#chest hair and a beard I am absolutely doing fine thanks for asking

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash arriving in Buenos Aires

[princess-leaorgana]

Father Body

Baldur's Gate 3 Ficlet

Gale x Tavirel (My Tav)

Fluff, short and stupid

Trigger warning; Whole thing is about body weight.

Hmmm.

‘Yes?’

Gale Dekarios stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, fresh from a hot bath, towel about his hips, just staring at himself. This wasn’t incredibly unusual. Gale was the sweetest fellow a person could ever meet in Faerun, but he was always very fixated on how he looked. Couldn’t fool anyone, the coif and perfectly cut beard, along with his fine jewels and clothing, he was clearly a well groomed man. He always took care of his figure as well, which wasn’t common for a wizard, but Gale made sure to keep the old ticker in check. Well, until he married Tavriel and settled down. Working on his body was no longer at the top of his priority list. He couldn’t remember the last time he sparred with a dummy or let Tara treat him like target practice. Not since his little one was growing in her mother’s belly.

Hmm…..

‘What?’

When Tavriel got pregnant, Gale took it upon himself as the primary cook to keep his wife happily fed at all hours of the day. Keeping a fresh diet was important for a parent to keep their growing baby healthy and strong. This changed Gale’s diet as well, though he had no excuse to pack on the calories. He was not growing a child inside of him. Almost a year after Tavriel gave birth to their daughter, Gale’s body was certainly….softer than it had been. Than it had ever been. He knew he was gaining weight, but after a preen in the mirror, he was a little fixated on it.

Hmmmmm….

‘Gale, Yondallah be light, what are you doing?’

Gale turned from the mirror, where he had been making little sounds in reaction to his body, to see Tavriel, changing little Morena on their bed. She knew Gale had gained a little weight and his muscle mass was no longer defined, but she had gained three times his weight gain and was very sure she’d never lose it. Besides, she loved his soft belly and chest, the cellulite on his thighs under his bum, stretch marks slowly defining on his skin infer his thick body hair. It would have been more obvious that his body drove her wild if she was not as exhausted as she was caring for an infant. Gale looked at Tavriel, who was in a silk, long nightgown, giving him quite the look. He sighed and looked back at the mirror and pinched the skin near his navel.

‘I’m fat.’

This made Tavriel laugh and pick up little Morena and walk over to Gale. Morena was three months old and if there was a more loved little baby on the material plane, no one would have ever heard of them. Morena, or Rena to keep things easy, was a sweet chubby little baby, who resembled her father very much at such a young age. Brown eyes, straight brown hair and a round nose. She was dressed in a little blue sleep sack.

‘If you are fat, I am a whale.’ Tavriel retorted and watched him from the mirror. Gale scoffed.

‘’You are not a whale, ever since you gave birth to her, you’ve been sleeping on top of me at night. I am incredibly certain even though I have no experience in the matter, that I would have perished by now if you were a whale.’ Tavriel snorted at him. Rena cooed. Gale looked down at the little one, just cheeks and brown eyes she was.

‘I am still bigger than you,’ Tavriel retorted and Gale smirked and looked at her. Yes, Tavriel had gained weight. Of course she had. He would never go as far as saying she was bigger than him. Her tummy was, her hips were, but she wasn’t. And he wouldn’t entertain it. He loved the way she looked and the way she felt.

‘Absolutely inaccurate,’ he told her and she smiled up at him. She wouldn’t win that argument.

‘Mmmm well, regardless, I like how you look, my darling. You look so much more….domestic,’ she said and he laughed hard.

‘Oh well thank the gods for that,’ he said, holding his stomach and towel to his body. ‘I guess this is the final stage for which I am to accept that I am a father, eh?’ He asked once he calmed down and Tavriel shook her head.

‘No, that you are content,’ she said and Gale grinned. He was content. Exhausted, sure, but for the first time in his entire life, he was satisfied, would he still explore and learn? For the rest of his life, but he wanted for nothing anymore. He had it all, his health, his home, his companion and their little family. ‘And you’re a father whether or not you have that…very…nice shape,’ she said and gave a little giggle. Gale’s eyes grew and his eyebrows shot up.

‘What, do you like it?’ He asked and Tavriel giggled again and bit her bottom lip.

‘Yes,’ she admitted and shook her head. ‘Not that it matters, you know I love you no matter what but…’ she glanced at the mirror to see his full reflection. Yes, just like that, he was perfect. ‘I don’t know, it’s just…’ Gale leaned in close and kissed her cheek, knowing his wife too well to know she was not going to finish that sentence. He would take the compliment. Little Rena gurgled for attention and one of her arms poked out from its swaddle. Gale looked down at her and kissed her little hand. The baby grabbed at his lips, digging her nails into him with much more force than logically made sense for someone so little. A baby’s viper grip. Tavriel laughed as Gale groaned and helped him be free of her claws. ‘Alright, no more flirting, we’re going to clip those nails,’ she told Rena who just gave a stretch. She was a good baby, just a very strong one.

Tavriel walked Rena over to the bed and Gale got himself dressed in a sleep shirt and trousers. He helped hold Rena still so Tavriel could gently and safely cut the little one’s nails. Next was Tavriel’s favorite part of the night, Gale would read something to Rena to soothe her to sleep. It could be anything, Rena didn’t understand, but her father’s voice reading anything out loud made the little one drift off heavily into a deep slumber. It worked on Tavriel as well. Gale stopped reading when Tavriel got heavy as she leaned on him. He placed the book aside and took Rena from Tavriel who would get herself comfortable in bed. He kissed his daughter’s cheek and set her in her crib. He shuffled back to bed with a yawn and the moment he was in bed, Tavriel latched onto him from behind. He chuckled and Tavriel gave him a squeeze, spooning him and holding him as if she would fall off the bed otherwise.

‘I love you, Mister Dekarios,’ Tavriel whispered and lifted her head to kiss Gale’s ear. He placed his hand over her and twisted his head to kiss her lips.

‘I love you more, Missus Dekarios.’

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Part 5)

December 5: Peppermint Tea

Christmas was hard.

If Draco was being honest, everything was hard right now, even the small things. But Christmas, he thought as he and Harry stood on the icy sidewalk and surveyed the house, seemed nearly insurmountable.

"Have you done this before?" Harry asked, scratching at his beard as he stared calculatingly between the box of lights and the house.

"On the inside," Draco said. He took a fortifying breath before adding, "Mother always used to do them outside to surprise me."

Harry's eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he said, "Okay. We can do this," he said, nodding. "There's an outlet right by the porch, let's plug in there."

Draco watched as Harry plugged in the string of lights and then started to use sticking charms to hang them in place.

Levitating the lights to get them to outline the roof was out of the question, they soon learned. "I'm getting a ladder," Harry finally said.

"Should you be using a ladder?" he asked, remembering the way Harry's leg had seized yesterday.

Harry glared at him, "I'm sure that I'll manage just fine."

"Don't look at me like that," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm just saying, maybe I should be the one to go up on the ladder and you-"

"No," Harry said stubbornly as he transfigured a ladder out of a stick on the ground. "I will hang the lights and you will tell me if they're looking right."

"You're so stubborn sometimes," he groaned. "There are days that I am sure the only reason you're still alive is out of sheer force of will."

(Read more below the cut)

"I appreciate your concern," Harry said as he started to climb the ladder, "But I've got this."

He rolled his eyes, but watched him carefully, wand ready to cast and catch him at any moment. Draco couldn't very well let Harry get injured while hanging lights on his house. So he did the only thing he could do, he watched and he waited.

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

Hanging the lights went surprisingly, suspiciously well. Draco was just starting to breathe easier, because Harry was putting up the last strand, looping it around to meet the lights where they'd begun, when he leaned just a smidge to far, balancing on his bad leg as he did so.

The ladder tilted and Draco cast a spell to steady it but that seemed to over correct it so the ladder was now tilting toward Draco, and Harry was falling with an undignified screech.

Fortunately Helmi was also watching this unfold and flew up, grabbing Harry by the trousers and slowing his fall enough that Draco could catch him.

They stood completely still for an endless moment as Harry clung to Draco's shoulders and Draco held his waist, both of their hearts beating wildly in their chests.

"Well," Harry finally said, searching Draco's eyes for a moment, "It seems I've fallen for you."

Draco huffed a laugh, "You're ridiculous," he muttered but he could quite stop the smile that was curling the corner of his lips. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he said with a nod, "Thanks to you and Helmi."

At that, they both turned to look at the miniature dragon to see that she had flown up and was finishing the strand of lights herself.

"Good girl," Draco called before looking back at Harry, "You're sure you're alright?"

Harry nodded again, fingers clenching in Draco's coat.

He stared at Harry for a moment longer, admiring the way a rain drop had caught in his eyelashes and the deep complexity of greens within his eyes. He smelled faintly of coffee and treacle tart, and Draco had the fleeting desire to simply lean forward and lick his skin, to run his mouth over the short hair of Harry's beard, or along the delicate curve of his neck, or any number of places, to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

Draco didn't know how long they might have stood there staring at one another like absolute idiots, but Helmi made a plaintive growling noise and they turned to see her standing at the door, waiting to go inside.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly, releasing Draco like he'd been burned. "We should-"

"Come inside," Draco finished. "A warm drink and a biscuit is the least I can do after you've risked life and limb to hang up my Christmas lights."

Harry laughed and started off toward the door, walking a little gingerly, "Well I won't say no to warming up a bit." He looked over at Draco with a little smile, "Not when the company is so delightful."

"Flatterer," he huffed as he opened the door and let Helmi run in ahead of them to the bed in the living room that he'd gotten for her.

Harry started toward the kitchen but Draco nudged him the other way.

"Go sit," he said. "I can see your leg is bothering you."

"I'm not useless," Harry said, smile dropping immediately from his face.

Draco took a slow breath, and forced himself to recognize that Harry's reaction was not about Draco at all, before responding, "I know that. But you've just hung up all of the lights while I stood there and watched. Do you think maybe I could get you a cup of tea and a biscuit for your troubles? Or must you do everything?"

Harry huffed and looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he replied easily. "Go sit and thank Helmi for saving your life," he teased.

With a little nod, Harry headed into the living room and Draco went to the kitchen to make tea. He pulled down the box of peppermint tea that he and his mother used to drink during December and stared at the box for a long moment.

He let the sadness, the ache that never fully went away, rush through him. Let himself feel it for just a moment before putting the kettle on and opening the box.

Mother would have wanted them to enjoy it. She would have wanted him to enjoy everything.

He went through the motions of making the tea while he tried to pull himself together. When he got to the living room, Harry had lit the fire and he and Helmi were snuggled on the sofa together.

"It's like you don't know how to leave things alone," he teased, nodding at the fire. "Here," he added softly, holding out the cup to him before Harry could protest.

"Thanks," the other man replied, patting the sofa next to him and flicking his wand to dim the lights. "Would you tell me about your Christmases when you were little?" he asked wistfully.

Draco blinked, "If you want me to."

"I want you to," Harry said, closing his eyes like a child waiting to be read a story.

And so Draco did what they other man asked. He told him all about Christmas in the manor, about decorating, and baking, about setting up their four Christmas trees, and playing outside in the snow. He told him about his parents taking him to see Santa, about presents, and feasts, and parties. About all of the things that made Christmas feel like magic when he was little.

"What about you?" Draco asked. "Tell me about your Christmases."

Harry slowly stroked a hand down Helmi's spine, "I didn't really have Christmas until I went to Hogwarts."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just," he shrugged, "I wasn't allowed to be involved in Christmas things. I snuck a little red bauble into my cupboard once," he said. "It had rolled under the couch and when no one was looking, I took it and kept it in my cupboard. I would pull it out from under the clothes in my dresser after everyone had gone to bed, and just stare at it." He laughed softly, "At the time, I thought it was the most lovely thing I'd ever seen."

Draco, to his horror, felt tears choking him; strangling him and making it nigh impossible to get any words out. "That's awful."

Harry lifted a shoulder, staring down at Helmi to avoid looking at Draco. "It is what it is. After I started going to Hogwarts, it got better. It's all past now," he said resolutely.

Draco reached over Helmi and linked their fingers, not really sure what else to say.

"Thanks for letting me share all of your traditions," Harry murmured.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For everything," he added.

"Don't thank me yet," Harry replied, taking a sip of his tea and humming happily. "We still have nearly three weeks until Christmas. There's no telling what might happen between now and then. But I'll do my best."

Draco chuckled softly, his chest filling with the foreign feeling of hope as he looked at Harry's earnest face and realized that he would trust him with anything. "I know," he replied honestly, squeezing Harry's hand and letting himself fall just a little further.

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

December 4 | December 6

[doubleleoenergy]

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom. 

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide. 

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered. 

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together. 

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf​ | @certainaesthetic​

[musette22]

Local museum volunteer Chris explaining all the items and history facts to teacher Sebastian and his 20 kids on a school trip or to single dad Sebastian and his twins (one who is really into it and ask a lot of "but why?" And the other one who just sticks his fingers up his nose and yawns lmao)

Okay so I was just on a walk and I started thinking about this ask again (I am so so so sorry for how long it took me to reply to this, I suck wow) because I couldn’t get that new pic of Seb looking like a literal DILF out of my head, but I couldn’t remember the specifics so what came out is slightly different from what you suggested but not much – hope you still like it (I personally screamed into my fist multiples times while thinking about this – I’m furious at how cute this little scenario is, thank you so so much for this!)

Disclaimer: I literally wrote this just now so it’s unbeta’d and probably riddled with nonsense, but I hope you guys like nonetheless!  <3

*********************

“Hi, guys! Welcome to the Concord Museum. My name is Chris and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

Chris eyes the little family – a father and two young kids – standing in front of him in the entrance hall of the bite-sized museum, then makes a show of looking around the otherwise empty hall. “Seems like it’s a quiet one today, so you’ll have me all to yourself!”

The father smiles, his sparkling, blue-grey eyes crinkling in the corners in a way that Chris shouldn’t be thinking of as ‘adorable’, but does nonetheless.

“Fantastic,” the man says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris. This is Margot,” – he gestures to the girl of about eight standing next to him – “and this little guy here is David,” he adds, lightly bouncing the three or four-year-old, curly haired boy on his hip. David gives Chris a wide eyed look before promptly burying his face in his father’s neck. “He’s a little shy,” the dad says fondly.

“That’s fine,” Chris tells them. With a smile, he ducks his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. I’m a little shy myself sometimes, you know.”  

“I’m not shy,” Margot pipes up.

“No,” her dad agrees with a chuckle, “you certainly are not.”

Chris turns his eyes back to their father’s face. “And your name..?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I’m Sebastian.” He holds out his hand for Chris to shake, warm and dry with long, elegant fingers that fit nicely against Chris’s own, studier ones.

Sebastian, Chris thinks. Perfect name for a perfect guy. The term ‘DILF’ flashes unbidden through Chris’s mind – wildly inappropriate, given the circumstances, but oh so accurate. Sebastian has a sweet, charming smile, incredible bone structure, and dark, wavy hair, swept up in a quiff-like style that manages to make him look both sophisticated and a little boyish at the same time. There’s a hint of grey at his temples as well as in his beard that has Chris placing him at maybe two or three years older than himself.

“New York?” Chris guesses, as he reluctantly lets go of Sebastian’s hand.

“That’s right,” Sebastian nods. “Well, formerly, anyway. We just moved to the area, actually.”

“Oh, really? What brought you all the way out here?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; a nervous habit, perhaps. “Oh, um. My ex-wife got a job in Boston last year, and I didn’t want to be too far from her and the kids, so I decided to follow suit. Only moved down here last month. This is my first full weekend with these guys at my new place, so I thought I’d take them out to do something cultural, learn a little about the local history, y’know?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that here,” Chris assures him. “In fact,” he adds sheepishly, “that’s kinda all we've got.”

Sebastian laughs, causing Chris’s brain to glitch, which is probably why the next thing that comes out of his mouth is – “Divorce, huh? I’m sorry, that must’ve been tough.”

When Sebastian doesn’t answer straight away, Chris wants to kick himself for running his big, stupid mouth. As usual. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “That’s none of my business. Just tryin’ to make small talk, but I always seem to forget I’m really bad at that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian assures him, flashing Chris a quick smile. “Thank you. These things are never easy, but it’s better this way, you know?”

“They’re not fighting or anything,” Margot chimes in again, from a few feet below. “Mommy and daddy only got divorced because mommy’s a girl and daddy likes boys better than girls. Right, daddy?"

Well. Chris tries not to be too obvious about glancing at Sebastian’s face to see his reaction to that bombshell his daughter just dropped, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a moment as if praying for strength. “That's right, sweetheart,” he says with a grimace. “But I'm sure Chris doesn't need to hear about all that."

Chris begs to differ – he’s actually extremely interested in hearing about all this, but before he has a chance to say anything in reply, Margot squares her jaw and crosses her football jersey-clad arms.

“Why not?” she asks defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Some girls just like girls and some boys like boys, it’s totally normal. It’s not prola- probu –" She sighs in frustration, looking up at her dad, who’s watching her with something like pride on his handsome face.

“Problematic?”

“Yeah,” Margot concurs, “not probametic.”  

Chris hums in agreement. “It’s not, you’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you what,” he tells her conspiratorially, “I happen to like boys better, too.”

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”

“I do.”

Suddenly, Margot’s little face lights up, her shrewd eyes flitting to her dad’s face for a second, then back to Chris. “Do you like my dad?”

“Margot,” Sebastian cuts in, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “That’s enough, honey.” When he tuns back to Chris to give him an apologetic look, Chris can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find me the perfect man ASAP, or I’ll waste away or something.”

Chris laughs, throwing back his head in genuine mirth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he assures them, then claps his hands together to change the precarious subject. “So, who’s ready to learn a little bit about what living in Concord was like over a hundred years ago?”

******

Chris always enjoys volunteering at the museum – it’s nice to give something back to the community that’s been his home for his entire life, and to chat to visitors from all over who have come to visit the land of Little Women, among other things – but what Chris likes best is when he gets to show kids around the place. Some of them need to be won over (after all, a dusty old museum isn’t quite as exciting as a trip to Disney World), but others are instantly captivated by the strange objects and old-timey atmosphere – Sebastian’s kids, fortunately, seem to fall in the latter category.

There’s one room in particular that’s an invariably a favorite with kids – the one that houses the old children’s toys. Trains, dolls and dollhouses, most of them made from wood, all arranged in a colorful parade, with a few screens set up in front of the glass display cases on which kids can watch animations of the toys being used. To Chris’s delight, Margot and David are both immediately taken with the display, David pressing his nose against the glass while Margot fires off question after question that Chris answers patiently and to the best of his ability.

“You sure know a lot about them,” Sebastian remarks, not without a hint of admiration, once Chris has finished explaining the mechanics of the miniature train set.

“Ah.” Chris rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m something of a toy enthusiast myself. I’ve actually got a carpentry workshop – that’s my real job,” he explains. “I’m just a volunteer here – and I dabble in some toy making sometimes, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding. I used to want to be a toy maker when I was a kid, you know,” he says wistfully. “Probably just saw Pinocchio one too many times, but it just seemed like the best job in the world to me, at the time.”

“It kinda is,” Chris grins at Sebastian, getting lost in his dancing grey eyes for a moment. “So what did you end up doing for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a journalist. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It’s enriching, challenging. But there’s just something about working with your hands, creating something tangible, something useful…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Chris nods. He bites his lip, hesitating for just a moment before deciding to bite the bullet. “Hey, I don’t know if you guys have plans after this, but my shift ends in a few minutes. I live pretty close, maybe a ten minute drive – if you want, I could show you my workshop? Maybe the kids can try out some of the things I’ve been working on, see if they’re actually any fun to play with?”

There’s an excited collective gasp from the kids, both of them immediately turning big, hopeful eyes on their father. “Oh, daddy,” Margot pleads, tugging on his sleeve. “Can we go see the workshop, pleaaase?”  

Chris tries to ignore the way his stomach drops when Sebastian visibly hesitates.

“I don’t know, guys.” Sebastian looks back at Chris. “I don't want to intrude. It’s almost dinner time on a Saturday. I’m sure you’ve got plans, maybe with your partner..?”

Oh, Chris thinks, chest expanding with hope. He shakes his head. “No partner,” he says, holding Sebastian’s gaze. “Just a dog.”

“A dog?” Margot squeals. “Oh my god, daddy, he’s got a dog. We have to go.”

Sebastian chuckles, rolling his eyes. "They've been hounding me about a dog for months, excuse the pun. I want one too, but I'm just not sure I'm home enough.”

Chris nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it can be tricky if you work full-time, but there’s usually a solution for this kind of thing, in my experience.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Margot interrupts, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“He’s called Dodger,” Chris tells her, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he talks about his beloved, four legged-rescue.

From Sebastian’s other side, a small voice suddenly joins in. “Like the one from Oliver?” asks David. His big, brown eyes are wide as he stares up at Chris.

“That’s right,” Chris confirms, dropping to his haunches to level the playing field a little. “Exactly like the one from Oliver. You like that movie, huh?”

David nods, looping one arm around one of his dad’s long legs while clearly fighting the urge to hide behind him completely. “It’s my favorite,” he mutters, then quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth to signal the end of the conversation.

“Really?” Chris asks, beaming at him. “It’s my favorite, too!”

David actually smiles at that, doing an excited little wiggle on the spot. “Daddy, can we go see Dodger, please?” he asks his dad, not bothering to remove his thumb from his mouth.

From his spot on the floor, Chris looks up Sebastian too, probably looking just as hopeful as the kids are – maybe even more so.

Smiling, Sebastian shakes his head. “Sure, buddy,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “How could I resist all these cute little faces, huh?”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids that gives Chris a much-needed moment to recover from the euphoria of hearing Sebastian call him cute. Well, sort of.

“Alright,” Chris says, getting to his feet again. “I’ll just go grab my things. Meet you guys in the parking lot?”

“Sounds good.”

Chris nods and is about to head in the direction of the staff room, when Sebastian halts him with a hand on his arm. Chris stops in his tracks, swallowing as he tears his gaze away from Sebastian’s elegant hand on his bicep, back to his face.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, giving him a look from under his eyelashes that can only be described as coy. “I really appreciate this, you know.”

Holding Sebastian’s gaze, Chris lifts a hand to cover Sebastian’s with his own, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s my pleasure,” he replies honestly. “Trust me.”

Smiling, Sebastian bites his lip, no doubt noticing the way Chris’s eyes flicker down to his mouth when he does. “I do.”

Chris’s foolishly romantic heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“See,” Margot says suddenly from beside them, breaking the moment and sounding awfully smug about it, too. “Not prolametic at all.”

Chris barks out a laugh while Sebastian covers his eyes with his hand. “Whatever you do, never have kids.”  

“Oh, I dunno,” Chris chuckles, giving Margot a wink and David’s hair a quick ruffle. “I kinda like yours.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “Alright, guys. Let’s go find your jackets and we’ll go see what Chris has in store for us, huh?”

[forthehpfanboys]

Under the Stairs

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Sirius has about 0 control over his hands during dinner. That's about it. Oh, and sex by the stairs.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), kinky, dirty talk, exhibitionism, kinda and bad writing. If I missed any please dm me.

Notes: It's gay, man. And I am so, so sorry for how long this took. This took so long, I’m sorry.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

“Sirius!” You smacked his hand away from your thigh for the fifth time that night. You were just trying to enjoy your dinner surrounded by your friends and family and Mr. Grabby Hands next to you was making it hard to do so. Like, couldn’t you eat in peace? Was that so much to ask for? 

Sure, you missed the animagus more than anyone could understand, but Merlin’s beard, he was exceptionally grabby tonight and it was starting to get on your nerves, especially since Harry was just across the table with his best friend's family. All nine members and then some, but did Sirius care? No, not at all. Did he ever care? Nope. Once, he fucked you against the wall separating your shared room and Lupin's room. He truly held no shame.

“What?” He turned to look at you, his head tilting to the side. “What’s wrong, love? I thought you missed me.” He grinned at your red cheeks. Godric, you wanted to pull on his hair. You tried to act like your trousers’ weren’t just a tiny bit tighter than when you first sat down.

“I missed you, not your left hand.” You hissed out, smacking his hand away again. “There are actual children!” Your eyes darted around the table. No one seemed to notice what was going on between you two, thank Merlin.

Your nostrils flared when Sirius let out a chuckle, his hand running through his fingers before he nodded. You audibly squeaked when he tugged the side of your chair so you were shoulder to shoulder with him. You smacked his chest, hoping he got the gist with a final glare.

“Fine, fine. I got the message. I’ll be good.” Sirius placed his hand on your knee this time, his thumb running along the fabric of your jeans while he engaged in the conversation with his old friend.

You let out a quiet thank you, your head filled with doubt, before going back to eating. You eyed the hand under the table when you felt it shift. He was shifting the ring on his finger so the jewel was in a more comfortable position before it went still again. 

It wasn’t until you were bringing your cup to your lips that you felt the hand move quickly to the space between your legs. You jumped when his palm grinded against your hardening flesh through your jeans, your thighs clamping around the hand. You slammed the cup down, your other hand catching the dribbles of water that escaped. Your head snapped over to him just in time to see him winking at you while raising his own glass to his smirking lips.

The hand that was now free from the glass grabbed his wrist while you wiped your face down. You bit down on your palm when he began to grind against your bulge. Your eyelids fluttered for a second but you snapped out of the state when Harry turned to you, a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice cracked in the middle and you played it off like water went down the wrong pipe with a fake couch. Harry just waved off the excuse and scooted closer, the smile as bright as ever.

“I was just wondering if Hermione, Ron and I could check out a muggle shop in town tomorrow? We really wanna show him other ports besides quidditch.” 

“Quidditch is the only sport that matters!” Ron shouted at Harry, causing you to snicker. You borderline forgot about the hand caressing your dick and the man basically sitting on top of you.

“Sure, if Molly let’s the twins go with you. You need some form of an adult between you there and Hermione needs a break.” You let out a laugh when the twins began to argue with Harry, something over products and quidditch being the only thing that matters and Hermione shouting a loud ‘thank you!!”. Honestly, at this point you were losing your train of thought. The palm against your pelvis was adding pressure, making you bite your tongue. 

“I say, love.. For someone who protested so hard, you sure got hard very quickly.” Sirius’ sultry voice whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver and flush a bright pink. You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back against the spine of the chair.

“Shut it, Black.” You mumbled through a clenched jaw. Your hips jumped forward when his hand slipped into your pants, palming your flesh. Your toes curled against the wooden floor, a needy whine leaving your throat. 

You barely registered when everyone began to say goodnight and flee from the dining room in the same chaotic mass they came in as. Once you heard the last floorboard creak and the last door shut, you let your forehead hit the table, a whimper leaving your lips.

“Finally!” Sirius laughed out, his hand now gripping your cock in your pants, his hand moving slowly up and down. “I thought they’d never go upstairs, didn’t you, love?” He paid special attention to the head, using your pre as lubricant to make it easier. He chuckled louder when a moan escaped your lips.

“Fuck you.” You mumbled into the table cloth, your hands grasping at the wooden table for stability. Fuck, he may have been gone for 12 years, but he still knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Oh, I fully intend on us fucking tonight, doll.” He smirked when you twitched in his hand. He knew how much you loved pet names. “How about we finish this elsewhere, hmm?” 

“But Lupin just went off to bed. I’d rather not get caught tonight.” You gave him the side eye as he pulled his hand away from between your legs and stood up. His eyes glanced down at you, a chuckle causing his shoulders to bounce up and down.

“I never said we’d do it in the bedroom, love.” He offered out his hand, a dirty smirk clear as day across his lips, causing you to blush. He sure did love his sneaky sex. “Of course.. Why would I assume we couldn’t just use a silencing charm and have a grand time behind a locked door.” You grumbled out, taking his hand and standing up. You were even less surprised when Sirius led you away from the dining table and to the living room, swiftly pulling you against him. “But no, we always have to experiment.” You put your hands on his shoulders when he pressed his face into the side of your neck. 

“You know you love being dirty like this, love.” His breath fanned over your neck, leaving you to shudder. He gently led you back against a wall, his hands pressed into your hips. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” You whined out, leaning your head to the side allowing the man to pepper open mouthed kisses along your skin. You licked your lips, your mouth dryer than any desert on Earth. 

“I’m not!” Sirius was laughing against your skin, one of his hands traveling south. “I just know how you get, you do have a pretty solid tell.” His hand ran across your bulge, leading your squeak to echo in the dark room. “See, love? This tells me everything.” His mouth worked its way around the front of your throat, licking a warm trail right across your bobbing adam's apple. You tossed your head back against the wall, giving the male more room to ravage you. 

You looked up to see the wall he’d pressed you up against wasn’t much of a wall at all. It was the door belonging to the cupboard under the stairs. If anyone walked down the stairs and bothered to glance down at their feet, or over the railing, they’d see you two easily. It was kinda a turn on. His hand unbuttoned your jeans before pushing them down to the floor. 

“Sirius, come on.” You whined out, your own hands going to unbutton his shirt. You shuddered when he chuckled into your neck. 

“Ok, Ok. I got it, love.” His lips finally met yours in a kiss as your hands pushed the shirt off his shoulders, allowing it to flutter to the floor. His fingers slid under your shirt, his cold hands moved up across your chest before sliding the shirt off your shoulders. Once he’d successfully thrown it across the room, he pressed his lips to yours again, his hands going straight for the underside of your thighs. “Jump.” His raspy voice was back in your ear again.

Once you were sure your arms were wrapped securely around his neck, you jumped up, allowing him to maneuver your legs around his waist. With your ankles locked against his lower back, his hands moved down your thighs and straight to your ass. This man always held back absolutely nothing during your private times together, so of course this time was no different.

Sirius let out a moan when you began to grind against him. To retaliate, he grabbed the elastic of your boxers, pulled it off of your hips and made it snap back against your ass. He ignored your squeak and began to cast a few basic spells- cleansing, maybe stretching- you weren’t sure. All too quickly, he was whispering against your ear again. The stupid tease.

“Don’t tease me, lovie. I will not hesitate to make you scream my name loud enough to make the walls shake.” His hand tugged your boxers down past the swell of your ass, but made sure the top covered you, in case someone did happen to come down. Sirius was risky, but knew literal children were sleeping upstairs. 

He balanced you on his hips with one hand and used the other to tug himself free. He stroked his dick, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip as weak pleasure filled his nerves. Your eyes were automatically drawn to the precum dribbling from the swollen head. At the sight of it, you felt an insatiable itch form in your stomach and a whine left your lips as the white liquid rolled over his fingers and dropped to the floor. 

“Sirius, come ON.” You urged, your hands moving to his long hair. He grinned at how needy you were despite your attitude earlier. He always loved when you’d throw away the pride, the worry, and finally give into him. Sirius gave you a soft peck on the lips and chuckled.

“Alright, pup, alright.” His eyes twinkling with mischief and a quick wink was sent your way. Sirius planted his hands firmly against your ass, spreading your cheeks while mumbling a few spells to prep you. He enjoyed the squeak you made when the lubrication spell kicked in. “It’s cold.”

“No shit.” You griped out, teeth digging into your bottom lip while your heel dug into his lower back, begging Sirius to actually do something. “Babe, I’m wilting like a flower.” You tried to use your legs to tug him forward.

“Aw, I’m sorry, lovie.” He spoke while finally easing into you, and he continued to speak over your moan. “Feels good, huh?” He chuckled, raising a hand to cover your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, darling, or else we’ll have to stop. And you don’t want that right now, do you? We’ve come this far.” Sirius was just teasing you. Such a surprise. 

You grabbed onto his wrist, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your skull when he began to move his hips against you. He couldn’t help but smirk at the whimpers and cries and whines leaving your lips. The wizard was definitely grateful his hand was covering your lips because when he picked a harsh rhythm, and began to rock you higher up the wall with each thrust, your moans raised in volume.

“I do wish you could see how needy you look, stud. It’s breathtaking.” Sirius’ eyes noted how your eyes slowly turned glossy and your cheeks turned hot against his hand. “Absolutely amazing.” He breathed out. He moved his hand to brace the wall allowing him to raise the intensity of your pleasure, but also tuck his head against your neck and trail the skin with kisses. "Try to keep quiet for me, pup."

With that demand, he began to push into you harder and deeper, purposefully dragging a sound out of you despite his demand. You released a whimper loud enough for it to echo in the silent house and his hand smacked against your ass, leaving a louder echo behind. His chest dug into yours, allowing you to feel every shallow breath that left his lungs. It almost felt intimate despite the lustful evening. 

 You bit your tongue, ignoring the taste of iron as you rested your head against his shoulder. With ease thrust, stars were dancing across your vision and your body was sliding higher up the wall. Eventually, you got sick of the taste of your own blood so you sunk your teeth into his shoulder. The sound of skin slapping skin was almost deafening, but the worry about the noise waking anyone was far from the front of your thoughts. 

“You close?” Your voice was rough and crackly, even through the short sentence. You were. Your own cock was throbbing and leaking between your legs, it’s only stimulation being your husband’s stomach rubbing against the underside.

Sirius nodded his head, his hips coming to a stop before he was shifting his arms again. One twisted around your waist, propping you up while the other wrapped around your dripping cock, causing you to toss your head back against the wall with a thud and suddenly you were putty in his hands.

“Oh, shit, Siri.” You bit down on your bottom lip, your back arching off the wall when his thumb grazed the underside of your head. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the curled roots as a reflection of his hand dragging up and down your cock. You weren’t sure if it was moaning his name, or your walls twitching around his cock, but he was teetering on the edge.

“Where do you want it?” His hips slowed, allowing you to actually think and to postpone his orgasm. His hand around your leaky dick, however, did not stop. 

“Oh, fuck, in me. We can shower after this.” You let out a weak giggle, your toes flexing behind his back. He raised his head from beside your neck, revealing his dark eyes, mischievous smirk and tongue sticking out.

“I knew you were dirty. Merlin, I love you.” He purred out, his nose booping yours before he picked up the rough pace again. He wanted to see your eyes rolling back, your mouth hanging open and the beads of sweat on your forehead dripping down your skin. It didn’t take long for him to cum inside you, his lips pressing against yours hard enough to bruise. He had to hide his cry of pleasure somehow. 

Your hands moved from his hair, to his cheeks, keeping him close during the kiss. You always loved his kisses. His lips were between soft and firm, and he poured his passion into every single kiss and it just made your heart flutter. His hips lost rhythm before coming to a stop. He pulled from the kiss, but didn’t move far away. Sirius still wanted to see you finish.

“Come on, love. You can do it.” He smiled, his eyes filled with admiration. The marauder’s hand never stopped jerking in rapid motions, quickly bringing you over the edge with a cry. He pressed his lips against yours a second too late. He didn’t stop until you were trying to wiggle away from his moving hand and whimpering against his lips. “Amazing, lovie.” His voice was breathy and soft and amazing.

“Thank you, Siri. You were amazing, too.” Your voice was closer to nonexistent at this point and it filled Sirius with pride. You ran your hand along your forehead, wiping the extra sweat away from your skin.

“Don’t you mean ‘amazing like usual’?” He giggled, kissing your forehead and kinda smushing his cheek against yours, pulling a matching chuckle out of you. He just kinda held you close, cuddling you into the wall.

“Are you two done?”

Both of you looked up at the same time to see Remus leaning against the railing. He looked about the same amount of disappointed as usual. Sirius waved up to his friend, a grin spread across his lips. He pulled out of you and tucked himself away, doing the same to you as he spoke to his friend.

“Oh, hey Moony! How long have you been up?” Sirius set you down gently before wiping his hands off on his jeans. He was still smiling like a teenager coming back from spring break to their best friend.

“Enough time to know you two are disgusting. Go to bed. There are literal children here.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he turned and went back up to his bedroom.

“Oops. I think he’s mad at me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss of his happiness, but can we shower now?”

“Of course, but I’m going to need time to grieve.”

“Do it in the shower.”

[bugsbucky]

Wrong Side of The Bed

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Platonic)

Request: Could I request one where Bucky is in a bad mood and accidentally snaps at reader who is very shy and timid and she spends the day in her room and won't even come out for dinner? Fluffy ending if possible?

Warnings: language, Bucky snaps under pressure, angst, fluff :)

Word Count: 1,438

Authors Notes: thank you so much for the request anon!!! Hope this exceeds your imagine :) thank you very much for reading.

Requested by: Anonymous

The compound was very quiet as you took light steps towards the common room, nibbling your thumb nail on the journey. It was around 8am and still early, most of the team were away on missions or still asleep. There were just a few left at the compound to house sit; you, Bucky, Tony and Bruce. They spent most of their time in the lab working on some unnamed scientific projects so you were more often than not left to your own devices around the home. 

As you stepped into the open kitchen, you froze in your place. Bucky was leaning on the counter with his head propped up in his hand, spooning big mouthfuls of cereal in his mouth, milk dripping off the spoon and disappearing into his beard. You tried to make yourself invisible and as quiet as possible as you walked around the counter and poured some coffee.

“What, you’re not even gonna say good morning?” Bucky scoffed from his seat. With glossy eyes, you turned to look at him, astonished he would speak to you like that because he never has in the past.

“Go- good morning Sergeant Barnes.” your voice was cracked and quiet as you spoke. A shy and timid young individual not used to being called out like that. You could tell today wasn’t going to be a good day just by the scowl etched on Bucky’s face. He had deep bags under his eyes and you were wondering if he was okay.

“Good morning peeps!” Tony sighed walking in and seeing the thunderous look on Bucky’s face. “Good morning to you grump.” 

“Fuck off Tony.” your heart thudded painfully in your chest by his tone. This was definitely a different side to Bucky, one you have not seen yet. Tony left with his coffee and walked into the common room to fiddle with the large TV mounted on the wall.

“Um Bucky, would you like some more coffee?” you asked quietly, the liquid splashing inside the pot from your shaking hands.

“NO!” his voice boomed through the quiet kitchen. “Does it look like I’m an incapable old man who can’t make his own coffee?”

“Of course not, I just thought I would offer to-”

"JUST DROP IT Y/N! I'm so sick of you acting like my fuckin' caretaker, always following me around like some weird... you know what. Forget it." Bucky roared inches from your face. Throwing his cup against the tiled wall behind you, shattering the porcelain into pieces.

You flinched by his sudden outburst, covering your face. You didn’t mean to make him angry. But your question had somehow triggered him and now you were leaning against the cupboard fiddling with the hem of your shirt awkwardly. Tears already spilling.

You were shy by nature. So being screamed at by the man you most respected caused you to turn to mush. Your legs were jelly and your chin wobbled when Tony rushed in to see what was going on. Eyes widened in shock from the mess on the floor and the state of you.

"Y/N? Are you okay? Did he- did he hurt you?" Tony asked reluctantly. Knowing full well that Bucky would never, ever hurt you. But by your trembling state he had to make sure.

"Fine." Your voice cracked. Blinking harshly to will away the tears wanting to overflow. "I'm just..." You pushed away from the unit, pointing towards the door. Your wobbly legs carried you back to your room. Your mind clouded in a thick fog. You knew you were walking but it felt like you were floating.

***

Bucky regretted his outburst. You were one of the sweetest and most angelic people on the team, you weren’t rowdy like the others. He was laying on his back in his bed staring up at the ceiling with his hands under his head. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, no sleep last night from the realistic nightmare that plagued his dreams. Bucky was tired and exhausted, physically and mentally. 

To calm himself down, Bucky decided to take a hot shower. They always made him feel a little bit better, he would certainly need to change his ugly mood before he could apologize to you. He walked into his conjoined bathroom and turned the shower on, stripping himself of his clothes and standing under the raining shower head, letting the hot water trickle down over his face and down his chest. Droplets racing against each other, his hands ran through his damp locks as he shook your distressed state from his mind. *** You spent the day huddled up on your bed, skipping dinner and cuddling your large teddy bear Bucky had bought you for your birthday. The bears were a comfort since you were scared of thunderstorms. Your eyes were red from crying and your cheeks were still wet as you made no effort to wipe them. The rain pelted against the window panes and the sky was dark with rain clouds. You gently placed your bear on the floor and got up to close your blinds, slipping into your most comfortable pair of pyjamas and dimmed the lights, you climbed under the duvet and looked for something to watch on Netflix. 

You’re not sure what time it was, or how much time had passed when a knock on your door jolted you awake suddenly. The netflix logo screen staring back at you from afar. 

“Come in.” you croaked, your voice tired from sleep and crying yourself to death earlier. Bucky’s hulking figure walked in, a guilty and puppy dog look on his face. You took a second to marvel at his incredible physique. A tight white shirt pulled across his chest, showcasing his incredible pecs that you often found yourself blushing at every time you saw them, matched perfectly with his grey sweatpants and white socks. 

This was not the time Y/N. He yelled at you, remember?

“Hey doll. Can I talk to you?” Bucky asked sheepishly. He looked tired, but calmer.

“Of course.” you patted the empty spot next to you on the bed and Bucky smiled, taking a few strides over towards your bed and making himself comfortable. You sat up, crossing your legs and faced him. His shower gel permeated your room, overtaking the vanilla scented candle on your nightstand.

“I uh…” he shook his head and clicked his tongue. His tongue poking through his dry lips to wet them. “I’m really really sorry for what I said to you today. I hope you know I meant none of it. I was and am just so tired, no sleep.” he explained and you worried your lip with your teeth, taking bits of skin off from the surface. Bucky became worried when you didn’t speak but instead acting anxious and nervous around him. He knew he scared you earlier but he needed you to know he would never hurt you. 

“I’m really sorry I scared you earlier doll. I promise I didn’t mean to, it really did just get on top of me and I promise I’ll never do that again. I’m the biggest idiot.” a lopsided smile appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but mimic the action.

“I’m really sorry that I made you angry.” you said in barely a whisper, dipping your head in shame. Bucky sat up and pulled you into his lap, your head resting against his chest above his heart as his fingers trailed through your hair. 

“I want to make something clear…” his chest vibrated against your face as he spoke. “You did NOT make me angry. You did nothing but show your kindness towards me and you did not deserve those words thrown at you doll and I am seriously so sorry. You’re such an angel and I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole day.” You craned your neck upwards and smiled. Bucky sought confidence and kissed your forehead as a blush petted your cheeks adorably. “Why are you such a sweetheart, doll? You should kick my ass.” 

You giggled and Bucky hugged you tighter. “I accept your apology.” Bucky smiled at that, and pressed another kiss to your forehead, this time his lips lingered a little longer.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Do you wanna watch a movie?” you nodded your head enthusiastically and went to move off his lap when his arms tightened, eliciting a giggle from you. “I’m gonna go grab us some snacks and drinks and then I’m gonna cradle you in my arms.” 

Your adorable shy giggle pulled at his heart strings and he would keep his promise and absolutely make it up to you in whatever way he could.

Tags: @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @deanthedemon @crushedbyhyperbole @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @littleredstarfish​

[jobean12-blog]

Parent Problem

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Dad!bucky and hubby x reader)

Word Count: 1,220

Summary: It’s your daughter’s first day of 2nd grade and Bucky makes a production at drop off :)

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club back to school week celebration and the continuation of drunk drabbles and the fun prompt below. I love dad!bucky and I like making him soft and sweet but also sexy and clearly the hottest dad that ever existed. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Sweet fluffy love, sassiness on everyone’s part, fun, sexy Bucky, Bucky with a baby...

Your daughter bursts into the bathroom, the dog hot on her heels, “Mama, Daddy burned my pancake and I’m hungry and we can’t be late for the first day of school!” You peek out from behind the shower curtain, smiling at Samantha and the dog, “hi baby. Ok, I’ll be right out, and I can help daddy.” She doesn’t look satisfied but nods and walks out, taking Winter with her.

The smell of burnt food is the first thing that greets you when you enter the kitchen followed by your sheepish looking husband standing over the sink, scrubbing the pan. “Hey doll, I started the pancake, then she got upset about her hair and I tried to fix it and, in the meantime, forgot the pancake and well…” You kiss him softly, going to the freezer and grabbing a waffle. “It’s ok baby, she likes these too and it will be quick.”

Sam walks into the kitchen with her backpack and sits at the table, staring the two of you down. “Did you make a waffle mama; those are quick right?” You point to the toaster oven and give her a thumbs up, smoothing your hand down Bucky’s chest before checking Sam’s lunch. “We’ll be fine honey, don’t worry.”

She doesn’t look convinced, tapping her fingers along the table while she waits for her food. Bucky sits across from her, mimicking the tapping with his metal hand and smiling. “Daddy, what are you doing?” He shrugs, trying not to let his smile grow, “nothing baby girl. Just waiting for breakfast.” Sam rolls her eyes playfully and gets up, rounding the table to sit in Bucky’s lap.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, realizing he is himself. “No! I’m ready for 2nd grade daddy! I can’t wait to show Ava my schoolbag and all my new stuff.” Bucky chuckles, letting out a breath and kissing her head. The baby monitor starts to blink red and the small cries of your 7-month-old ring out through the kitchen.

“I’ll get her doll face, you finish breakfast.”  Bucky gently sets Sam down then heads upstairs. The sound of Rose’s crying stops as soon as Bucky walks in the room and you grab the monitor to watch him pick her up and hold her against his chest. You can’t stop the sigh that leaves your lips at the sight of them and Sam stands on the kitchen chair to peek over your shoulder.

“Why are you sighing Mama? What’s wrong?” You drag your eyes from the scene on the monitor and smile softly, “nothing at all my sweet, your daddy is so handsome, and I just love you all so much.” Sam nods enthusiastically, hugging you around the waist, “l love you too Mama and he is the most handsome.” Bucky’s eyes lock onto the camera in the corner of the room, his grin wide when he asks, “you know I can hear you both, right?”

You stick your tongue out and shut it off, Bucky walking into the room soon after with a haughty smile and Rose in his arms. She drops her pacifier on the floor and starts to cry. Bucky retrieves it and makes sure it’s clean before putting it back in her mouth. She doesn’t take it and continues to whimper so he sets it down and takes her small chubby hands in his, placing them on his beard. She immediately quiets and starts pulling at the hairs, giving him a drooly smile.

“She likes it almost as much as you do,” he gloats, winking your way. “Mmmmm, well we have very different reasons for it,” you tease, leaning down to kiss him. “Can you guys please stop. We need to leave in 5 minutes.” Sam takes the last bite of her waffle and gets up, shaking her head on the way to get her shoes.

“When did 7 become 17?” Bucky asks, his eyes soft with emotion. “Just wait until they are both big.” You give him a horrified look and drop the dishes in the sink, rinsing your hands and grabbing the bags. “Come on, let’s go pack up the car.”

When you arrive in front of the school, Bucky grabs Rose and you get Sam out of the car and situated. Bucky takes out his phone and hands Sam her ‘first day of 2nd grade’ sign. “Ok, baby girl, let’s see that big smile.” She smiles candidly, waiting until he snaps a bunch of photos. “Ok now all of us.” Squeezing between the two of you and Rose she makes a silly face while Bucky holds his long arm out to take some more.

You lean over and kiss his cheek in one and then nibble on Rose’s hands still stuck in his beard in another. After a few more silly ones you all stand and Bucky puts his phone back in his pocket before dragging you in for a sweet kiss on the lips. Sam’s disgruntled voice interrupts you, “really daddy. You’re always kissing mama. Too much PDA.”

Bucky’s eyebrows draw together, and he looks to you, “what is she talking about?” Rose gives a particularly hard tug on his beard and he let’s out a yelp, laughing when she giggles. He bends down to Sam and kisses her cheek, “have a good day honey. And stop using words daddy doesn’t understand. You’re only 7.”

She crosses her small arms over her body and sticks out her hip, “daddy, P D A means public display of affection. Everyone knows that.” His eyes go wide, and he stands, “how do you know that?” Sam’s eyes shift to you and she smiles mischievously, “ask mama, I have to go to school.” She wraps her arms around your legs as best she can before skipping off to find her friends.

“Ok baby, let’s hear it.” You brush him off nonchalantly and keep your eyes on Sam, her happy little dance making you smile. Bucky circles his free arm around your waist and brings his lips to your ear, “so am I not supposed to do things like this while we’re out in public?” He follows his question with a light squeeze to your ass, loving the quiet squeal you let out.

“What about this?” he asks, trailing his lips down your neck, his beard rubbing against your soft skin. You bite your lip and try to keep your gaze focused on what’s happening in front of you, but you can’t stop your low moan. “This is definitely considered PDA Buck,” you giggle, leaning into him. He sneaks his hand under the hem of your shirt and rubs small circles on your hip. “You still haven’t answered my question doll. How does Sam know about this?”

Kissing the corner of his mouth you take Rose from his arm and open the car door, securing her in the car seat. “Let’s go home and put her down for a nap and I can tell you all about it.” He reaches over you and shuts the door, checking on Rose one more time before pressing you against the car, “I like the sound of that. Maybe I can get a more in-depth lesson on PDA too.” You give his beard a sharp tug, shivering when he growls low, “I absolutely love this idea Buck.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-minty-breath @breezy1415 @buckstaybucky @buckosawrus @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @imgaril-lindru​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @lokilvrr​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 14

WC: 958

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, age difference, mentions of professor/student relationships, language

A/N: and I oop

🧠

"Wait-wait, Kreizler kissed you?" Bitsy is sitting next to you on your bed. She tried to refrain from interrupting while you explained what had happened that evening in his office. You must not have been totally clear in your words; hell, you weren't even making sense inside your own head right now.

"No, Bits. He didn't. And then he told me to leave."

She studies you for a second. "And did you… want him to kiss you?" she asks with hesitation.

"I-" you begin. You were supposed to dislike him, to be friendly for the sake of work at best. He was still the self-centered and arrogant man you first met underneath everything, even if your relationship had improved the last three or so weeks. But when you consider Bitsy’s question only one word comes to mind: yes. God, you did want him to kiss you there on the floor of his office.

You aren't sure when things changed. It was like seeing a photograph that you have no memory of being taken, but was undeniably you in the picture. It was a puzzle piece finally being put into place. A light illuminating a dark room. A freight train at full speed. Maybe Freud was right when he said our dreams can tell us the things we don’t even know that we want yet; can tell us what we need.

"I did want him to," you admit softly, both to Bitsy and to yourself.

Bitsy wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her chest. "You know - I'm really not surprised. I mean I won't lie, I still predicted hate-sex over this but… you’ve been acting different since Chicago. You’ve seemed a lot happier.” In a lighter tone she adds “and we both know he’s your type. Older, intellectual, has a steady job, dark hair and a nice beard, and he’s got your standard ‘dad-bod’.” You laugh into her neck. You know she’s right, he checks off all your boxes. If he hadn’t been so off putting the first time you met you would have definitely developed your crush on him sooner.

A crush?

No.

It was so much more than that. Never in your life had you felt this sort of unrestrained passion and connection to another person. He drove you fucking nuts in every sense of the word. Everytime he spoke you hung onto his words like they were oxygen. You wanted to both rip him to shreds and rip his clothes to shreds. But more than anything, you wanted him to do the same. To absolutely destroy you in every sense of the word. In all honesty you had thought he was thinking the same thing based on the way he had looked at you. The way he had been increasingly kind to you, considerate to you, open to you. The way his touches and gazes lingered.

But he didn’t.

Anger wells in your chest. You pull back from Bitsy. "And that's the fucking problem." You let out an exaggerated growl in frustration. "He could've done it, we were right there and the moment was perfect and I just. Ugh!"

You stand up and pace on the worn carpet. “He does these little things now. He asks me for my thoughts but like he actually wants to hear them, not because he’s trying to pick a fight. And he brings me tea in the mornings sometimes when he gets it himself. He’s invited me to hang with his friends and they’re so welcoming and funny. He- he told me about his childhood. And I told him about…” you trail off. She knows what you refer to regardless. “We have these moments where I look up and he’s already looking at me, but it’s so soft. He even paid for the trip with his own money because he wanted me to go.”

Bitsy just listens to your rant. You pause before slumping on the edge of the mattress. “Maybe… maybe I was wrong? Oh my god what if he thinks I’m some freak now trying to come on to their professor? Fuck - it’s no wonder he wanted me to leave! Shit.” You drop your head into your hands.

Your roommate rubs your back. “Look, I’m sure everything will blow over in the next couple days. He might’ve just been afraid to take that step, or maybe you did just misread the situation. He can either grow a pair or he can get over himself. And if he doesn’t have feelings then so what, fuck him, you can do better than a guy that made you miserable for months.”

A couple of deep breaths calms you down. She’s right. Everything was so sudden today that maybe it just caught him off guard. You know you were beyond unprepared for that to happen. And logically, if he doesn’t feel the same pull then you would be fine. You are his aide and technically a student at the university anyway, it’s likely an off-limits territory for him. Both of you are adults and can be professionals. You didn’t need to plague yourself with it.

“Thank you, Bits. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” With another hug she left you to your devices for the night.

The following morning you woke up as usual to get ready to head to his office. Checking your phone you saw that you had a text from the man in question:

Laszlo: I will not be in need of an assistant for the remaining duration of the term. Thank you for your help, it has been invaluable. Best wishes with your studies.

x Dr. Kreizler

You could almost feel your heart fall into your stomach. “Shit, I fucked up….”

Tag list

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[ruzek-halstead]

when did i first know? (i always knew)

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

prompt: "relax, getting stabbed doesn't even hurt that bad. it's kinda like getting punched really hard.” - "when did you get stabbed?"

masterlist

when hailey rushes through the emergency doors, her heart is pounding wildly in her chest. she wasn't given much information, just a quick call from adam saying jay was being taken to the hospital. then hailey heard adam barking something at the paramedics and he hung up without waiting for hailey to say anything. she honestly could've murdered him in that moment. 

hailey spots will exiting one of the medical bays and tries to slow her pace as she crosses the emergency room to meet him. will catches her eyes and sighs, a grin falling to his lips. "he's fine," he says immediately to ease her worries. hailey's shoulders fall. "you can see him, it's just this room right here. he'll probably be discharged later today." "thanks will," hailey says, shooting him a grateful smile. he rubs her shoulder before walking off. hailey slips behind the glass doors, spotting jay sitting up in his hospital bed. adam is standing on the opposite end of the room, holding a trashcan, as jay concentrates on throwing his empty jello cup into the trashcan. hailey blinks. "what the hell am i looking at?" "oh, hey hails!" adam greets, glancing back at jay as he makes the shot. he lets out a loud, rowdy cheer. "knew you could do it, bro." hailey is still confused as hell. jay looks, for all intents and purposes, absolutely fine. he has an iv attached to his hand, the rest of the necessary wires to attach to the machines, but hailey doesn't spot any injuries - no bandages, no blood, no nothing. "hey babe," jay greets, shooting her a toothy grin. adam checks his phone quickly, frowning. "i have to go back in," he says, stopping by jay's bed to touch knuckles with him. "i have a ton of paperwork to do now, because of you." jay sends him a lazy grin. "better you than me." "yeah, yeah," adam grumbles, turning to leave. "see you hails!" he says as he passes her by. hailey grabs his elbow and leans in quick to whisper in a deadly calm tone, "i swear to god if you ever hang up on me after saying something like that again, i'll shave your beard off in your sleep." adam lets out a low gasp, but his lips curl into a wolfish smirk. "god, why did i ever let you go?" he drawls in a sarcastic lilt. "shut up," hailey mutters and literally pushes him out the door, closing it behind him. now it's just her and jay, and she still has no idea how the hell he injured himself. "what the hell happened?" hailey asks in confusion, propping herself in a chair at his side. jay automatically reaches for her, pulling her to sit on the bed with him instead. "you look... fine?" jay chuckles, eyes mischievous, as if he's hiding something. "and i am fine. adam didn't have to call an ambulance and will should really let me out now." at a closer vantage point, hailey sees the faint blooming of a bruise along jay's jaw and her hand presses against it. jay winces. "yeah, you're totally fine." but really, hailey shouldn't be surprised he's itching to get out of the hospital. she, more than anyone knows how much he hates them, and god knows she hates when jay's in them even more. and also, she still doesn't understand why they would call an ambulance if it was a scuffle that left him with a bruised jaw. determinately, hailey searches his body for other injuries, because there is absolutely no way this is it. jay could be bleeding out and he'd still refuse a hospital. hailey immediately spots his wince as she presses near his ribs. "i might have a few bruised ribs," he offers weakly, attempting a charming smile. hailey rolls her eyes. "good god jay, why do you always go for the big ones?" "uh - have you seen my muscles?" hailey rolls her eyes again. "relax, the ribs didn't even hurt that bad - it was only a few punches," he explains, though hailey really doesn't want to hear about her boyfriend getting his ass handed to him (she'll mention it to him when he's all healed so it can annoy the hell out of him). "honestly, it felt about the same as getting stabbed." hailey pauses, the fingers that are running softly through his hair stop their trepidations. her blue eyes snap to his emerald ones, and she's positive her left eye is twitching. "when the hell did you get stabbed?" jay's mouth drops to an 'o', having the decency to look the least bit apologetic. "did i forget to mention that?" he replies, flipping the hospital blanket off his right thigh where a thick bandage has been fastened. "oh my god," hailey mumbles, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh. so, she does. "you're impossible." "adam used the word invincible, which i prefer," jay sasses, lips shifting into a smirk. hailey wants to smack it off his face; he really shouldn't be excited about all the injuries he's sustained. hailey feels the need to knock him down a peg; this could have ended horribly and he needs to be a little more aware of that. "i hope you two had your body cams on," she starts, earning a curious look from jay, "because i'm sure they'll show this at the academy in what not to do." jay immediately frowns. "you can't talk. you don't have nearly as many battle scars as i do." "yeah," she agrees softly, "thankfully." jay's eyes instantly soften as well, gaze trained on the anxious way she's biting her lip. "yeah, thankfully," he agrees, grabbing her hand in his and stroking it with his thumb. "let's keep it that way, yeah?" "are you going to do the same?" she asks in retaliation, eyebrow raised. a sheepish smile makes it way to his lips. "i'm trying, i swear. today was just weird. i'm telling you, this guy was massive and he was definitely high on something." "okay," hailey concedes. jay's hand crawls up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer. he's about to press his lips to hers when hailey snaps back, finger pointed up in anger. "also, if adam ever calls to tell me you're being taken to the hospital and then hangs up, i'm murdering both of you, okay?" jay chuckles, pulling her back nice and close. "yeah, got it. can i kiss you now?" "well, i guess. if it'll make you feel better."

x

p.s. title from black and white by niall horan bc i fucking love that song and the lyrics are the damn sweetest. okkkk hope you enjoyed!!!

tagging a few lovelies: @haileyyanneupton @detective-buttercup @lissethsrojas @justanotheronechicagofan

[shelby-love]

GEORGE WEASLEY

I'm Holy. Get it?

Requested: no

Prompts: none (all lines are from the movie save for the reader’s + some other)

Warning(s): I'd say if you haven't watched HP movie 7 don't read this but I mean...  

[Y/FN or Y/MN] is your father’s name or your mother’s name, whichever you prefer :)

Word count: 2.6K

Author's note: This is set directly in the first part of the ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pt. 1′ movie (Polyjuice scenes and arriving at the Burrow after the Sky battle). Reader reacts to George's injury kinda thing. I highly recommend rewatching those specific scenes so you get the feels:

Arrival at Privet Drive (watch first 50 seconds)

Full Polyjuice scenes

The Sky Battle (watch all if you want)

The Order at the Burrow after the Sky Battle

This is by far my favourite one-shot out of all of my work and it took me a while to write it so please like, reblog and let me know what you think! P.S. if you’re up for me to write a part 2, that one shot will be set before, during and after the wedding <3

MASTERLIST

Darkness set around Privet Drive seemed to be rippling, the air wafting all around. The Dursley's house, home of the famous chosen boy Harry came into view only as the brooms lowered to the ground. Not only brooms, in three cases skeletal, black winged horses too. Hagrid dominated the scene, sitting in an enormous motorbike you had begged him to give you a ride on, with goggles and a helmet set on his bearded face.

Despite not arriving in the motorbike, you had flown on the next best thing - a broom, with arms wrapped around your boyfriend, face nested against his shoulder and a million sweet nothings whispered into your ears on the way over.

You were pleased to say the least.

One by one, you lifted the Disillusionment Charms, coming into view for Harry Potter to see through the window of his room.

George Weasley dismounted the broom with ease, helping you off by letting you put your hand on his strong shoulders.

Harry pulled the front door open, eyes wide upon hearing Hermione screech and fling her arms around him. Ron: the next best thing how George and Fred always say, clapped his best friend's back and waltzed into the house after Hermione.

You stood outside, holding George's hand, body molded against his and watched the scenes unfold with the rest of the Order - Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Lupin, Arthur, Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley, Fred and George. You were accompanied by Mundungus Fletcher: a small, dirty man with droopy eyes and hair that was non-existent. Behind Mad-Eye stood a slender man in a dark suit, having just dismounted the third winged horse. He was handsome, so to speak, with black hair brushed behind and dark glasses shielding his eyes.

"Who wears sunglasses at midnight?" Fred had mumbled when he saw the man for the first time at the headquarters. You laughed immediately, agreeing by throwing a joke of your own.

George was protective; he made sure you weren't close to either of them as you followed the rest of the Order inside. As was Bill, his older brother, who had a hand on his fiancée's back, ushering her inside while placing himself as a human shield against Mundungus and the stranger. You were thankful for George, just like Fleur for Bill - you saw it in her eyes when you made it inside the small, family home that was once filled with furniture.

"Hello, Harry. Bill Weasley," said the oldest brother, hand extended for Harry to take.

"Ah, pleasure to meet you," this was the first time Harry had met the oldest Weasley and he shook his hand immediately and gave Fleur a hug right after.

"Wasn't always this handsome." Fred teased, pushing through the small crowd of people.

"Dead ugly," Your boyfriend added, holding your hand, and pushing you in front of him as the auror walked in right after you three did.

You released George's hand and came in to give Harry a hug, who you considered to be your close friend. "Are you going back to Hogwarts?" The boy asked you, knowing you were as old as him and his closest friends.

You shook your head, "My parents are in the Order as much as I am. I'll go when we defeat him. At least that's what I have planned."

"Of course, she'll go," Hermione interjected, not wanting to take the N.E.W.T. alone.

"No, she'll work with me," George butted in the conversation, grinning. "She'll be our salesman."

"Or saleswoman!" Fred voiced somewhere around the house.

Your lips spread into a grin instinctively as you placed a hand into George's already extended one and joined him somewhere else, letting Harry get to know a little bit more about Bill and his scar.

"-the joker," the last of Tonks' words made their way into your ears. The bubbly woman came to stand next to you. "By the way, wait until you hear the news! Remus and I are -"

"All right, all right!" Mad-Eye interrupted Tonks mid-sentence. You gave her a smile and a glance at her belly. She smiled in return. "You’ll all have time for a cozy catch-up later! We’ve got to get the hell out of here and soon!"

"What news?" George leaned in and whispered into your ear, Fred leaning in too.

"Doesn't matter," You told him. It was Tonks' announcement, not yours.

"Babe, pleasee," he whined, but you stood your ground and elbowed him in his abs.

George yelped behind you, drawing in attention. The adults turned around to look but he composed himself immediately, placing on a carefree smile and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, brushing them all off with the actions.

You missed half the conversation about the Trace the Ministry had on every underage witch and wizard. You thankfully didn't have the Trace for several months now but you did pity Harry in that aspect. The Trace was not an easy pill to swallow for an underage wizard like himself.

"The real one...?"

Moody drew a flask from one of his pockets.

"I believe you're familiar with this particular brew."

"No! Absolutely not!"

Hermione sighed, "I told you he'd take it well."

Harry, the always humble boy shook his head. You didn't see his face because you stood in the back, but you could imagine it very well. "If you think I'm going to let people risk their lives for me-"

"Never done that before, have we?" Ron mumbled, rather audibly so that everyone heard him.

"This is different. Taking that. Becoming me - no."

"Well, none of us really fancy it, mate." Fred said earnestly.

"Yeah imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as scrawny, specky gits forever." Your boyfriend added after him.

Harry didn't smile at that.

But you did - and that was enough for the Weasley twins.

You focused on the conversation that went on, cringing with George when Mundungus started to speak.

Suddenly, Hermione mercilessly grabbed a tuft of Harry's jet-black hair, yanking several pieces out and placing the strands into the flask.

"Blimey Hermione!"

Moody held out the flask in which the potion was connecting itself to the strands of hair. The mud like liquid gave an awfully displeasing imitation of brewing, but it turned to gold liquid soon and you let out a breath of relief.

But relief was soon replaced with dread as you realized what awaited you. Instinctively, you stepped back only to crash into George who had stepped behind you, knowing what you would do. Your boyfriend placed his hands on your shoulders and walked you to stand in line with the rest of soon-to-be-fake-Harry-Potters. "You aren't going anywhere luv."

George slapped your shoulders for effect.

"For those of you who haven't taken Polyjuice Potion before, fair warning. It tastes like goblin piss."

You visibly shuddered as you stood between the twins, Moody's fake eye catching you in a locked gaze.

"Have a lot of experience with that, do you, Mad-Eye?"

Moody's eye switches from you onto Fred. "Just trying to defuse the tension."

Fred gingerly took a sip, cringing in distaste immediately after.

He tried to hand the flask over to you, but you shook your head and dashed over to stand after George, not before him.

Why didn't he start from the other end of the line?

You were fine with standing next to Mungundus - the petty criminal, just not with taking a sip of that potion.

"My girlfriend's just scared," George smiled apologetically, still trying to defuse the tension just like his brother.

Both twins shrinked immediately after drinking it, and you swallowed the remains of your saliva and took the flask from your now very short boyfriend. "Cheers." You muttered, taking a small sip from the flask.

"That's not nearly enough! Blimey drink some more!" Mad-Eye barked at you and you did as he said, taking a much bigger sip this time round.

He finally nodded and stepped aside.

You felt your features bubble up uncomfortably, until the transformation ended, and 8 Harry Potters stood in the kitchen that had once belonged to Harry's evil muggle caretakers.

"Wow - we're identical!" Fred and George said at the same.

"Not yet you aren't," Moody mumbled, pulling out the sacks with eight identical sets of clothes.

You, Fleur and Hermione grabbed for the clothes immediately, your bras suddenly feeling everything but comfortable against your now flat chest.

"Don't have something a bit more sporty, do you?'" George asked, looking at the red shirt puzzled.

"Yes, don't fancy this color at all." Fred agreed.

"Fancy this: You're not you, so shut it and strip." Mad-eye exclaimed, turning to Harry. "You'll need to change too, Potter."

Harry looks around and self-consciously begins to strip. The other in takers of the potion had no concern when they stripped off their clothes. As for you, when you glanced underneath the shirt and indeed saw that your breasts were no longer there, you had no problem when taking off your shirt and bra. Any ounce of self-consciousness that was there disappeared once coming to terms that the body wasn't yours.

"Harry," you started, your voice the only thing left that was your own save for the clothes you were currently taking off. "Sorry for exposing you like this. But if it makes you feel any better...you have a nice body?"

You didn't really know to which Harry you were talking to, but one look at the Harry who didn't smile, the one that looked rather angry was enough to know he wasn't the real Harry. It was George. "I mean...that's kind of a compliment to you too... Right Fred?"

"It's a compliment," A different Harry but with Fred's voice said. "Take it or leave it George."

"Help me with this?" You decided to say instead, your cheeks flushing red as you turned around to give George space to unclip your bra.

"Never thought, I'd see the day Harry helps himself take off a bra," Ron mumbled with a laugh, having just finished commenting about his best friend's non existing tattoo.

"Shut it, Ron." Harry's voice came from somewhere amongst the crowd. Real Harry's voice.

George then helped you put on your red shirt in a haste, just now starting to smile. "I'm helping Harry Potter with his clothes the same way I would help my girlfriend."

"But it is me you dimwit!"

"Right then," Moody started to talk again, just after George helped you with your jacket. "We'll be pairing off. Each Potter will have a protector. As for you, Harry..."

"Yes?" Every Potter, real and fake, said in unison.

"The real Harry! Where the devil are you, anyway?"

"Here." The real Harry raised his hand and Moody's eyes rotated onto him.

"You'll ride with Hagrid." He said, "As for [Y/FN or Y/MN]'s kid... Where in the bloody hell are you even?"

Hearing those words, you raised a shaky hand. "I'm here sir."

"Good," Mad-Eye took note. "You'll be going with Ren on one of the thestrals."

"R-ren?"

The dark figure you and George so desperately tried to avoid stepped into the room right at that moment. "Yes, Ren. He's one of our best Aurors. Good and loyal - exactly the ones that are the hardest to find."

"O-kay," You said uneasily and turned around to face George. As weird as it sounded, fake Harrys holding comforting hands weren't a weird sight if you imagined hard enough to see George and Y/N.

That's what you did at that moment at least.

Held Harry's hand and tried to imagine George.

"Let's go."

***

"I'll see you at the Burrow, okay?" You told George, voice laced with worry.

"I would kiss you right now if you didn't look like Harry," He said.

You nodded in understanding, "Me too George. Me too."

The two of you went to your respective protectors - George with Remus and you with Ren.

You ignored the man when you came up to him and only gave him a look when he was supposed to help you up on the calm horse like creature.

"Hang on tight," was the last thing he said before the thestral flew the moment Moody finished counting.

You did hold him, only not as closely like on the broom with George.

***

"Confringo!" You yelled, holding out your wand in the direction of the Death Eaters. A bright blast flew out of your wand, hitting one of Voldemort's followers and sending him off his broom to be eaten away by the wind.

They were catching up to you, not bothered by the aggressive sways of the wind. Whether the thestral was acting out in fear or in rage - you wouldn't know.

"We're almost there!"

True to his words, the two of you broke through the protective spells of the headquarters, landing somewhere on the land, away from the Burrow.

You heaped off the thestral immediately. "Do you really plan on walking all the way back?"

You didn't know what to tell Ren as you continued to walk on unsteady legs. Your brain was mushed, fried even due to the number of curses you evaded and had been struck with.

"I-I..." You started, but words weren't coming out. "We're the last ones to arrive. I'm sure of it!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference..." You repeated, not believing what he was saying. "They maybe think we're dead! George might-"

George might think I'm dead.

It crushed your whole being. The lingering thought that they might not be okay...

"Come back," Ren interjected, slashing through your mind with his words. "We'll be faster on the thestral."

As much as you didn't want him to be right...he was. And so you turned back around and grabbed his hand, sitting back on the thestral - cold and scared for everyone's lives.

Especially George's.

***

"Oi! Let her go! Let her go!"

Remus Lupin ignored everyone as he pointed the tip of his wand to you, sending your still very Harry looking body hurling to the ground.

In the end it was Fred, George's older twin, who had marched out of the house and pushed Remus away. Fred looked like himself again, making it all ten times scarier. You had tears in your eyes as he pointed his wand at you and never felt so threatened in your life. "What was the place where you first met George and me?!"

His screaming had you struggling for words. "Answer me!"

"Filch's office you bloody dung brain!" You screamed back, feeling your face return back to normal.

Fred's face softened instantly as he came down to help you up. He hugged you the moment you were back standing. "Fred, what's going on?"

"It's George."

***

"Where is he?" You barged into the cramped house, looking around the whole place frantically. You followed Fred into the sitting room, where Molly had tended to her injured son when he was first brought in.

George lied on the couch, his bleeding had stopped thanks to his mother, but under the light you saw a clean hole where George's ear had been.

You dropped to your knees by his side immediately.

You could practically see the struggle he had with opening his eyes which he never had trouble with before, especially not when he was trying to look at you.

"How is he?"

Fred answered glancing at the bandages, "It could have been much worse. We can't make the ear grow back since it was removed by dark magic."

You shook your head, wiping your tears with the sides of your index fingers before brushing George's hair out of the way. "He wouldn't want you to."

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "He's a tough nut."

You voiced your agreement with your laugh, "Yeah, he is."

The two of you admired George in silence for a few moments. The room has been cleared, leaving only the three of you there. "I'm sorry for jumping on you like that."

It wasn't common for Fred to be so serious, and because you didn't even want to think about your arrival, you gave him a small smile, "It's okay Fred. I would have done the same."

"I know."

"What did he say?" You asked quietly, "Before he passed out."

"That he was holy."

"Holy?"

"Yep," Fred said, the teasing tone to his voice returning as he pointed to his ear for demonstration. "Holy. You get it?"

"Thank God! He's alright!"

MASTERLIST

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[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

[cursestothemoon]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love

i.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Read the summary here

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes

Word Count: 2569

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

(i found the picture on google, there is a name on it but other than that i am not sure who owns it. I do not.)

The leaves, newly fallen from the on coming of Autumn, crunched under the feet of hurrying students. Hogwarts had begun it’s new school year, witches and wizards were hurrying from boats and carts to get into the castle and catch up with friends. Just outside of the dining Hall was a sea of students, chattering with friends, everyone staying in clumps of like colors.

Gryffindors stayed with their own, as did Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs were the ones to intermingle the most, having friends in almost every house. Then there was the house of Salazar Slytherin, a proud bunch, robes of green tightly knit together leaving no room for outsiders or stragglers, not that the other houses (excluding Hufflepuff) thought highly enough of the green and silver house to make friends.

Y/n L/n, a proud member of Slytherin stood proud with her friends and housemates. Her chin was held high, a playful smirk painted delicately on her features as she listened to Blaise Zabini give a recount of his summer holiday. Blaise had always been a nice boy, his mother was a beautiful woman who was familiar with the front page of many high end wizarding fashion magazines. Then there was Lily Webberforth, another pureblood from a family of wealth, she was in Y/n’s year and a cherished friend.

“Father said he’d be purchasing a new peacock for the manor, though he couldn’t decide between albino or not.” Draco informed.

Draco Malfoy had wormed his way into the group during second year, a good kid...when he wanted to be, but absolutely snotty otherwise.

“Y/n, how about you wear my jersey for the first game of the season?” Adrian Pucey asked, arm slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making her internally cringe.

She was never a fan of being touched and Adrian seemed to be all for it when it came to her. They were in the same year and he’d been trying to convince Y/n to make it official since third year. She preferred to play with him rather than commit to him. It was easier that way, being able to differentiate her feelings from an early age, she knew she didn't particularly like him, but they had a few good nights and now she can’t shake him. He had become rougher over the years, harsh and controlling with an affinity for blackmail.

“No my clothes are just fine, Pucey, thanks.” She shrugged off his arm as Lily snickered at the exchange, finding joy in giving Adrian a look that told him ‘better luck next time’.

Adrian, not the biggest fan of rejection then turned to Lily in hopes of getting a jealous rise out of Y/n.

“What about you, Lils? You’ll wear my jersey won’t you?”

Lily shook her head, “I’m on the team with you, clear why you're not in Ravenclaw isn't it?”

Y/n laughed at the comment and moved to stand next to Lily, away from Adrian. Luckily, he got the message, for now, and left to find Marcus Flint.

“Have you seen the twins yet?” Lily asked, leaning closer to Y/n to make sure she wasn't overheard.

The girl gave her a questioning look before asking, “Why would I go looking for them?”

“Their hair’s come in nice, looking a bit shabby last year, remember?”

“Yeah, they’ve finally cut it?”

Lily shook her head, her eyes glowing with excitement, “Even better, it’s grown out a bit longer. Real nice looking, George looks rather well I’d say.”

“I always figured you had a thing for him.” Y/n laughed.

“Oh please, you and I both know that you love how much attention Fred gives you.”

Y/n tried to respond, really she did, but she was both out of words and interrupted by Lily again.

“Look, here they come.” Her voice was quite as she nudged her head in the direction behind Y/n.

Y/n turned slowly, in no rush to give Fred Weasley the satisfaction of having him know they were talking about him. When she did finally meet his eyes she couldn’t help but agree with Lily, his hair had grown out quite handsomely and he seemed to have reached an impossible height, well over the six feet he towered at in the previous year.

“Ladies.” They greeted simultaneously, Fred eyeing Y/n as they neared.

She gave a silent nod to them as Lily vocally greeted them with a reserved, “Hey.”

“News is that the first match of the season has our houses against each other. Shame isn’t it, Poppet? You can’t cheer for me.” Fred asked, arms crossing in front of his chest and lips stretching to a smirk.

Anyone could tell Fred was proud of his large frame, as a beater he worked hard for his toned arms, and thick biceps but his height was a complete natural gift bestowed upon him by the gods and he wouldn’t waste their generosity.

Y/n snorted, “Oh yeah, makes me feel empty inside when I can’t cheer for you, Weasley.”

“I know, no need to tell me. I fill you right up don’t I?”

The comment made her sneer at him, but she was unable to say anything back as her house was called into the Great Hall for the beginning of the year feast. Fred watched her leave as George poked fun at his inability to charm his way into her heart with innuendos and sarcasm.

It annoyed Fred, it was common knowledge that you had been with a few guys, some people even going as far as giving Y/n an undeserved title for it. Unfortunately, common knowledge happened to be a common rumor made by people who disliked her. Fred didn’t know this however and her constant rejection made him wonder, what did all those other guys have that he didn't?

Y/n and Fred had a back and forth relationship, neither being afraid to throw jabs at the other with the underlying tone of flirtiness yet both of them knowing the line not to cross. Fred thought she was ethereal, the way she seemed to glow as she walked through the halls had him weak in the knees. Her voice was buttery and soft, a velvety quality that seemed to grasp onto each of his heartstrings. Fred was head over heels for her and he hated it so he used sarcasm and a condescending tone to combat his feelings. Over time this developed into a false belief that he really didn’t like her, she was cunning, sly, and so easy to hate when he couldn’t love her.

--

Lily and Y/n sat in potions class, potion already brewed and completed as they gossiped in hushed tones and watchful eyes.

“So, anything new with Weasley?”

Y/n didn’t need a first name to know who her friend was referring to and she groaned.

“No, and there never will be.”

A loud groan emitted from Lily’s lips, “When are you gonna stop lying to yourself? I can see right through you.”

“There is no chance, no way that I’d ever fall for him.”

“You’d never fall for him or you’d never let yourself?”

The following silence was just as good of an answer as any, and Lily gave her a smug looking knowing she had won the argument.

Class ended shortly after that exchange, Y/n and Lily now having a free period chose to hang out in the room with the goblet of fire, watching as people put their names in. It was only last night that Fred and George had voiced their complaints quite loudly at the age restriction and Y/n was excited to rub it in Fred’s face that she was of age. Of course she wasn’t going to put her name in the goblet, she had better things to worry about than some tournament.

Lily and Y/n entered the hall at seemingly the wrong time, seeing as Fred and George had run through the doors leaving the girls in their dust. The whoops and hollers from bystanders made Y/n roll her eyes much to Lily’s amusement.

“How can you not be annoyed by their arrogance?” Y/n asked incredulously.

Her friend shrugged, “They are amusing.”

Y/n ignored the comment as they neared the twins.

“It’s not going to work.” She sing-songed loud enough for them to hear as she walked by.

Fred and George heard the comment and made a b-line for her and Lily. Fred plopped down behind Y/n, his face turning to meet her eyes, George doing the same to Lily.

“You don’t think that, do you Lily?” George asked Lily with a feigned look of childlike innocence.

“Come on, Poppet, have a little faith in me.” Fred said, a sarcastic look of pleading falling over his features.

For extra effect Fred jutted out his bottom lip making Y/n laugh at his ridiculousness, and oh how he loved to have her attention to himself.

“It’s incredibly dimwitted.” Y/n answered.

Lily nodded, “See that there?” She pointed to a white line around the goblet as she continued, “it’s an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself -”

“Meaning something as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion isn’t going to get past it.” Y/n finished.

Fred tsked as he shook his head, “That’s why it’s so brilliant.”

“Because it’s so pathetically dimwitted.”

The twins stood up abruptly and Y/n’s eyes followed Fred’s figure. The way his jaw flexed as he drank the potion and his hair flopped when he jumped down from the bench with George made Y/n lose grasp on her emotions for just a moment.

He was good looking, she couldn’t deny it. Fred Weasley seemed to be built by the gods, his hair burned as that of Ares’, and his face chiseled to the likeness of Apollo. But Y/n had been there and done that with pretty boys, all of them were the same and wouldn’t give in to another one. She refused to let herself fall for him, afraid of the repercussions of really loving him.

The fire let out an angry growl that brought Y/n’s mind back to that room and what was happening, with good timing too as she then watched George and Fred get thrown a few feet in the air and land away from the age line. They sprouted long grey beards and got into a tussle on the floor.

The sight made Y/n giggle before she quickly regained her composure and acted as unbothered as possible making Lily roll her eyes. It would’ve been a fairly enjoyable time, regardless of what Y/n would’ve told Fred, but Adrian Pucey walking into the hall made her shrink in her chair as she grimaced.

“Go, don’t think he’s seen you yet.” Lily whispered, eyes trained on the other Slytherin.

Y/n nodded and hugged the walls as she made her way to the door, hopefully, unseen. She celebrated too early, and her face fell as she heard the unmistakable tone just as she made it through the doors.

“Running away from me?” Adrian called, his smirk evident in his words.

She stopped, turning to look at him as she spoke, “Don’t be so surprised. You ought to have realized by now your company isn’t wanted.”

“Come on Y/n, give us a chance. You know you want to.” He said coming closer to her.

“Really, Adrian, I don’t.”

Adrian reached out to pull her under his arm and forced her to walk with him, the act making her tense up but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned closer to her ear, his breath hitting her skin making her incredibly uncomfortable.

“You’re mine, you know that don’t you? And no fucking ginger is going to get in my way.” He growled.

“You’re disgusting.” She spat, eyes burning with the anger of Hephaestus’ greatest fire.

Adrian laughed as he leaned closer to Y/n’s ear making her give an uncomfortable shiver, “Careful, darling, your feelings are showing.”

--

“Miss me, poppet?”

Fred Weasley’s voice was chipper and cheery as he greeted Y/n in their first class of the day. He had just woken up and it showed, his red hair looked as though it was hastily brushed through with his own fingers and his eyes still a bit puffy. He looked positively endearing as he took a seat at his table with George, just behind Lily and Y/n.

“Ridiculously.” Y/n mumbled, not looking up from her Herbology book.

“We’re only a few weeks in, what could you possibly be studying for?” Fred asked as he leaned over his desk to catch a glimpse at what you were looking at.

You glanced at him momentarily before looking back at your book, “Just giving myself an idea of what to expect.”

“Not a bad idea.” George said, considering doing it himself.

Fred gave him a funny look before turning his attention back to the girl in front of him, chin resting on his hand propped up by his elbow on the desk. She wasn’t paying attention to him, instead focusing on the book in front of her. She was slightly to the side allowing Fred the perfect view of her face without giving her the satisfaction of knowing he was staring at her.

Y/n’s hair fell in gentle waves down to kiss the top of her hips, she had fring that framed the length of her face and parted in the middle that was incredibly voluminous. Her eyes were focused with intense determination as she read, face relaxed as she was completely absorbed in what she was doing. Fred noticed early on that she rarely laughed, a genuine, eye crinkling, giggle but instead always had a look of unbothered casualness. He couldn’t understand this, not in the slightest, seeing as he was sure he had smile lines forming already.

He wanted to know more about the ethereal Slytherin, he craved it with everything in his being. Something about her drew him in, held him in place and refused to let him go.

Deep in thought, Fred failed to notice her eyes now looking at him with a curious glint and her hand coming out to poke him with her index finger.

“Alright, Weasley?” Her eyebrows were furrowed and Fred shrugged off the bubbly feeling he got in his gut.

He smirked, “Aw, do you care about my well being? Georgie hold me I may swoon.”

George laughed and shook his head at his brother, Lily joining in on the laughs as she watched Y/n’s face contort to one of distaste.

“Oi, Freddie’s got himself a girlfriend.” Lee Jordan, a close friend of Fred and George’s called from his table on the other side of the greenhouse.

Fred gave a short chuckle, his defenses coming up instantaneously as he tried to ignore the burning of his cheeks. And maybe if he hadn’t been so keen on putting down any and all rumors of him having feelings for Y/n he would’ve noticed the shy smile that graced Y/n’s lips as she turned her face away from the boys.

But alas, he didn't, and instead opened his mouth to shout over to Lee.

“My standards aren't that low, mate. I’d just as soon shag a goblin, Godric knows they’d be less bothersome.”

Taglist

@freddieweasleyswife​  @anywherebuthere​ 

[dakarimainink]

Rooftop Drinks

WARNING: Fluff, slight angst, smoochy smooch

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader (You)

Wordcount: 1,7K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

This is part 2 to the story Night Swim

Masterlist

It was the perfect summer day. The sun was setting behind the tall city buildings, setting the sky on fire and casting long shadows.

With a bottle of your favourite drink in hand, you admired the view from atop your apartment building. Your friend Michael had managed to unlock the door leading up to the roof, allowing you to have a small summer party with your closest friends. The soft hymns from the portable speaker set a relaxing mood. The scent of flowers and warmth made you smile.

“Hey, sorry we’re late.”

Your ears perked up at the familiar voice. You looked over your shoulder and saw Pedro walking through the rooftop door. Your heart fluttered and ached at the same time; it had been six years since you last saw him.

You admitted to yourself he looked just as good as last time, if not better, with a sharper jaw, slightly messy hair and trimmed beard. You had deliberately stayed away from movies you knew he had appeared in, mostly to stop yourself from longing for him, as the ache was too much.

Behind him came an unknown woman. You furrowed your brows at the sight of the young and beautiful woman with long silky-brown hair, pouty lips and shiny blue eyes. She almost clung to Pedro as they stepped onto the roof but threw herself around Sofia with a big bright smile.

“Sofia, it has been forever.” The young lady chimed.

You turned away to gaze back at the view over the city. You felt your heart ache. You didn’t even want to think about it, but you convinced yourself you were happy for him. After all, it had been six years since you last saw each other, even spoken with each other.

“Elle, let me introduce you to the group.” Sofia said. “Over there is Michael, Samantha, Anna and Jonathan, and over there is Y/N.”

You turned around at the sound of your name and quickly nodded at her, mostly out of courtesy. Your eyes were immediately caught by a pair of dark brown orbs staring right at you. You couldn’t hold back the smile stretching out your lips when he had caught your attention.

“Drinks are over there in the cooler.” Sofia added and guided both Elle and Pedro over.

You didn’t know if you should approach them or just stay put. You had missed him. A lot. A lingering pain within you for the past few years. You remember the first time your friends had asked you to join them to the cinema to see Pedro at the big screen, but you had declined, terrified it would be too much for you.

You decided to be the bigger person, you couldn’t continue to ache for a man that clearly wasn’t interested in being more than friends, except now he might not even be interested in that.

You shuffled your way over to your group of friends and sat down next to Anna. She clinked her bottle with yours and you took a sip.

“So tell us, Pedro, how’s New York been treating you?” Samantha asked eagerly.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a breathy chuckle. “Well, with a mix of hard work and luck I seem to have managed to make a somewhat name for myself.”

“I know! You were absolutely amazing in Game of Thrones.” Anna chimed in.

“Yeah dude, Oberyn Fuckin’ Martell.” Michael high fives Pedro with a proud smirk.

“Thanks guys. It’s been quite an adventure.” He admitted and smiled. “I have been missing you though.” His eyes wandered across all of them and stopped at you.

You felt your heart jump at his staring eyes and awkwardly gulped down your drink. A slight blush rose to your cheeks. Why did this man still have such an effect on you?

Sofia placed a deck of UNO cards and two board games on the table. “Let’s play some rounds.” She smiled.

After two hours of drinking, playing games and reminisce over past adventures, you had noticed Elle was clinging more and more onto Pedro. For each touch, giggle and smile, you felt a punch to your guts. You had considered to just leave the party, make up a lie you weren’t feeling well, but a part of you believed it would help you get over him, to see him happy with another woman.

You stood up from your chair and sauntered over to the cooler to grab another drink. Instead of walking back to the table, you walked over to the edge of the rooftop and sat down on the parapet.

“You’re not joining for next round, Y/N?” Anna called from the table.

You turned your head to look at them. “No, I’m out this round.” You reply and turn back your head again. Your eyes slid across the lit streetlights and the small black figures roaming the streets below.

“Hey.” The soft voice tickled your ears and you turned your head to look at Pedro. “This seat taken?” He gestured to the available space on the parapet next to you.

You smiled warmly. “No.”

He sat down next to you with a beer in hand. His eyes stayed on you before he turned to look at the city. “You’ve barely spoken all night, is everything okay?”

You keep your gaze at the tall buildings. “Everything is fine.” You fiddle with the bottle in your hands. “Elle seems like a really nice girl.” You mumbled.

He glanced over at the table before turning back to you. “Yeah, she is.” He replied. “How have you been? We literally haven’t spoken in six years.”

You looked up at him. “I’ve been good.” You lied, feeling that lingering ache in your heart. “And you?”

“I’ve been good, perhaps a bit miserable without you guys, but good. I am sorry I never texted you back, a lot happened and it all drowned away with the acting and then I got a new phone and number and lost all the contacts on my old phone.”

You looked back on the street below. “Don’t apologise, I understand.”

“But I need to apologise, Y/N. I’ve felt terrible the past years, especially the day we were going to meet up for coffee. I tried to call you but didn’t get through for some reason and I never had time to drop by the coffee shop due to me having to leave.”

“Pedro.” You breathed out and looked up at him again. “You don’t need to excuse what happened. I am glad you found success in New York; I am very happy for you.”

The silence lingered between the both of you. Neither sure on how to proceed. It was obvious to Pedro you felt some kind of resentment towards him. He took a sip from his beer and gazed out on the city again.

“Remember the night before I left?” He asked with a smile.

The corners of your lips quirked up at the memory. “Of course I do.”

“Remember I wanted to tell you something?”

“Yeah, I assume you wanted to tell me about New York.”

He turned his head towards you and his dark brown eyes scanned the side of your face. You turned to meet him.

“No.” He breathed out.

“No?”

He chuckled nervously. “I wanted to tell you; that I wanted to kiss you.”

Your jaw lowered at his words. Your heart sped up and you felt your consciousness almost blacked out.

“And I still do.” He admitted and swallowed thickly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea considering your girlfriend is right over there.”

He furrowed his brows. “Who? Elle?” He sounded surprised. “She’s not my girlfriend, we work together and she is an old friend of Sofia.”

“Oh.” You felt like an idiot. You wanted to bury yourself in a deep black hole, never to return. “I am sorry, I thought…”

Pedro laughed deeply, his laughter vibrating through his chest. “It’s okay, I know she’s very clingy, it’s her way of coping with anxiety. She leans towards people she trusts.” He explained.

You lowered your gaze, feeling like a true idiot.

“But as I said, Y/N…” He placed a warm finger under your chin and lifted it up to meet his eyes. “I still want to kiss you.” While holding your gaze, he slowly leaned forward and stopped a mere inch from your lips. His breath hot breath brushed against your lips.

You leaned forward and lightly claimed his lips. It was soft and gentle, the feeling of longing resonating between you both. His fingers brushed along your jawline to the back of your neck and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your heart fluttered and a warmth enveloped your body as he parted your lips and begun a slow and erotic dance with your tongue. You lifted your hands and carefully intertwined your fingers in his dark locks.

He placed his other hand on top of your thigh and pulled you closer until your knees bumped. He ended the kiss and sighed out while admiring eyes scanned your features.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered and tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear.

“I’ve missed you too.”

You smiled at each other. He grabbed your hands and stroked his thumbs across your knuckles. “Y/N, I want this to be something more and I want it to work.” He confessed and held your eyes. “I have wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too.” You admitted and your smile widened. “Let’s give it a try.”

His eyes lit up at your words before leaning forward and capturing your lips once more. One hand slid up to the back of your neck while the other were placed on your hip. He continued the dance between your tongues.

“About time.”

You pulled back and turned to find Jonathan looking at the both of you. Your cheeks burned red.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to finally get together.” He winked, took a sip from his beer bottle and wandered off to the others.

You looked at Pedro again and chuckled. Jonathan was right, it was about time you finally made it.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know.)

(taglist: @lazyunknownwerewolf @rrtxcmt @linnie0119)

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Common Thieves

Short WIP of rewritten scenes from a certain Disney movie and adding Zelda because I’m an adult so, no, you can’t stop me. 

I sat on this one for too long... time to let it out into the pasture.

Common Thieves

A trio of carriages rolled passed a sign reading: “East Necluda”. Underneath the letters were etched markings that indicated three miles before the region border.  The entourage of soldiers accompanying them lit up the night around them.

The trail hadn’t been maintained in several years, a testament to the rural inhabitants and the reputation the road had built in the recent months. Still, the party pushed onward steadily – even as the sun slowly abandoned them. Lines of guards walked along with the first carriage with a several mules hauling oversized trunks.

Days of traveling brought a silence over the men and ripped any urge to paint their boredom with banter. Other the occasional curt direction to the work animals, the only noises either came from their marching or the muffled conversation in the vehicles they surrounded.

“Does it look like I am a mere peasant?” a vibrant hiss came through the first caravan – it was decorated with Gerudo drapes of rich color, shimmering even in the darkness.

Inside, the weary looking fellow with his helmet resting on his hip flinched as the hisser sneered.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” he spoke fast, “I only mean to inform His Highness that we passed the last town two hours ago and in order for His Highness to rest it would entail putting up camp.”

“Putting up camp?!” the larger of the men reared back. His gold-laced fingers gripped the chair. “Absolutely not. I will not be treated like some poor panhandler on the side of the road. We will ride through the night.”

The guard paused for a short moment, shrinking at the gaze he received before bowing his head. “At your word, My Lord.”

Another man, skinnier than the lot, appeared beside the superior and stared with the wide eyes of admonishment. His words were spoken quick and high-pitched, “Do you have any idea who you are addressing?”

“I-” the guard looked between the two with uncertainty.

“Why, the Royal Advisor Ganondorf Dragmire. ‘Lordship’ doesn’t shine a match to the nature of his reputation!” he gasped and held his book of notes closely while making grandiose gestures. Loose papers fluttered to the caravan floor. “He has proved himself to be above such title! Illustrious is he, respectable is he, most honorable – absolutely, and not to forget how handsome is he--”

The royal advisor patted his acquaintance on the shoulder with more force than necessary and smiled chivalrously. “Never mind that, sergeant. We will ride through the night.”

The sergeant cleared his throat, “Yes, Your… Highness.”

As he exited the moving carriage, the flaps closed behind him and through them had commenced a series of muffled arguments that had become the norm during marches.

Another armor-clad man reared his horse beside the sergeant with another horse in tow.

“Well? What does he want to do?”

The sergeant scratched his red beard and let out the sigh that was building in his chest, then took his horse’s reigns with short words of thanks. 

His partner raised his brow, “That bad, huh?”

“Gods, I don’t want to hear it Kriss. Inform the lads that we we’re riding straight to Hateno.”

When he spoke, he tried to copy the intimidating scowl of the royal advisor but his compatriot still grumbled with annoyance as he twisted his horse in the opposite direction.

Their travels matched the demeanor of wartimes, and though they technically were, this party wasn’t avoiding frequent rests for the sake of catching the enemy and nor was their pacing any faster with the amount of luggage they hauled. It was well known through the garrison that this was the equivalence to a royal tour and it should be treated as such – yet no one spoke it above a whisper.

“Sir!”

It was a younger man, barely out of boyhood. He was scraggly, even his stance was uneven when he drew his heels together for a salute. The boy faltered in the process as his ill-fitting armor rattled from the movements. The sergeant withheld an eye-roll, lazing over his saddle to give the kid a forlorn look.

“What is it, Short-Stack?”

“There’s a traveler coming towards us,” he swallowed nervously, gesturing vaguely ahead. “What should we do?”

Momentarily, he looked up at the partially starry sky and sighed once more. “Well, does he look like he’s armed? Dangerous at any degree? Use common sense, son. The last time it was another fur trader.”

Short-Stack fiddled with his gloves and spoke with varying degrees of confidence. “Um, no sir. Sir, it appears to be a woman and-and we haven’t encountered one and I was wondering what the procedures were and--”

“A woman?” the sergeant blinked, promptly ignoring anything more the boy had to say.

His eyes flickered to the dulling sky and motioned his horse to approach the head of the party. As he did, the snickering of those walking ahead abruptly ended. About one-hundred yards away was a cloaked woman, so unmistakably feminine that the sergeant had to do a double take.

Her approach only emphasized what they say from far away. Though she was dressed modestly, it was obvious to any man that she was well-endowed. In her hands was a glowing, recently lit lantern that swayed playfully with her hips.

“Hello, boys!” she called out, giggling afterward and pulled her cloak closer to herself.

The men around the sergeant whispered excitedly and he gave a hard stare to them before straightening in his saddle and trotting in front of the group because, after all, he was the sergeant. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this woman-traveler couldn’t be in some state of concern.

She paused as he approached and blinked owlishly up at him.

“Madam,” he said, dipping his head slightly, “It’s getting rather late, can I ask what you’re doing out at such a time?”

The woman made a noise of surprise and looked over her shoulder as if the sun had snuck passed her. “Oh dear…” she pouted, “I knew I should have left earlier. Why, I was hoping to reach the next inn by sundown!”

“The next inn is two hours minimum on foot,” he recounted with astonishment. Then, pretended to think. “It just happens, my lady, that I am the leader of this particular garrison.”

She gaped, “Is that so? That’s most impressive, sir! Whose company are you escorting this fine evening?”

A smile crept up his face and he nodded smugly. “The Royal Advisor and a few members of His Majesty’s court.”

“Is that right?” she nodded, coming to terms with his words. “I suppose I must be on my way, then. I wouldn’t dare impose on His Lordship.”

A shout of outrage sounded behind the sergeant and he stiffened at the realization of his mistake.

The royal advisor had a distinct voice that shouted without needing to raise his voice. His assistant clambering out of the stopped carriage with much difficulty. Before the opening closed, Dragmire voiced his complaints without abandon.

“Sergeant! Ghirahim, I want his head or it will be yours, by the gods--” The rest of his sentence was muffled as the thin man left him.

The one named Ghirahim hurried to slick back his white hair and scrambled to the front of the carriage. He first gave the horses a wary look before turning his attention to what was impeding them. With a fit of outrage bubbling, he stopped himself mid-word to address the woman.

“And just who are you?” Ghirahim seethed. She went to explain only to be interrupted by his flailing hands. “Actually, you are irrelevant. No matter of concern to the given issue at foot. Sergeant-!”

Then, the woman gasped.

“Is that not the royal advisor to His Majesty?” she covered her mouth daintily, looking past Ghirahim.

The sergeant nearly jumped out of his saddle at the sudden presence of the man, who seemed set on a fit of rage and decidedly settling to a curious indifference at his impediment. The woman pushed by Ghirahim and gave a small curtsy.

The royal advisor didn’t look at the sergeant when he addressed him. “Who is this?”

“A woman, Your Highness.”

He scowled heavily in his direction, “I know that. I meant who she is!”

“Franny, My Lord!” she spoke with excitement, ignoring the assistant’s gawking expression. Franny dipped into a curtsy. “It is quite the honor to be in your esteemed presence Lord Ganondorf. You’re held in such high favor around these parts, as I’m sure you know.”

Ghirahim attempted to cut through while maintaining a concentrated glare. “How dare you grace His Highness with your impertinence!”

The advisor smiled, not taking his eyes off the woman. “Am I now? It is unsurprising, however I do enjoy hearing it from your lips.”

“Sir,” Franny giggled, “If I’m not being too impertinent. Between you and I, I am in the business of telling one’s future. You see, I know now that this must be of the goddess’s divine will to have us meet!”

The assistant blanched. “Absolutely not! Your Highness, I beseech you to ignore this wickedness.”

“You will beseech me to do none of the sort,” Ganondorf dropped his grin momentarily to wave away the smaller man. “Do forgive this man’s ignorance. I must admit, you have me captivated.”

Again, she laughed and took his awaiting arm. Before the advisor led her away, she pushed her lantern into the assistance chest without another thought of his boiling anger. Ghirahim huffed and moved to follow them with his tail between his legs.

“Sergeant,” he bidded coldly.

The trio disappeared into the caravan and immediately the officer frowned.

Something was off, surely.

“Sergeant?” a dainty voice called out. His attention was immediate. An unmistakable face stared back at him with a quizzical brow. “Why have we stopped?”

“A short reprieve, Lady Zelda,” he smiled, nodding her way. The lady was halfway down her caravan’s steps when she called to him. Her kindness was appreciated and the sergeant wasn’t about to anger her by blubbering that they were held up because of His Lordship.

She hesitated outside her caravan, opting to watch the stars instead of retiring once more. The sergeant took a moment to watch her idle; she was a beautiful, youthful, and owning every bit of the curiosity that came with those traits. Her father was right to keep an eye on her, he thought to himself.

Some minutes went by and the men began snickering when noises began coming from the royal advisor’s carriage. Disgusted, the sergeant ordered them away while suddenly realizing the promiscuity that may have been outlining that woman’s proposition.

But the noises grew louder that even he couldn’t keep his eyes off the vehicle’s abhorrent jostling and reprimanded the few that stayed behind it. After all, he wasn’t entirely foolish – who knows what the advisor would do if rumors were milled around.

A few more minutes and – wait wasn’t the assistant in there as well?

“Guards!” a shrill voice screamed.

From behind the caravan ran a rather large form. It spooked the sergeant’s horse and from there all hell broke loose. The officer could hardly gather his bearings. The men around him stared with wide eyes at the carriages and then back to the sergeant with dumb idle.

“Gods, damn it all – GUARDS!”

Blearily, the officer began shouting orders and like ants the men were clambering into the wagon. The driver hurried to calm the horses amongst the scurry, especially when several men in armor ran into the forest. The sergeant dismounted quickly to find the royal advisor and his assistant bound by their feet and hands, left only in their underclothes.

“Don’t look!” Ganondorf screamed as Ghirahim blubbered incoherently on his side. “Do not look at me!”

The sergeant stood aghast. The cabin was scraped clean – from the gold trim of the windows to the velvet pillows – all had been taken. Most egregiously, the trunks of Akkala long coats had been taken as well and were being mourned over in low sniffling.

“We’ve been,” Ghirahim sobbed through short breathes before continuing, “We’ve been robbed! Robbed! Your Highness!”

“Shut up and stop crying, you imbecile!”

The rest of the evening hours were the longest the sergeant had ever lived through. The woman, who had evidently turned out to be a man, was far gone by the time patrols began. It was also said he was accompanied by a Goron with the strength of eight men, but he hadn’t believed it until the wanted posters were found when they arrived in Hateno.

The illustrations were pinned throughout town on every surface the royal guard could find at the insistence of the royal advisor. Those blue eyes were unmistakable from that night, though the green cap had been absent, and the scowling Goron bandit beside him matched up with his men’s description perfectly.

That had been the royal advisor’s first encounter with the renowned outlaw Link Woods.

[the-lady-of-stars]

Feeling you

Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: I am writing some mega fluff as a warm up for the angst I’m gonna write later. This is my first time writing for Din so this is just me figuring out how to write his character. Please send in any requests for Din :)

Summary: You ask your boyfriend what he looks like under his helmet. Lots of soft Din plus a cheeky first kiss.

Night time had arrived, and you were laying with your head in Din’s lap as he sat on his cot. He was busy reading something off his holopad, mindlessly running his fingers through your hair. You gazed up at his helmet as he read, mind wandering to what he looked like underneath. You respected the way he followed the creed more than anything, and you’d never ask him to break it for you, but you still couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like underneath. Din had taken off all his beskar except his helmet, leaving him in nothing but a pair of sleep pants. Mind still turning, you reached up and brushed your fingers along the jagged scars that adorned his chest, trailing them over the puffy marks. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, mesh’la?” Din cooed, the soft tone of his voice amplified by the modulator. He put his datapad aside on the bed to focus on you, trying to figure out what was causing the gentle smile that sat on your lips.

“Just thinking,” you replied, smile widening.

“Oh? And what would you happen to be thinking about, hmm?”

“You.”

“Me? What about me, pretty girl?”

“Your face. What you look like.”

Din paused for a moment, a brief panic washing over him. Did you want him to give up his creed? He didn’t blame you. Who could ever fall in love with a man without even knowing what he looks like. Din tensed, self-doubt building up in his stomach. He knew you felt him grow tense due to the furrowing of your brows, your lips pulling tight.

“Din?” you sat up to straddle his lap, and stroked the side of his neck, the Mandalorian leaning into the touch.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you more, cyar’ika. You shouldn’t have to wonder what your own boyfriend looks like,” he spoke softly, a sad lilt to his words. Din looked down, not wanting to meet your eyes through the visor.

“Hey, no,” you shushed him, “Din, look at me, my starlight.”

Ever so gently you tilted Din’s head up to face you, eyes tender and warm. 

“Din, I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t care if I never see your face, that doesn’t matter in the slightest. Never has. It’s you I care about. You took me in, let me stay with you and the baby. You gave me a family Din, someone to come home to. You’ve always looked after me, kept me safe, given me your heart. That’s all I could ever ask for. You make me so happy, Din. So happy.”

Din felt his heart racing, beating so hard like it was trying to jump out of his chest and straight to you. You already owned it, he knew that. The tears pricking at his eyes just confirmed it.

“Thank you,” was all he could bring himself to say, the words barely audible through the shaky breath, voice wavering through trembling lips.

You smiled, an affectionate smile which stole the breath from Din’s lungs. Taking his hand, you delicately brought it up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, pulling you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. 

“I love you,” he whispered, as though if he spoke too loudly you would disappear into the night like a dream.

“I love you too,” you matched the quietness of his voice. 

Din held you close, mind racing when an idea popped into his head.

“Play a game with me, Cyare?”

“A game?” you questioned, untucking yourself from his neck to look at him.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “A guessing game. You tell me what you think I look like and I’ll tell you if you’re right or wrong.”

You laughed lightly, the sound making Din’s pulse speed up.

“Okay, sure. A game,” you reaffirmed. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart. What do you think I look like,” he purred, an element of amusement to his voice.

“Hmmm, well- the hair on your arms and chest is dark brown so I’m gonna assume it’s the same up top. Correct?” 

“Uh huh. Good job, beautiful. What else?” you could tell Din was smiling from the sound of his voice.

“I assume you’ve got an awful case of helmet hair. With that thing on all the time it’s gotta be pretty scruffy looking,” you smirked.

Din laughed heartily at that, chest shaking.

“Scruffy lookin’? Who are you calling scruffy lookin’? You’ve never even seen me and you’re insulting my hair?” Din reached up and rubbed his hand over the top of your head lovingly, messing up your hair. You cackled, wiggling away from his hand.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you laughed, “I’m sure you’ve got beautifully styled hair and absolutely no trace of helmet hair whatsoever. Wait- are you bald? You could be! Do you shave your head?” You got excited, a wide grin spread across your face. 

Din couldn’t contain his laughter this time, tipping his head back as his shoulders shook. 

“N-no, no I’m not bald, Cyare,” he finally choked out when he regained his breath, still snickering.

“Okay great, scruffy brown tufts of helmet hair it is then. Final guess.”

“Final guess? You sure? Going with helmet hair?” he beamed.

“Yup!” 

“Yeah okay you’re right. I’ll give you that one. But to be fair there aren’t all that many products to keep your hair smooth under a bucket.”

You bothed laughed again before Din prompted you to guess his eye colour.

“I always imagined them brown as well. Like a dark brown. Am I right?”

“On the dot, Cyare. You sure you haven’t been taking a peek while I’m asleep?” he joked, pinching your cheek playfully.

“Ooh! What about facial hair! Do you have a beard? I’ve been imagining stubble but maybe you’ve got a goatee or something, I don’t know. But if we are sticking with the scruffy rogue bounty hunter look I’m gonna go with some stubble. Very sexy, if you ask me.”

The more you spoke the harder Din laughed, his hands gripping your waist.

“Sexy, scruffy rogue bounty hunter. Should add that one to my resume. I’m gonna take that as a compliment and say yes to the stubble- as tempting as it is to grow out a goatee.”

“Hey I think goatees are great, I won’t stop you,” you snorted.

“Well?” Din prompted. “Happy with what you’ve learned?”

“Oh definitely. I love whatever it is you’ve got going on under there.”

Din chuckled, leaning in to pull you into a Keldabe kiss. 

“I wish I could kiss you properly,” he sighed. Suddenly Din froze, pulling away slightly.

“What is it?” you asked, noticing how hard he was thinking.

“I’ve got an idea,” he spoke. “Stay there.” 

Din rose and began to turn off all the artificial lights, making sure you were swamped by the pitch black darkness of night. He covered the viewport with the small curtain, blocking out the light of the stars.

“Din, what are you doing, I can’t see a thing!” you called out.

“That’s the point,” he replied, making you jump from how close he had gotten without you knowing. “You can’t see me at all, right?”

“No, not in the slightest.”

“Great, so if I were to do this-” the next thing you heard was the hiss of Din’s helmet being removed, and a thunk as he set it down on the floor by the bed. You gasped, realising what he was going to do.

“Din, what-”

He shushed you gently. “Nothing’s keeping us apart now,” the sound of Din’s unmodulated voice wracked your body with goosebumps. He could feel your skin prick up beneath his hands as he lay them on your upper arms. “I can finally give you everything you deserve, and I don’t need to break my creed to do it.”

“Din-” your voice wavered, hands beginning to tremble. It was finally happening. Din was here in front of you, his face exposed, more vulnerable than he had ever been yet feeling so right. He trusted you so much, letting down his guard for you only. His hands slid from your upper arms to meet your hands with his, carefully bringing them up to meet his face. There was no resistance this time, no cold metal barrier to block you from the warmth of his skin. Your breath hitched as your fingers met short stubble, the gentle scratch pleasant, familiar despite being new.

“I’m here, Cyar’ika. I’m all yours, every part of me.”

Slowly you moved your hands to trace his features, running over his jaw, across his cheekbones, up to his brow. He was perfect. Everything you had ever dreamed. Your lack of vision made you more sensitive to every touch, more goosebumps pricking your skin as his eyelashes fluttered against the side of your thumb. Your final destination was his lips, tracing your thumb across his lower one, the smooth, plump skin trembling beneath your touch.

“Din,” you spoke for the third time, his name the only word you could muster. The word left your lips more as a sigh than speech.

“Kiss me,” he breathed, the words sending a shiver through both of you.

You couldn’t stay apart from him any longer, tilting your head to unite yourselves as one. His lips pressed smoothly into yours as though they had been made to fit, tenderly meeting each other with all the love in the world. You heard Din’s breath hitch, his hands wrapping around you to pull you into his lap. You cupped his jaw, thumbs stroking it adoringly. Neither of you even thought of separating, moving your lips together in a wordless declaration of love. After a moment you were both robbed of breath, having to pull away to pant against each others mouths, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.

You didn’t move from that position until the next morning, spending the whole night straddling Din’s lap, making up for all the kisses that you hadn’t shared before. Your Mandalorian loved you, and he’d do anything to prove that until his dying day.