breathed, pulling your hand back and scanning him once again. “You’ve grown.”

“And you havent.”

Snickering at his comment, you took the coat. You didnt need it, but he looked like he didnt either. He was already wearing clothing that kept him warm, and with careful observation and an untouched coat, you settled on the fact that he’d brought it here. Brought the coat here for you.

“Still havent improved with those social skills of yours have you?”

He scoffed, letting himself fall back till he was sitting fully. “I dont want to hear it from someone who refuses to move an inch for years. Lazy ass.”

You open your mouth to retort, but instead laugh at his comment, shaking your head. “Gained some humour on your journeys have you? Bad words too it seems. Anyways...” He had sat down, which meant that he meant fully well to sit, chat, and catch up. That familiar warmth filled your chest, a contrast between the cold snow. “Welcome back.”

It wasnt often that Scaramouche visited Inazuma, but when he did, he was sure to visit you. The two of you would sit down for hours, talking about the most trivial topics. He never mentioned what he did in his time away, and you never asked.

But things began to go downhill when news of the vision decree finally took action.

“Its no joke anymore! The Raiden Shogun has taken custody of almost a hundred visions!”

In that moment you made your decision, weighing your vision over the Kitsune Saiguu. Awfully selfish you knew, but you’d spent decades sitting there in wait.

And for the first time you sat up from your position on the ground, clumsily stumbling upright but gaining balance. It takes a few steps until you’re back to normal, and you begin your journey in order to escape the Raiden Shogun’s vision hunt decree.

_-_-_-_

You didnt expect to see him again.

Long grass tickled at the skin of your legs, making you adjust your footing to no avail. Sun slowly descending past the mountains to mark the start of an evening and the soon approaching night. A normal day of exploring the mountains and islands of Inazuma, observing the constant changing situation, and running away from the vision decree like a favourite past-time.

With the exception of a firm grip on your wrist.

Dark purple like hair, same hate brimmed eyes and lavish clothing. You recognized Scaramouche the moment he had appeared, looking just as surprised as you were. That being before he snatched your wrist and snarled, “You.”

You wouldve considered it pure luck to find him, an unexpected reunion with someone you actually remembered. But no, his tone had some predatorial edge to it that had you cringing. Hard. “Yes, its me.” You answered back with a frown, trying to loosen his hold. “Nice to see you too, is something the matter?”

He only seemed confused at your words, pulling you closer.

“Something the matter?” He asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, to start, you’re not sitting at your damn spot.”

Taken aback for a moment, you wondered if that sole fact was what drove the boy to such lengths. Surely he couldn't be so troubled over the fact that you moved… “The vision hunt decree, I'm sure I mentioned that I was sticking around in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. I decided to wander around and avoid the conflict until I could settle back.”

“You could’ve waited for me,” he stated almost instantly. “I could have protected you.”

You felt your brows furrow quizzically. “Wait for you? Why in the world would I-”

“Why wouldn't I?” He pushed you closer till he could fully grab both wrists, taking a step closer as if his words would resonate clearer in your head. “You took care of me as a child, it would only be fair for me to repay the favour.” But he only seemed to be looking for excuses. “And besides, you can't just up and leave… I didn't know.”

Before you could interject with the obvious answer that he didn't need to know, you stopped. You’d lived decades, nearly centuries if you’d kept count, and you had learned to read people's expressions even when you’d stayed away from them for so long. He didn't know. It hit you in the most unpleasant way that he wasn't aware that it was none of his concern. To him, you were just another thing he needed to keep track of, something he had control over. His face basically screamed, ‘I depended on you to stay in that place.’

Deep breath in and out. You’d lived long, longer than him, you could deal with a child throwing a tantrum.

“Don't worry,” you gestured to the vision ta your side. “I'm strong enough to protect myself, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be back when the vision decree ends.”

Unconvinced, he pulled you closer, just until your faces were mere inches away from each other. “No,” he said in a stern voice. “I’d rather you by my side, where I can protect you. I hate to question what you’re capable of, but you’ve been sitting down for as long as I’ve known you for.”

“I’ve lived decades more than you,” a simple reply, hopefully enough to get by him. You snatched your hands back with ease, ears flinching slightly when a cold breeze swept past you. But you stayed firm, not wanting to look vulnerable against the imposing air he had around him.

Still unconvinced. “You’re coming with me.”

“No I’m not.”

You’d known him as a kid, watched him grow up along with all the other small ones in his hometown. And maybe you admit you cared a smudge bit about the warmth he gave you when settling down to play cards, but he was different. He had changed in the worst way and you weren't about to deal with it.

“So you’re not coming with me voluntarily?” He asked softly, taking a small step to which you responded by stepping back. He had his hands up, as if telling you he wouldn't hurt you. But the way he said voluntarily sent shivers up your spine.

“No.” Hand on your vision, you held your own hand up threateningly.

He took his time when tilting his head, taking a deep breath in, and then appearing in front of you in just a short stride. Too quick to react, you hesitated before you could attack him. You didn't want to hurt him, he was still a child in your eyes, and you paid the consequences for that. He slid his hand just along your neck, and a jolt of electricity seemed to thrum inside you just as you collapsed in his arms.

Scaramouche was quick to catch you, hoisting you up into his arms dearly. “I do hope you’ll come to understand,” he said softly, cradling your unconscious form in his arms. Making sure not to crush your tail when carrying your legs, he looked past the mountains, sigh resting on his lips.

Because Scaramouche liked to have control of the things he held dear. Like keeping all your valuables neat and tidy in a closet, he was happy knowing you were safe and stable in that spot you always sat on.

And he couldn't have you moving could he?

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[adorerdraco]

Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes 

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him. 

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk. 

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?” 

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents. 

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

[sergeantxrogers]

| missed you |

Summary: When Bucky finally got home, you realized you had missed each other more than you thought. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (post TFATWS)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut!!!, swearing, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), spit kink maybe?, praise, dog tags- they deserve a warning all on their own

___________________________

The clock always seemed to go twice as slow if you were waiting for something. Or someone. Each minute felt like 10, and each hour felt like 5. 

You glanced at your phone, waiting for any new messages, but all you saw was the one you had gotten a couple hours ago.

Bucky: I just landed. On my way back.

6:38 p.m.

The clock above your TV in the living room read 8:40, and a frustrated sigh left your body. Bucky had been away too long, in your completely humble opinion, and New York had never seemed farther from Chicago than tonight. 

The growing anxiety you felt when he was in Europe, with Zemo, had reached it’s peak when you watched the events in New York happen live on the news. All your worries melted from your mind and body when he finally answered his phone and you heard his voice telling you he was alright. 

When Bucky had first told you he was moving to Chicago, claiming “the people were better” (or whatever bullshit reason he had pulled out of his ass), you thought it would be easier on your nervous heart. You were wrong, obviously. The whole ordeal just gave you more reasons to be worried and afraid.

Lost in your thoughts, with your legs kicked up on the coffee table, you hadn’t heard the front door open and shut, and hadn’t noticed the heavy footsteps walking down the hall, and hadn’t recognized the dark figure at the doorway, until he called your name. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him, your body immediately jumping up from the couch. He dropped his duffle bag on the ground by his feet and opened his arms, and you ran into them like your life depended on it.

Bucky’s arms tightened around your waist and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin. Your arms made their way around his neck, and he lifted you off the floor a few inches, squeezing you.

“Okay, okay, Buck!” you said through a strained laugh.

“You’re gonna kill me,” you breathed.

He hummed into your neck, placing a kiss to it before pulling his head back. His hands held your cheeks, and a smile played on his lips. His eyes were tired. Tired, but relieved.

“I missed you,” he whispered, as if it was a secret.

Your hands gripped his wrists and held on, squeezing once as you said:

“I missed you more."

“I highly doubt that, baby,” he insisted, “Ya know how annoying it is to be surrounded by men all the time?”

Your smile dropped and you gave him a pointed look, and he laughed at your incredulous face.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But Bucky, I’m always surrounded by men- I get it,” he chuckled. You shook your head, trying to keep the smile that was threatening to appear from showing. 

Bucky let out a happy sigh and his eyes took in every inch of your body standing before him. 

“I could kiss you right now,” he said quietly.

You lifted your hands to his jaw, angling his head up to make eye contact with him.

“Then why don’t you?”

And that was all it took for him to surge forward, soft lips meeting yours, and you sighed into the kiss. Your hands went up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to let him in, almost ritually. His hands travelled from your face to your waist, then to your hips, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible. 

His lips left yours and started leaving wet, heavy kisses on your jaw, then down your neck, and your eyes closed. You let out a short sigh when you felt his lips meet the skin above your collarbone, biting at the skin and claiming your body as his own. One of his hands left your hip, but quickly came down in a short, light slap on your ass, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant. Jump.

So you did, trusting him to catch your legs when they wrapped around his waist, and he did, holding you against him with a strong hold on your thighs. 

Your hands held you steady, gripping onto his shoulders. Bucky moved his kisses from your collarbone to the base of your throat, and you threw your head back, fingers digging into his jacket. He placed three sweet kisses up the column of your throat, before meeting your own lips again. 

“Buck,” you breathed into the kiss, hands tugging at his hair. He just hummed, hands rubbing the back of your thighs, and your legs tightened reflexively around him. 

“Couch,” you managed to get out before his metal hand came up to hold the back of your head, and before you knew it, you were on your back on the large couch you had decided to splurge on a while back exactly for this reason. 

Bucky hovered above you, in between your legs, the hand that was on the back of your head now resting against your neck. No pressure, it was just enough for you to be aware it was there, and your heart started racing faster. 

Bucky straightened himself, on his knees in front of you, and you watched him take his jacket off, pulling his shirt over his head too.

Your hand reflexively reached out to touch him, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed it back, into the couch next to your head. You felt the familiar heat growing deep in your stomach when he dropped his head down to kiss you again, the metal of his dog tags cold against your neck. 

Your brows furrowed and your hips pressed higher into his, but he moved away from you as soon as you made contact. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your lips when he pulled his lips away, the air around you feeling colder without him on top of you. An amused smile tugged the corners of his lips and he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“You know, babe, I don’t think this is fair,” he teased, and you gave him a confused look, to which he answered by giving a slight tug on your cotton shorts.

“You still have all your clothes on,” he stated simply, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pulled the shorts down your legs as fast as humanly possible. A chill ran down your spine and another wave of heat washed over the pit of your stomach when he pulled his body back, dropping lower so his head was level with your clothed pussy. You lifted your head to get a better look at him, heavily breathing dangerously close to where you needed him and you groaned inwardly, tangling your fingers in his hair in an attempt to bring his face closer. Keeping his head in place, Bucky faked a pout at you, hands running along the insides of your thighs. You tried closing them, out of habit, but he kept them in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he cooed, tracing his nose along your thigh, lips teasing the edge of your panties. 

You whimpered as your hips writhed underneath him, his eyes watching you intently.

“Use your words, honey, c’mon,” he said softly, tracing a finger down your slit, still covered in your panties, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sudden contact. 

“Wanna tell Bucky what’s got your panties so wet, baby?” he teased, and you met his eyes again right in the moment when he pressed a kiss to where he knew your clit was. Your hips bucked into his touch, but his metal arm held you in place.

“Bucky, please-,” you let out breathlessly, eyes screwed shut at the feeling of him running his nose up and down your pussy, so close yet so far from where you were burning for him. 

“Please what? All you gotta do is ask, baby,” he spoke against your core, and you pulled even tighter on his hair.

“Please, please touch me, please,” you begged through a desperate whine, and as soon as you did, he hummed against you and pulled your soaked panties to the side, the cool air meeting your hot pussy sending goosebumps down your legs.

Your back arched and a moan left your lips when Bucky swiped a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit. He took his sweet time, watching you throw your head back into the couch when he sucked on your clit. You felt him smile against you and you panted slightly, opening your eyes to see him buried between your folds, eating you out like he was starved. You supposed he was, after spending that much time away from you. He quickened the pace of his licks, alternating between lapping at your entrance and teasing your clit, and you preened when his fingers gripped your hips. You knew they would leave bruises, dangerously pressed into your skin and bones, but all you could focus on and care about now was Bucky humming against your pussy and his beard scratching your inner thighs. 

His hands went up from your hips to your waist, and your hand found one of his, gripping it tightly. Your legs wound tightly around his head, he felt his jeans getting tighter by the minute, and it took everything in him not to grind into the couch with every whine and plead that left your lips. 

You felt the familiar coil tighten in your belly, and you dug your nails into Bucky’s hand.

“B-Buck-,” you breathed, and he nodded in between your legs. The hand that you weren’t holding disappeared from your waist, and you didn’t have time to miss the warm contact before you felt one of his thick fingers draw slowly into you. He pulled it out and back in once, before you fell apart. You arched your back and moaned his name out, hands shooting down to push his head closer to you. You writhed underneath him as your orgasm washed over you, and he placed soft kisses on your clit as you rode it out, eventually your legs falling limp on his shoulders and back. 

“Baby...,” you called for him, too spent to open your eyes just yet, and you felt him come up to you again, kissing you. You groaned softly at the taste of yourself on his swollen lips, your hands running across his shoulders and back. 

A deep breath left his lips when they left yours, eyes meeting yours, and you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

Bucky’s head dropped down to press a long kiss on your neck, his hands pushing your shirt up your stomach and over your breasts. His lips made their way from your neck to your boob, kissing the area right above your bra softly before nipping at it, eliciting a yelp from you. You felt him smirk against your skin and he kissed further down your stomach, cold metal of his dog tags trailing down your torso, before he pulled your panties down your legs completely. 

“God,” he muttered, lips pressed to your right hip.

“I fucking missed-” a kiss to your stomach.

“This fucking body-” a kiss to your ribcage.

“So much-” a kiss to your chest. 

You were at a loss for words, instead focused on the hard outline in his jeans, pressing insistently at your inner thigh. Kitten-licks to your neck, fingers tracing your sides, he wanted to take his sweet time with you.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as patient, hands making their way down his bare stomach and fumbling with his belt buckle. Finally unbuckling it, and unbuttoning his pants, you teased your fingers under the hem of his boxer briefs, bringing them around to his sides, raking your nails up his back and soon your hands came back to his messy hair. 

“Bucky please,” you moaned, hips pushing up to his to find any sort of relief, and he chuckled.

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” he quipped, almost sarcastically, and you bit your bottom lip.

His thumb came up to pull it from your teeth, tracing it over your lip then down your chin, pulling your mouth open. You watched with desperate eyes as a strand of spit left from between his lips, falling onto your tongue, and a needy whine sounded from the back of your throat when he forced your mouth closed again. 

“Swallow,” he demanded quietly with furrowed brows, leaving no room to argue, so you did. 

In the blink of an eye, Bucky grabbed your hips and flipped you over on your stomach, pulling them so you were ass-up in front of him. Your heart jumped at the fast action and you arched your back, pushing your butt towards him. His hard cock, still in his tight boxers, met your pussy and you knew there would be a wet spot on them. A low groan left Bucky’s lips, and you felt his hand wrap itself around your throat, pulling you up against his torso. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me, baby?” he muttered into your ear, and you gave no answer.

The hand around your throat tightened its hold and his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, and your head was pulled down to rest on his shoulder 

“I asked you something,” he whispered, lips moving against your ear in close proximity. 

“I do,” you answered simply, and you felt him tense behind you. Gotcha.

Without saying anything else, Bucky let go of your neck and your hair, and your body dropped in front of him to the position it was in before. You heard a shuffle behind you and before you even realized he took his boxers off, you felt him. 

Teasing you with the head of his cock, Bucky leaned over your body, and from where your head was laying on the end of the couch you saw his metal hand next to you, holding himself steady. You couldn’t help pushing your ass into him more, but he pushed it back and gave you a low chuckle. 

“No, no baby, we’re doin’ it my way.”

Without warning, his flesh hand landed in a sharp spank on your ass, and a greedy whine escaped your lips. He massaged the area that was already starting to burn deliciously, and he leaned down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“Please, Bucky-,” you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut when he pushed the tip of his cock inside you. 

“What? Please what?” he asked lowly. Letting out a frustrated huff, your hand reached forward, searching for anything to hold onto, and wrapped around his vibranium wrist next to your head. 

“C’mon, princess, use your words,” he teased. You hated how unaffected he seemed, and hated how little it took for you to turn into putty in his hands.

“Buck- Bucky, please fuck me,” sighing out the last few words when he pushed himself into you slow and steady as soon as you said his name. 

You felt him bottom out, and buried your face in the couch cushion under you, never being able to get used to the size of him. Your pussy clenched around him involuntarily, and he groaned deeply when you whimpered.

“Please,” you wanted to say, but it came out no louder than a soft whisper, “Please move.”

Bucky let out a low fuck at your begging, pushing the side of your head into the couch and pulling out, before pushing himself back in. A moan left your body at the burning stretch in your lower abdomen, and he took that a sign to move faster. So he did. 

Sometimes, when Bucky fucked you, he fucked you hard, and fast, leaving bruises on your hips, hand prints on your ass and hickeys on your thighs where only he could see them. Other times, he fucked you deep and slow, whispering words of affection in your ears that sent you over the edge. He knew how to send you spiraling, knew what buttons to push and how to push them. This time, Bucky fucked you like he missed you, because he did. With every hard, steady thrust of his hips, a soft, whiney moan escaped your parted lips, and you couldn’t form words. 

His hand on your head kept it from moving, and you couldn’t form a coherent thought as you stared, eyes heavy lidded and mouth open, at his hand next to your head. Your fingers tightened their grip around his wrist, moving up slightly to grab his arm, and you gasped when the hand on your head moved to push your back down even more than you thought was possible, causing it to arch more and him to hit new angles. 

“B... ,” you couldn’t even call out his name as he drilled into you, whispering into your ear words that you just barely registered, something along the lines of “my baby’s doing so good” and “pussy made just for me”. 

A wave of something hot washed over your body, and all of a sudden you were hyperaware of the slight sheen of sweat that covered your body, underneath your shirt, and the heavy breaths leaving Bucky’s mouth.

He pressed your back even harder, ruthlessly pumping into your pussy like it would run away from him. 

“My sweet baby,” he groaned through his thrusts, dropping to place a kiss to the back of your neck, and you whined at the simple touch.

“So- so good, Bucky,” you managed to stutter, and he hummed in affirmation against your neck.

You felt your stomach tighten, signaling the wave that was about to wash over you. After hearing the urgent, desperate moan that came from you, Bucky’s hand moved to your hip, gripping it harshly. 

“Buck, I’m gonna-,” you warned him, and he reached his hand around under you. All it took was three rubs to your clit for you to fall apart underneath him. 

Letting out his name in a prolonged, loud, almost embarrassingly pornographic moan, the coil in your stomach snapped and your legs went numb. You arched your back, pushing your ass hard against his hips, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hand gripping his arm went limp, dropping to hang over the side of the couch. A few tears fell over your lashline, without you realizing you had even teared up, and then your whole body relaxed in his hold. 

Bucky’s thrusts, in the meantime, had slowed, becoming sloppier, and the heat from his cum pouring into you was almost comforting in a way, spreading warmth through your already sore lower abdomen. 

“Shit, doll,” he hissed through clenched teeth, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his body onto yours, and you let out a small grunt accompanied by a lazy giggle when he started peppering the side of your face with kisses, moving strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“You were so good for me, baby...” he whispered into your ear between kisses, and all you could do was nod, eyes drooping tiredly.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of you carefully, and you whimpered at the sore burn between your legs from your thighs being stretched so much for so long, not to mention his hips snapping into yours at a bruising rate. You laid face down on the couch, spent and tired with your eyes closed, hearing Bucky walk away behind you. He came back after a few moments, floor creaking underneath him, and you slightly jerked with a start when you felt something cool against your legs, before realizing he was wiping the aftermath between them, presumably with a towel. You honestly couldn’t tell, you were too tired to focus on anything but the sound of Bucky’s steady breathing behind you. 

He walked away again, coming back quicker this time, and you cracked one eye open just enough to see him walking towards you in his boxers again, carrying a pair of your panties in his hand. A tired, dopey smile graced your face when you felt his hands pull your panties up your legs softly, and you pushed your hips up slightly to help him put them on. Goosebumps attacked your bare skin when he pressed his lips to the tender skin of your ass where it had been slapped, and you sighed.

“Buck,” you muttered, half of your face smushed against the couch, muffling your voice. 

“Yes, bubba?” he asked behind you, thumbs rubbing the backs of your thighs.

“Lay with me a bit?” you asked.

And you had asked him so prettily, so sweetly, he couldn’t bear to say no. So he laid beside you, pulling you into him by your waist, carting his fingers through your hair. 

“That was great,” you muffled against the couch sleepily, “Missed you.”

Bucky chuckled at your tone and buried his nose into your neck. 

“I missed you more.”

“Not possible,” you drawled, but you were too drained to pull any sort of sarcasm or playfulness through the remark. You felt his soft lips on your neck, hot air blowing through his nose against your jaw, and you let out a yawn.

“Sleep.”

You whined softly, not wanting to fall asleep when he had just gotten home, wanting to spend as much time as you could with him, but you felt his fingers smooth out the crease above your furrowed brows, relaxing your face.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”

[transias]

Hello!! I saw your taking requests and I was wondering if you could write a johnny x reader where the reader is related to kreese maybe he's their uncle or godfather anyways one day kreese has the reader there with him to show them off and johnny connect's dots that there related , Its okay if you dont wanna write it I love your writing btw💕

An Unexpected Surprise.

Pairings: Johnny Lawrence x Godchild Kreese!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death

A/N: Thank you so much, y'all are so sweet oml! will always be more than happy to write for all of you, so don't even worry about it <3

〰️

My parents had died about two weeks ago. Everything happened so quickly, I barely had time to process it.

It wasn't like I could put my life on pause for a moment. If my parents were here I know they would probably say something like, "(Y/n), keep going. You got this, life goes on no matter what happens. What matters is that you're brave enough to fight back and continue."

And that's what I was planning to do.

"(Y/n)?" A voice called out, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I look up and smile softly, "Kreese, it's so nice to see you!"

"Hey kiddo." He greets, "I haven't seen you in forever, you've grown up so much!" Kreese ruffles my hair, "I'm so sorry about your parents, how are you feeling?"

I shrug, "I don't know. I'm still processing it but i'm fine, it'll all be okay. Right?"

He nods, a smile curling onto his lips, "It will. Now come on, we have a drive ahead of us." He places his hand on my back, guiding me out to the car.

Kreese and I talked about settling into California, what I liked to do, and his job as a Karate Sensei.

"You know, (y/n). We could use someone as strong and wise like you in Cobra kai." He says.

I furrow my eyebrows, "You really think so?"

Kreese nods, "Yes. My students are all brawn but no brain, well maybe except one of them." He chuckles, "He's my best student, I think you'll get along with him."

I think about it for a moment. Me? Karate? A minute of silence goes by before I sigh, "Alright, i'll join you."

Kreese smiles widely before ruffling my hair, "'Attakid."

〰️

The next morning we went out for breakfast, got enrolled at a nearby school, bought a couple of things I needed, and basically helping me settle into California.

It was not a little late in the afternoon and I sigh, looking out the window. "How would you describe the kids here?"

Kreese looks up from the television then back to me, "Annoying."

I scoff a little, "Well that's helpful."

"I don't know, (y/n). I'm old! It's not like I can roll up to the skate park and just say, "how do you do, fellow kids?"" Kreese replies.

I chuckle and shake my head, "Fair enough. Plus you're a Sensei so i'm sure being in charge of a bunch of kids and teenagers isn't so much fun."

He nods before looking at the time, "You know what? There's this place that all my students go to hang out in. Golf n' Stuff, I think it's called? Anyways, why don't you go over there and try and get acquainted with some of the kids?"

"Yeah! That'd be awesome!" I stand up, grabbing my jacket and a bit of money I had saved up.

"You need me to give you a ride there?" Kreese asks. I shake my head, "I'll take my bike so I can also try and get familiar with the streets." I smile at him.

"Alright, just make sure to be back home by 10:30!" He added. I nod, "Got it, see ya!"

〰️

I lock down my bicycle at the racks, taking a deep breath before walking into the place.

Loud noises from chattering and machines filled my ear, I was somewhat regretting this already but screw it, I had nothing to lose.

Grabbing some tokens for a few of the arcade machines, I step up to the Donkey Kong machine. I quickly start tapping on the controls and avoiding the barrels he'd throw at my character.

"Shit!" I mumble, losing the game. I turn around and see a boy with blonde hair, staring at me along with two of his friends.

I furrow my eyebrows before making my way off to another game, I can still feel their eyes staring at me and before I knew it, the blonde boy was next to me, a smirk on his lips.

"Hey i've never seen you around here before, are you new?" He asks, leaning on the wall. I nod, "Yeah, I just moved here yesterday to live with my Godfather." I reply, "The name's (y/n) (y/l/n). Nice to meet you...?"

"Oh, i'm Johnny Lawrence!" He replies, "(Y/n), that's a lovely name for a lovely person like you."

I chuckle and I can feel my cheeks warm up, "Is that something you say to all of the people you flirt with?"

Johnny shakes his head, "Nope, only with majestic people such as yourself."

"You flatter me, Lawrence."

"Well, I assume you're here alone. Would you like to hang out with me?" He offers. I nod, "Yes, please! That would be lovely."

The entire night is incredible, Johnny and I played on the arcade games, mini golf, and he even tried winning me a stuffed animal from the crane machine but unfortunately fails.

"Let me try!" I step up onto the machine.

"I don't know, babe. It's a little difficult."

I aim for a giraffe stuffed animal and successfully winning the animal, I lean down to reach for my prize and look over at Johnny who looks amazed.

"Here, a little prize as a thank you for being so kind to me, tonight." I hand it over to him.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head, "You're incredible."

I look over at the time and it's 10:21, my eyes widen and I quickly walk outside with Johnny.

I begin to unlock my bike, "I'm so sorry! I have to be home in nine minutes! But thank you for tonight, it was so lovely."

"Wait!" Johnny exclaims, placing a kiss on my cheek, "I hope to see you again, (y/n)."

There goes that not so familiar yet wonderful feeling fluttering in my stomach. "See you around, Lawrence!" I wave goodbye at him, quickly biking back home and making it a minute before my curfew.

〰️

Monday rolls around and so does school and my first lesson at Cobra Kai.

I'm grabbing my books out of the locker when all of a sudden I feel a pair of hands on my shoulder, "Nice to see you again, stranger." A familiar voice rings.

I turn around and see a smiley Johnny, "Johnny, hey! I didn't know you also went here." I smile at him.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" He raises his eyebrow, "So, I realized that I never got your number! This weekend was a little torturing since you were on my mind the entire time but I couldn't call and hear you sweet voice."

I chuckle, "Smooth, Lawrence. And fine, you can have my number." I pull out a piece of paper and write my number on it, handing it to him.

The bell rings and soon everyone is leaving, "I'll call you, see you later!" He waves, I wave goodbye before trying to find my first class.

〰️

Later on, I grab my bike and make my way to Cobra Kai earlier than most of the students.

I push the door and see Kreese, practicing a few moves before I clear my throat and catch his attention. "(Y/n), welcome to Cobra Kai! I have something for you."

I remove my shoes before walking onto the mat and closer to him, he pulls out something white and I gently take it from his hands, "This is my uniform, right?" I ask. "It's called a Gi. You will wear this during class so make sure you always bring it, got it?" He crosses his arms.

I nod, "Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Sir?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"It's Sensei, not sir, not Kreese. Sensei."

"Yes Sensei!"

I change into the Gi and walk outside to see a group of teenagers gathered around the mat.

A familiar face catches my attention and I wave over at him, "Johnny, hey!" I smile.

He excuses himself from his friends and walks over to me, "Hey! What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Oh, my Godfather asked me to join Cobra Kai. I'm not looking forward to getting my ass kicked though." I chuckle.

Johnny nods, "Don't worry, i'll help you out."

"Lawrence! I see you've met my Godchild." Kreese exclaims, walking over to us.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows before finally realizing, "Oh- yes, Sensei, I did!"

A nervous look forms on Johnny's face and Kreese walks closer to us, "Everything okay?"

Johnny gulps, "Yeah! This is just an unexpected surprise. That's it."

"Everyone! This is my Godchild, (y/n). They will start training with us and I expect you to treat them as one of your own. Is that clear?" Kreese announces.

"Yes Sensei!" The class replies.

〰️

"So, that was quite unexpected." I hear Johnny state.

I nod, "Yeah, i'm guessing you're that 'best student' he mentioned to me."

"Oh jeez, this complicates things a little. Do you think Sensei will kill me if I ask you out on a date?"

I pause and look over at him, "You were gonna ask me out?"

Johnny nods, "I'm still planning on it." He smirks and walks closer to me, "I think you're worth the risk."

[captains-simp]

heksbdkshs you’re jock!carol fics give me life, could you do one where jock!carol and the reader have been keeping their relationship a secret and one of those girls that love gossip finds out and like the next day everyone knows ??

You've met soft!jock!Carol. Now it's time for angsty!jock!Carol

4.6k words

Warning: homophobia (plus slurs), bullying, mentions of declining mental health mild violence and some clique high school douchebags (yes that gets a warning)

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You barely looked up when the paper airplane landed swiftly on your desk in front of you. It was only when you caught a glimpse of the red and blue stripe along the side that you spared it a glance. You prodded it with your pen and dragged it across the desk towards you, feeling a pair of eyes watching you eagerly from the back of the class. You unfolded the note carefully until a small sprawl of letters became visible, barely spelling out the word 'purple'.

You bit back a smile at the message and scrunched it up into a tight ball, throwing it in the bin near your desk before going back to writing your notes. You wanted to turn around and meet the eyes you were certain were staring at the back of your head but you knew you couldn't. It had become routine and you swore it was still the hardest part of your day - pretending you didn't notice her.

The bell in the corridor rung loudly and the second it did everyone in the class got up from their seats, ignoring the final reminders from the teacher at the front. Students swarmed into the corridor and amongst the crowd you lost sight of her for a few short moments until the wave of blonde hair appeared ahead of you where she maneuver to the side to be greeted by others in the same blue jacket. You caught her eye for a split second as you went by but it was no more than that. You wished so much that it could have been longer, that you could confidently stroll down those corridors hand in hand with her. A short hug. A brief kiss. A small smile. Anything. You just wished you could have more than fleeting moments with the blonde.

It felt like you could finally breathe properly when you left the suffocating building. The crowd dispersed into smaller groups while you walked out of the school grounds with a slight trot in your step. The further you went the less people you saw until the streets you walked down were near empty. The small corner shop eventually came into sight and you sped up slightly at the sight of your destination, not spying the red car you were always looking out for but knowing she was somewhere close by, she always got there first.

Instead of going into the corner store, you went through the narrow alleyway besides it and around the back of the store. You weren't in a sketchy part of town and even if you were you wouldn't have been afraid of going down the alley, not when you knew who was around the corner waiting for you. You had told her that last time you were there when she had asked you out of sheer curiosity. Apparently she wanted to challenge that truth.

A pair of hands shot out besides your and covered your eyes in an instant, not giving you any chance to stop it. Before you could even give a startled cry, her body pressed firmly against your back and the familiar smell of vanilla surrounded you. Relaxing in her grip, you felt her sway playfully as she leaned forwards to plant soft kisses along your neck. "Guess who?" She mused and you smiled as you tilted your head back for her.

"Hey, Care Bear." Carol groaned against your neck as she pulled her hands away. "I told you not to call me that." She complained, though her smile betrayed her when she spun you around to face her. You instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck as she held your waist softly, kissing you with enough passion to tell you she had been missing you too.

"How'd your test go?" Carol asked between kisses as she guided you backwards to lean against the nearest wall.

"Okay, I passed." You said absentmindedly. "How'd your game go?"

"Okay, I won." She copied and you couldn't help but smile faintly.

"That film you wanted to watch is on tonight, at 11. Wanna go?" The Captain asked as she stopped kissing you to talk properly and kept her hold on you so you stayed close.

"There's show times a lot earlier than 11." You laughed but stilled when Carol scrunched up her nose. "What? You don't want to be seen in public with me?" You teased but there was something very genuine to your question. You felt a familiar pang in your chest when Carol's grip loosened and she looked away.

"Y/n, we've talked about this." Your girlfriend sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry." You muttered as you tried to look as unbothered as possible but knew your face gave away the disappointment you felt so intensely. "You know if I could I would go out at all hours with you, where ever you'd want to go. It's just not that simple." It was hard to truly believe those words when your girlfriend sounded so exasperated, like she was having to explain to a child why they couldn't draw on the walls or have candy for breakfast.

"I know." You said because you really did and you felt guilty for bringing it up.

Carol had told you before you had even started dating her that your relationship would have to be secret. You didn't go to the most gay-friendly school for one thing. There were no openly gay couples there and to be honest you didn't have the nerve to be the first. Carol was content on being popular and you were happy staying under the radar with no intentions to change that. Above all Carol believed it would make securing her scholarship a great deal harder. You were never sure if that was just her fears or if it could really affect it but you respected where she was coming from. That didn't stop it hurting. It didn't stop you envying all the couples that got to openly love their partners. You always reminded yourself that keeping your relationship secret took as much of a toll on Carol as it did on you, she was just far better at hiding it. She was good at hiding a lot.

"Is that a no on the movie?" Carol asked with a strong hint of upset in her voice and unintentionally heart wrenching puppy dog eyes.

"11 right? Sounds like we have a lot of time to kill." You smiled wholly as you glanced at the old blanket fort you had built together months ago, right after you had gotten red and blue slushies that you had spilt on one of the blankets inside and stained purple. That wasn't the only thing that was turned purple that day but was the one that seemed to be permanent.

Carol smiled eagerly and wrapped her arms around you tightly again. "I love you, you know that right?" She asked genuinely and you returned her bright smile.

"Always, and I love you too, Care Bear." Carol rolled her eyes but kissed you softly again, treasuring the feeling of your soft lips against hers and the vague taste of the lunch she had discreetly bought you that day.

*

You swung open your locker door and made to shove as many of your school books inside as you could until you halted at the sight of a small, folded up, piece of paper in the base of your locker. You crammed your books into the tight space and stood as close as you could to it as you unfolded the note, knowing it wasn't for the eyes of the rest of the world. 'East feild field supply shed, lunch' was all it read in the familiarly rushed handwriting. You scrunched the note up and put it in your pocket, locked your locker and made your way down the corridor with a sense of uncertainty in your step. Carol never wanted to meet inside school - it was practically a rule. You would text each other as much as you could and even call if you were lucky, but you were never physically together.

You continued on to the field and walked across as nonchalantly as you could. You only vaguely knew where that specific supply shed was because it was rarely ever used and not to mention half submerged in the woodland bordering part of the field. You glanced around as you neared it and when you were sure no one was near by you dipped behind the back to an awaiting Carol, sat cross legged on the floor and trying to balance a spoon on her nose.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked hastily as you put your bag down on the floor and stared at your girlfriend in concern.

"Of course I am, you're here." She said simply and held both her hands out to you. You took them with a confused smile as Carol guided you to sit on her lap and cupped your cheek with her hand.

"Are you sure? We don't usually- we never-" Carol pecked your lips to successfully silence you.

"I know, but I missed you too much." She said with a contagious smile. "Really. I just wanted to see you." Your smile grew as you nodded and lent forward slightly to kiss the blonde back.

"I missed you too."

You stayed like that for the rest of your lunch break, enjoying each other's company and embrace as you ignored the rest of the world that wasn't shielded by the old wood around you. It was pretty much perfect. You knew it couldn't become habit so you tried your hardest to just focus on the there and then. Carol seemed to be thinking the same thing, letting her guard down more than she ever had when you had to part days.

The Captain chuckled as she kissed you after backing you into the shed door. You pushed her back lightly with a giggle, feeling giddy from everything happening. "We gotta go." You laughed more when Carol trapped you against the shed, clearly not having any desire to attend her next lesson. "Carol." You scorned, making her pull away only to gaze at you adoringly.

"Okay." She huffed and stepped back to give you space to move. The moment you did she laced your fingers together and held up your hand to her lips, giving the back of it a soft kiss before letting you go. You grinned back at her as you started in opposite directions, your hand still tingling from your girlfriend's soft imprint.

You were both so blissfully unaware of your surroundings you forgot to make a quick check of anyone near by. Neither of you were aware of the eager eyes following both your steps, nor the digital lens that followed with them. However that was something that became very much apparent the next day. The eyes that landed on you as you ventured down the school corridors weren't subtle. They weren't kind either.

You felt like there was a spot light on you everywhere you went and it went on for a while. Some people would look away once you glanced anxiously in their direction while others stared back with a distasteful and all together brutal glare. It was clear that everyone knew something you didn't, something that soon brought your mind to Carol. Where was she?

That was a question you had to wait a while to be answered. Your girlfriend wasn't in any of the few classes you had together, something that wasn't completely unheard of for her but was especially anxiety inducing on that day. It was during lunch break that you finally saw her. You were thrilled and filled with relief when you saw the blonde hair and blue jacketed figure making its way towards you where you sat under a tree on the far edge of the field. However as she got closer and you were able to distinguish the infuriated look upon her face, all the relief drained away. You had seen her angry before. She had been known to have a short fuse and with a team that wasn't the brightest and some games not going the way she would have wanted, you knew what angry Carol entailed. But what you saw that day was something new.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled and you stumbled back a couple of steps in shock.

"W-what?" You fumbled when you realized Carol's new found fury was directed at you.

"What did you do?" She demanded as she advanced to being a short step away from you. Suddenly, having Carol so close didn't hold the comfort it usually did.

"I don't know. I don't know what's going on! Everything was fine until..." you trailed off when the Captain turned her attention to her phone. You glanced between her and the screen, not understanding why she suddenly didn't want to pay you any attention. However, when she showed you her screen your heart dropped. Any other couple wouldn't have minded the picture. They may even have loved it. You and Carol couldn't take a moment to admire the moment that was captured, because you both knew what it meant. You were so close together in the photo, arms tightly around each other as you shared a kiss. You were unbreakable. Were...

"Who... how did they..." You barely managed to speak, feeling far too numb.

"You tell me, y/n." Carol crossed her arms defensively and continued to glare right into your eyes. You thought that hurt more than anything else that had happened that day and honestly ever.

"I didn't do this." You whispered, too shocked to fully comprehend what your girlfriend was accusing you of.

"You wanna rethink that answer? Because this secret has always bothered you a lot more than it has for me." What? You felt sick at hearing her words. You had spent the whole relationship thinking, fooling yourself into believing that it was both sided. How much did she care?

"There was a time you wouldn't fucking shut up about it for two seconds and no matter how many times I explained to you why we couldn't go running around holding hands like goddamn kinder-gardeners you still couldn't get it through your skull that is was the smart decision. Do you not like what's happening today, y/n? Does it upset you?" She gritted in a sickeningly mocking tone that you had never heard before. It was just plain cruel. "Well buckle the fuck up because it's going to get a hell of a lot worse, especially for me. You'll be happy though, won't you? This is what you wanted." Carol finished, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. That was all you could really make it through your teary eyes.

"No this isn't what I wanted." You started to sob as you reached out for Carol's hand but she smacked it away hard. You recoiled in alarm and tried again. "Please Carol, I would never do this. I just wanted what you did." Carol scoffed at your pathetic attempt at explaining yourself, far from believing you in your hysteric state.

"Fuck off." She spat as she gave you one final glare and turned sharply on her heels to leave you were stood. Alone.

"Carol, please!" You begged but the blonde had had enough.

"Stay away from me." She shouted back and you stopped in your tracks, only able to watch her leave.

"No." You whimpered in defeat and dropped to your knees, breaking down in tears as you felt like your world was crumbling around you and there was nothing you could do to fix it. There wasn't even anyone who could help you through it anymore.

*

Carol was right. Things did get a lot worse after that, in a lot of different ways. Your heartbreak was the worse thing. You spent every moment you weren't in school curled up in bed, soaking your sheets and pillows with tears, scolding yourself for everything that had gone wrong. You knew, deep down, that it wasn't you fault, that it was Carol who was entirely in the wrong but you found it impossible to hate her. It would have been so much easier if you had been able to. It might have hurt less.

School was a much worse place to be. You saw Carol every day but a word was never passed between you. Anytime you caught her eye she looked away quicker than you could read her so it was hard to tell if she still hated you. All you knew was you weren't her favourite person. That was one thing, but the bullying was something else. It was relentless, ranging from everything between graffitied slurs on your locker to being shoved into them. Your grades dropped and your mental health declined with it.

"Move, fag." You gave a low 'oof' as you were tripped into the railings along the stairs. You held your stomach and winced at the instant throbbing pain there. You avoided the eyes you knew were on you but when you risked a glance up you saw the blonde you weren't sure if you were avoiding or not. You held her gaze longer than you had since she had broken your heart, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the undeniable pity written across her face. In that moment you found yourself wanting to go up to her. What you would do or say you weren't sure of, maybe it would have come to you got there.

You took a bold step forwards until you were cut off by a junior who gave you the first friendly smile you had seen in a while. You didn't trust it at all, like it was a mask worn by the devil himself to trick you. "Hey." He greeted. You opened your mouth to speak but you had no clue of what to say. "I just wanted to say I thinks it's pretty cool what you did." He said simply.

"What I did?" You asked slowly and he nodded back with the same smile.

"The picture." He clarified. You clenched your jaw and peered over at the blonde who was still watching you cautiously. "I know it wasn't you choice to have it taken or anything." He rushed when he noticed your defensive stance. "And I can't imagine what you're going through right now." He added with a sympathetic look. "But seeing you guys together in a town that isn't exactly the best place for it has given a lot of us a some hope. Most of the world is becoming more acceptant, it's only a matter of time before things change here too, even if you're not here when it does." He shrugged before getting distracted by someone in the corridor. "Plus you guys are a cute couple." Ouch. He smiled at you and waved at his friend as he made to leave.

"I gotta go but I hope I see you around." You nodded slightly as you pondered his words. You glanced at Carol and was surprised to still see her standing by her locker, it felt like some strange stand off and you wondered if she had heard what the junior had said to you. She wasn't that far away by the corridor was beginning to get crowded and loud.

You made to walk towards Carol but the second you did she took off like a startled deer. You sighed as you watched her go. Maybe it was for the best that you stay out of each other's way after all. Despite whatever the hell had just happened, the blonde's last words to you played as clear as ever in your head. They still made your heart ache as much as it did the first time around.

Things didn't change between you and Carol after that. It was hard, near impossible on some days, but you started to try and get over her. You didn't want to forget and you certainly didn't want to regret it because until the end, your relationship with Carol was the best thing that ever happened to you. Knowing that made it so much harder to move on. Not to mention a large part of you didn't even want to. You loved Carol. Making yourself fall out of love with her was just as difficult as when you had tried to stop yourself falling in love her nearly a year prior.

Given the absence of progress between you and the Captain, you honestly thought you were hallucinating when she called your name one day after school. You spun around in every direction to find her, something that wasn't that hard when she came jogging towards you. "Can we go somewhere more private?" She asked as she glanced at the onlookers. You nodded quickly, your mouth and throat feeling far too dry for you to even attempt to speak.

You walked in an extremely awkward silence towards the field. You were waiting for Carol to speak first and you were hoping she wasn't thinking that you would do the same thing given she had approached you. Unless she had done it on a whim, you really hoped not. It was only when you were alone that she piped up.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out. You glanced at her in surprise, an apology was the last thing you were expecting. "I'm so so sorry. I was so stupid- beyond stupid. What I did was something I promised I never would and I hate myself every moment for it." You stared at the blonde blankly as she continued to ramble away. You had never seen her so frantic and you were so taken off guard by it you didn't have a chance to notice the irony of what was happening and how drastically the roles had been reversed.

"I was just so scared and that's not an excuse I'm just trying to explain." She paused to peer at you properly, waiting to see if you really understood that. You gave her another weak nod. "I didn't know what to do. It felt like I couldn't trust anyone and I got defensive to try and protect myself. I didn't mean any of it. Anything. Especially about not finding the secret hard." That was something you had been longing to hear but once you did you couldn't bring it in yourself to believe her. "There were days I had to stop myself screaming in the corridors or in the cafeteria that I was in love with you. It was even harder not being able to hug or kiss you whenever I wanted to." You listened on intently.

"I just wanted what was best for you and I didn't know what that was." She admitted. You had the sudden strong urge to reach out and hug Carol, but you also wanted to walk away. You didn't get much chance to consider your options because a group of Carol's old friends came sauntering around the corner, eyes lighting up at the sight of you and the Captain.

"Don't stop on our account." One of them snickered.

"If you're gonna dyke out you might as well make a show out of it." Another added. Your skin crawled in discomfort and Carol noticed instantly.

"Fuck off." She spat but the group ignored her.

"You know you probably just haven't had the right dick." The first one said as he eyed you up and down. You backed up and found yourself moving closer to Carol. "I'm sure I could make you straight again." He mused sickeningly and made to grab your wrist but the blonde stepped in front of you.

"I said fuck off. No one wants your two inches, Walker." She challenged and got an instant reaction. He went to swing at Carol but she swiftly kneed him in the groin before he got the chance, barely able to stop herself smirking when he doubled over with a groan. The blonde turned to you and jumped forwards when she saw one of the other boys go to grab you.

"You get the fuck away from her." Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, Carol swung her fist forwards and caught the jock in the jaw with a crunch. The other boys looked between the two injured and Carol, quickly making their call in grabbing their friends to leave.

Carol turned to you swiftly with worry and concern on every inch of her face. "Are you alright?" She asked as her eyes scanned you for any signs of injury. You gave a shaky yes, avoiding Carol's gaze. "Fuck, this is the kind of thing I was always afraid of, above everything else." She said as she ran a hand through her hair. You caught sight of her red fist and without any thought, took ahold of her hand gently. You ran your fingers over the redness softly, not realizing you were crying until a tear dropped down onto Carol's hand. At the sight of it you broke down crying more.

"Oh ba- y/n." The blonde sighed, heart breaking in smaller pieces at the sight of you. It hurt even more to see when she wasn't sure if she could hug you or not. Luckily for her she didn't have to feel useless for long because you reached out for her and clung onto her jacket as you buried your face into her chest, crying harder. "I've got you. It's okay, they're gone." She cooed. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again." You knew she was thinking of herself more than the boys when she said that.

You stood like that for a while, crying against Carol as she rubbed your back and continued to whisper reassurances to you. "Promise." You hiccuped between sniffles.

"I promise." She said instantly. You slowly pulled away to read Carol properly, watching closely for any tell of a lie and finding none. "Could you give me another chance?" The blonde asked, barely above a whisper as she feared your response. She would respect it entirely if you said no, but she really hoped you wouldn't. "There won't be anymore secrets and I'll never be a dick to you ever again."

"I'm scared." You admitted and Carol nodded tightly as she fought back tears herself.

"Me too." She admitted. "We don't have to stay here." You lifted your head up to look at Carol clearly and she continued. "We could leave, go where ever we want. There's only a couple months left of this shithole."

"A couple months." You repeated. Carol nodded encouragingly, desperate to find a bright side and winning point.

"Could you do a couple more months here?" She asked carefully and you nodded after a few seconds.

"Lets do it." You said with a sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck, really?" She laughed lightly and you found yourself doing the same.

"Yeah." You smiled. "I can't stop loving you and I don't want to." Tears started to fall down Carol's cheeks. You cupped her face gently and wiped the tears away with your thumbs. The blonde's own hands held yours as she smiled down at you.

"I love you too." With a sudden, unexpected, burst of confidence, you leaned forwards and kissed Carol longingly. She deepened the kiss instantly and wrapped her arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible, like she never wanted to let you go again.

"Everything's gonna work out." She whispered once she pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

"Of course it is." You smiled softly. "You'll be with me."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[starshipsofstarlord]

Sebastian convincing you to have another baby...

Pairing | Sebastian Stan x reader

Summary | Seb wants another baby, but he still has to convince you into wanting the same thing.

Warnings | smut, breeding kink, fluff, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, creampie, swearing, cockwarming

Requested ✖️

Y/e/d/n = Your eldest daughter’s name

Y/d/n = your daughters name

Y/s/n = your son’s name

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The idea of pregnancy gave you many things to think about, the gruelling and simultaneously tiresome journey had been one hell of a rollercoaster. The countless times (approximately two) that you had endured the swelling of your feet, and the divine hunger for the strangest combinations of food, had left you with three beautiful children.

First you had birthed a little girl, that sparked a new light behind your husband’s eyes, and reinvented his world. She was the princess he adored, and the one that you loved to watch Disney movies with, even if she insisted on Frozen every singular time.

And then, after her, you had a pair of perfect twins. They brought sound and restlessness to the household, after your daughter demanding that she wanted a sibling. Deep down, you had wanted more at the time too, but now, you felt as though your life goal was fulfilled.

Your family was everything that you had ever wanted, it felt as though you had been taken off an idealistic screen and transferred into reality. And if that had happened, you wouldn’t be one to complain, for all your greatest wishes had come true.

But if you were to ask your husband, he would make it very clear that he wanted more little devils running around the house. There was a joke that Evans and Mackie had with you every time that they saw you on set, clothed in a tight catsuit to fit your role. They would act amazed at the appearance of you not bearing one of Sebastian’s gorgeous children, their false shock earning laughs from your various co stars.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t open to the idea of another child to grow within your womb, however, it was more out of fear. You were well aware that you had been blessed with the birth of your lovely twins, though you were scared that you would endure the premise of double labour again, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of pain that you were willing to experience for a second time.

Being practically split in half once was bad enough, but twice, one instance straight after the other was bound to be the worst torture that a mother could be provided with. As you stirred your evening cuppa, watching as your kids were all huddled playing a board game after their dinner, two arms found placement around your waist, lightly tugging you back into a strong chest.

“Look at our babies.” Your husband mumbled into the crown at the back of your head, his fingertips rolling circles beneath your shirt. “Aren’t they the sweetest?” He asked, pressing a delicate kiss upon the back of your neck. The feeling of his stubble making your body shake wantonly, but you withheld from making sounds, not wanting to draw the attention of your children.

“When they’re quiet.” You agreed, watching as your eldest helped the twins with beating her. “They’re the most important people in my life, and then, it’s my annoying husband, who cannot stop trying to get in my pants for five minutes.”

“That’s called love; your husband loves you.” Sebastian stated, nibbling on your ear lobe as you ushered a sound of approval, clutching onto his hand that was firmly planted on your side, as his tongue traced the shell of your ear. “And I’m sure he’d love to show you how much, if you stop being mean to him.”

“Mean?” You laughed, taking a sip of your drink before spinning in his arms, allowing him to push you flush against the counter. “I can show him mean.” Biting your lip, you traced the seam of his sweats, that appeared to be all that he was currently wearing, brushing your hands up and against his well attended to torso. “But later.”

Seb groaned, leaning his head back, as he moved closer to you, pushing his thigh between your legs, glancing over your shoulder at the kids. “We could put them to bed right now, and then go to our room, then, you can show me how much of a horrible wife you are.”

“As much as I love that idea bubs, the twins need to be bathed, and you have to help your daughter with her math homework.” Leaning forwards, you pressed a kiss on his bicep, moving out from the entrapment of his arms, and lightly patting his ass.

“You know I was joking about you being mean, but now I’m seeing some truth behind my earlier words.” Sebastian plodded away, and towards the open living space, plopping down on the sofa, as he watched his offspring on the floor, smiling at their kindness to one another, though he was sure that tomorrow would be another story.

With one last look, you headed upstairs, going to the main bathroom, and began to slowly the run the tap. During the time you allowed it to run, you grabbed some pyjamas for your babies, as well as a couple of towels and flannels. By the time you had returned to the bathroom, and put everything down ready, the tub was half filled. And so you stopped the stream, putting in a tad of cold water before descending down the stairs.

“Honey, help y/e/d/n with her school work, I’m gonna get these two trouble makers ready for bed.” Your husband nodded as he pursed his lips, trying to ignore how you leant down to pick the twins up, pretending as through the top of your breast had not been caught by his eyes.

And with that, you got the kids cleaned and ready for the following day, meeting Seb at the doorway of y/d/n’s and y/s/n’s room, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before tucking them in for bed.

As you were walking towards your own room, Sebastian lifted you from behind, carrying you the rest of the way. “You can’t keep it in your pants, can you Mr Stan?” You laughed as he dropped you upon your double bed, him instantly kneeling at the end of it to peel your shirt off.

He trailed kisses along your legs, humming from the much desired contact, as his blue eyes flickered up at you. “That’s your fault, you deprive me.” He muttered against your skin, reaching his fingertips up higher to grasp at the sides of your underwear, pulling the material down.

Your husband blew hot air upon your pussy, grinning to himself as it instinctively clenched around nothing. As he moved closer, he breathed in your scent, rubbing the tip of his nose along your clit, before diving in to feast, sneaking his tongue through your slit, instantly prodding at your entrance, causing your head to wind back, and your hand grasp his hair.

“We should have another.” He mumbled against you, and you were almost too delirious to complain, although a light groan emitted from you, as you fought with yourself whether to let him continue eating you out and not respond, or do the responsible, adult thing, and speak about it.

With much resilience, you pulled his head away, licking your lips at his slick stained chin away, tugging him to be laid beside you. “Is that really want you want Seb?” You asked, biting your lip, wanting to hear his thoughts in hopes that it would relax you for the possibility of you bearing more of his children.

“Of course it is draga.” He answered, his icy pools making your own freeze, he cupped your chin, bringing your lips to his own, placing a few pecks upon your lips, before continuing. “I know that you’re nervous, but I will look after you every step of the way, like I have done both times before. Anyways, I feel like directors take a kick out of challenging themselves with making their actresses appear not pregnant, look at both you and Scar through the years.”

You nodded, understanding that your career wouldn’t take the brunt of things. “I want another but... I’m scared. Just, what if I have two again?” You rambled with your hands, and he clasped them between his own, pausing your panicked hand signals, and rubbing his nose against each set of your knuckles.

“The chances of that aren’t very high my love. But if it happens, then maybe this time you’ll let us call them Wanda and Pietro...” his words earned him a light eye roll and a tender hit on his shoulder, as he rolled on top of you, causing you to squeal. “Remember, don’t wake the kids.”

“Kinda hard when I can feel how hard you are.” You retorted, moaning as he began to suck at the spot on your neck that made your knees shake, his hands drifting beneath your shirt, as he began to raise the material up your torso, and over your breasts. You whipped the material over your head, discarding it as his attention turned to your boobs. “I’ll never get tired of these.”

He hummed, before leaning down, taking a rosey pebble to be captured within his mouth, sucking on it as his fingers fiddled with the other. “Seb, I just need you in me.” You prodded his hips with the heels of your feet, pleased when he leaned back, pulling down his sweats, so that his erection bobbed upwards, the head already leaking precum.

“You want a baby that bad?” He asked in a brisk voice, clambering back onto your awaiting body once again, grasping his base with his heavy hand, dragging his tip to circle around your clit. “Want me to fill you up, so that you grow nice and full with my baby.”

A furrow made its way onto your brow, as you held onto his biceps, lightly rolling your hips up against his leaking head. “Honey.” He paused his movements, staring carefully down at you, reading your expression. “I’m still on birth control.” You informed him, watching as his eyelashes fluttered, and he pressed down unto you again.

“A little practise never hurt gorgeous.” Sebastian spoke, slipping his cock into your entrance, sinking into you as you moaned out his name. “Fuck, so tight, even after three kids.” He groaned, putting his hands either side of your head, as he began to thrust in and out of your pussy, breathing heavily through his nose.

“So big.” Your hands grasped at his naked back, casting down to grasp his ass, causing him to suddenly buck deeper into you, emitting another series of moans out of you. “Love your cock.”

“Yeah?” The romanian smugly asked, his lips drifting up the tip of your nose, before running them back down to your own, biting onto your upper lip, as one hand continued to brace his weight above, and the other moved down to fondle with your clit, causing you to tighten around him, your eyelids blinking repeatedly. “You love my fat cock inside of you, about to pump you full of my cum?”

“Yes Seb, love it.” Your eyes screwed shut, tears slipping out the corner of your eyes, as he made his administrations harder, hitting his hips languidly against your own. “Love it so so so mu- ah - ch.”

“Cum angel. Coat my cock, pretty girl.” You complied, reaching your high, as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as your essence pooled around him. “Want me to make you round with my babe, want me to make you full of my cum?”

“I do, I do, I do.” You squealed, your breath hitching as he stilled for a minute, filling you with seed. “Fuck.” You breathed, your chest rising and falling, as he remained in your for a moment, before pulling out, but you stopped him, clasping his back with your sweaty hands. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Seb said tiredly, his skin flushed as he rolled over, so that you were laid on his chest, your head falling to below his chin. “So beautiful, you know that?”

“Mmh.” You hummed, drawing circles upon his skin. “I’ll come off my birth control tomorrow, then, we don’t have to just practice.” He leant down to press a long kiss upon your lips, sneaking his tongue through their natural seam, gently sucking on your own.

“That sounds more than good to me darling.” He stroked down your back with his talented fingers, pulling you closer again. You felt his dick twitch within you as he felt both of your mixed juices trailed down his balls, that huffed from the sensation.

[suna-reversed]

Hey! This is my first time making a request on a promp. How about number 78 "Shh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you." with Suguru Geto x female reader?

SUGURU GETO x F!reader//nsfw!

Minors dni‼️

This literally turns into porn without a plot//Also my first time writing Geto so I hope you like it!

(tags/warnings- oral (female receiving), slight mentions of choking, light degradation, geto’s domain) 

Teasing THE Suguru Geto was something no one had ever dared to think of.

His words, thought still spit with a venomous underside to them, were limited and uncharacteristically benign when it came to you. You found yourself wondering why you were given so much of his time and leniency, why sometimes he’d simply laugh at your snarky remarks instead of giving one back of his own, or why he’d sometimes be way too close in your personal bubble for a man who liked to keep a safe distance from most people.

It had finally hit you one day as you heard a gentle “excuse me”, followed by a light brush of hands against your lower back as you turned your head, your eyes meeting the onyx orbs of the high grade sorcerer who only gave you a subtle smirk as he moved past you in the small space, his hands lingering a little longer than needed on your skin. 

And that’s when it hit you. Suguru Geto had a soft spot for you.

You don’t know why you even entertained the idea, but somewhere or the other, it made you feel special to have his attention more so than anyone else. You didn’t start out with the intent of teasing him, but eventually it turned into a little game. Light brushes against his shoulders, your hands using his knee as leverage as you moved to get up, sometimes rubbing a little past his thighs, or wearing that one skirt you knew he couldn’t resist staring at. The final string broke the day you had stepped close to the man, leaning up to his ear, lightly breathing onto it before saying something mundane and moving away laughing, leaving the anticipating man staring at you with widened eyes. You were barely able to turn around before your wrist was being tugged and a physical aura of darkness and disconnection seemed to veil around you.

And that is how you found yourself in the domain of the powerfully minacious sorcerer, his tongue exploring yours like he had all the time in the world, his strong hands coming up to cascade through your hair as you leaned more into his touch.

Well, your little tactics had been all fun and games and you had been so smug about it, until, you felt yourself being pushed onto a bed in the never ending bubble of space, a hand tugging up the base of your top. Geto, noticing you tense up immediately, pulled back to look at you with a slight tilt in his head, his lips slightly swollen. You hadn’t realised before but he had somehow managed to get his shirt off, making your eyes rake their way down his muscular chest and abdomen, eyed widening at the tent in pants. Hearing a small chuckle, you snapped your head up to meet his eyes. His hand moved forward to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear,

“All bark, no bite. Is that how it is princess?”

Blushing deeper ten shades of crimson, you stuttered over words, mind racing because you never actually thought you’d get till here.

You saw his eyes soften just the slightest bit, before the hand on your face lightly caressed your cheek, a thumb moving down to brush at your bottom lip as Geto leaned in once again, stopping right as he was an inch away from your face,

“Do you want this?” he asked, husky voice laced in blood and honey.

You nodded as a response, sucking in a breath as his other hand came up to your neck, long fingers firmly wrapping around it. His eyes held a look that said that he wasn’t exactly pleased with your answer.

“I do want it...” Gulping, your voice got smaller as you choked out the next words, “...I’m just a little...nervous.” 

At that, he smiled his ever-knowing grin, making your eyes dart away from anywhere but the greek god of a man right in front of you. His hand came down to wrap around your jaw, tugging it so that you were staring right into his face, your noses almost touching.

"Shh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you.” He whispered, following his reassurance with another chaste kiss to your lips, leaving you wanting more. Feeling a little more confident, you leaned up once again, catching his lips in a kiss that made you let out a sweet moan into his mouth. That was enough for him as his arms once again encased your waist, taking you down onto the bed with him.

His lips moved to latch onto your neck, sucking harshly enough that you knew you’d have a plethora of hickeys all over it the next day. He peppered kisses all over your chest, stopping to lick over your pebbled nipple as his hand pinched and rolled the other one. Continuing his journey down, Geto locked his eyes with yours as he lightly nibbled on the skin of your inner thigh, hand moving out to graze his knuckle against your dripping heat.

“tsk tsk, you’re so wet and I’ve barely even done anything.” He said in between more kisses along your thigh. You yelped as a harsh slap came down on the side of your thigh, “Stop moving around so much or I’ll leave you tied up right here, all worked up and wet, without so much as breathing near you for days.” You immediately stilled at his threat, even though it was an empty one.

Geto could not wait to have a taste of you. The scent of your juices was intoxicating to him and he wondered how he’d ever stop once he finally dipped his tongue into you. A slight groan left his mouth as he darted out his tongue along in between your folds, two fingers joining to pump inside of you.

“You’re so tight- I can’t wait to stretch this pathetic little cunt of yours.” He growled out loud. You flustered with embarrassment at his words for a second, right before he suctioned his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, getting all shame thrown out the window as you wrapped your thighs tighter around his head, hands moving down to grab onto his inky locks. His fingers continued relentlessly pumping in and out of you in line with his tongue alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Soon enough, he had you writhing close to the edge, a saccharine sound leaving your mouth as you arched into his mouth, juices dripping down onto the sheets as you found your release.

Meeting his lips in a kiss once again as he came up, you moaned at the taste of yourself, bucking your hips upwards towards him as you felt his bulge against your stomach.

“Patience, little one, we’ve got all time in the world, and I plan to take good care of you.”

[monocaelia]

inazuma bound headcanons

their last goodbyes before you depart to the land of eternity.

feat. childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, xiao

warnings : inazuma spoilers, slight angst but mainly fluff

❀ childe

despite inazuma being a place not many have ventured to and from, childe isn't the slightest worried for your safety. he knows the dangers of the storming seas surrounding inazuma and of the situation the people of inazuma are in due to the vision hunt decree.

but he prides in the fact that you're strong enough to handle what inazuma has to offer to you. abyss, you've defeated him in battle, there's no way you can't handle a little thunderstorm.

the cheerful chirp of your name alerts your attention to the ginger haired harbinger as he approaches you on the streets of liyue harbor. you raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that he shouldn't be here and should be stationed at dragonspine.

before you can scold him about his responsibilities, he scoops you into his arms and spins you around. his laughter rings in your ears and you can't help but smile. any and all thoughts of being mad at him are washed away as soon as his eyes meet yours.

the rest of your day is spent with him, as he won't be able to see you off before your trip to inazuma. he buys you trinkets, food, slings an arm around your shoulders all so you could be reminded of him and how fun it is to spend time with him.

"you know, it's a shame i wasn't stationed in inazuma next. i would have loved to explore it with you and fight at your side for a while longer," childe muses to you as the streets of liyue begin to light up for the evening. his hand is in yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

"i'll miss you, a lot." your heart swells at his words, pulling him into a comforting embrace. your lips curve into a smile when his arms tighten themselves around you and you can't help but think that you'll miss him too.

"don't forget to send me letters about your visit to inazuma! or else i'll go over there and hunt you down myself, [name]!"

❀ diluc

diluc is not too thrilled to hear that you're departing to inazuma. not that he has anything against the nation, but he knows how hard it is to enter and leave and he knows of the situation the people under the shogunate are in.

but he isn't going to harp you on making sure you can protect yourself. he has faith in you that you'll have a safe voyage over and stay alive while on your journey in the land of eternity. he's seen you singlehandedly defeat and restore dvalin; there's no need to worry about your wellbeing.

his hand brushes against your cheek, moving the hair that curtained your slumbering face. you look so peaceful, so at ease resting against his lap as if you aren't about to set off overseas with no guarantee of your safe return.

you stir from your short slumber, leaning into his touch and diluc cannot help the small smile forming on his lips. "did you sleep well?" he asks, watching you as you slowly get up from his lap. you hum in response and stretch your limbs.

"have you finished packing for your trip?" diluc's question earns a slight frown from you and he raises an eyebrow. "you didn't finish preparing for inazuma, even though you're leaving soon?" diluc's assumption is proven correct when you begin twiddling your fingers and struggling to find a good excuse.

a sigh leaves his lips, getting up and offering you a hand. you bashfully take it. diluc hoists you up and you let out a little laugh when he sends an unamused frown your way. "i'm sorry! i was supposed to finish my preparations today, but i wanted to see you before i had to go."

it's a good thing that diluc has a soft spot for you, otherwise he would have given you the scolding of a lifetime. instead, he gently grasps your hand and flicks your forehead with his free hand before leading you inside the dawn winery so you could properly prepare for your journey overseas.

"i can't accompany you to inazuma, unfortunately, but i'll wish you a safe journey. take care, [name], i'll see you when you return."

❀ kaeya

kaeya is intrigued when you tell him that you'd be leaving for inazuma anytime soon. it's not often that people willingly want to enter storming seas and a land that isn't fond of people traveling to and from.

if anything, kaeya wants to tag along and fight by your side in inazuma. there's not much to do in mondstadt anyways. with jean and diluc keeping everyone in check kaeya didn't really have anything to do besides stir up some drama between the people of mondstadt or provoke enemies of mondstadt.

but he knows that shirking from his duties as captain of the calvary just to accompany you to inazuma wouldn't fare well with jean.

"i'm sad to see that our journey together ends here," kaeya tells you during your final visit to angel's share, for a while anyways. you roll your eyes and gently shove him with your shoulder. you know he's trying to pull at your strings from the way his sapphire eye glimmers in mischief.

"it's not going to be forever, you know. i'll be back before you know it," you reply, taking a sip of your drink. "you're acting like i'm going to inazuma and dying there." you bite back a smile when kaeya sighs dramatically and leans his entire bodyweight on you. a groan leaves your lips from the pressure.

"it's like i can still hear their voice." you snort and shove kaeya off of you, earning a snicker from the taller male. "say, [name], why don't we leave the bar and have a night of our own? just the two of us before you leave."

you pretend to ponder at his question for a moment, but say yes. you don't miss the way his lips curl into a feline smile, or the way his hand encases your own as he leads you out of the tavern and into the chilly evening of mondstadt.

but the chill doesn't bother you. not with kaeya's warm hand intertwined with yours as the two of you laugh and chatter in the warm glow of the street lamps lining the streets.

"are you sure you don't want me to tag along? wouldn't want you to miss me, haha. come back soon. don't keep me waiting."

❀ kazuha

knowing you're about to take off to the nation he escaped from puts him on edge, if he's being honest here. he knows of how brutal raiden shogun can be, stealing the visions of the innocent so she can remain eternal.

yet, seeing the reassuring smile adorning your face calms his nerves. he knows of your strength, of the rumors and tales of you fighting a dragon and a fatui harbinger, but he can't help but worry nonetheless.

his hand gently grasps your own, his fingers drawing shapes along the curves of your knuckles and brushing over the callouses that have formed on your fingertips. your head rests atop his shoulders as the two of you sit on the deck of the crux underneath the stars.

"is something on your mind?" you ask when he pauses in his ministrations. kazuha sighs, pausing briefly before replying to you.

"will you be okay? alone in inazuma, i mean. my homeland is a beautiful and wonderful place, but there is a corrupt and unjust leader ruling over it. i fear you'll be harmed and-"

"and you won't see me again?" you smile and pull away to meet your companion's gaze. there is a storm of worry in kazuha's ruby eyes and you hold his jaw in your hand, thumb rubbing calming circles on his cheek when he leans into your touch and holds your wrist.

"i'm stronger than you think, you've seen that firsthand. i'll be okay, kazuha." your reassuring words seemingly relax the inazuman traveller, but you can still sense the uncertainty surrounding him.

kazuha presses a gentle kiss against your inner palm before sliding his hand up to interlock your hands together.

"should anything happen to you, the wind will guide us together and i shall protect you. stay safe, dear [name]."

❀ xiao

xiao is a bit... unsettled when you give him the news that you're leaving for inazuma in a few days. it isn't often that you get to see him due to his job as one of liyue's yakshas and your travels across teyvat's lands.

he knows you'll be okay in inazuma, but he has no jurisdiction nor power in inazuma. his responsibility lies in liyue and he cannot leave until his duty to protect the nation of contracts has been fulfilled. yet, he wants to accompany you so he can assure your safety and survival against the stormy seas of inazuma.

"oh, there you are," your voice calms the worrying adeptus, even more so when your presence is beside him. he doesn't respond to you verbally, but he spares you a glance before fixing his gaze back to guili plains.

there's a comfortable silence between the two of you, neither of you feeling the need to speak up. but xiao's gentle voice breaks it with a statement you've been anticipating. "it's not too late to stay in liyue so i can dispose of those who harm you."

you turn to face him, not surprised at all to see his piercing eyes already staring at you. "i have to, i need to find my sibling and meeting the shogunate is the only way forward." his lips form a thin line at your answer.

your fingers inch forward to touch xiao's hand; he flinches when your fingers graze his out of instinct. but he grasps your hand before it can retreat, squeezing it as if it would make you stay beside him.

but he knows you have to go, have to find answers on the whereabouts of your sibling even if it meant risking your life.

"if i can't protect you, promise me you'll protect yourself. if you were to get hurt... forget it. just make sure you stay alive."