#everyone is surprised they got together so quick and beer has to explain to them not every relationship is a bl

[calciumcryptid]

Decided my proposal for a We Are Series ghostship is Beer and Kleun. They could make a very chill couple.

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Scars- Matt, Kelly, Jay

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions thoughts of self harm, self harm scars, use of guns

Summary: After a rough call, you spiral back into the past. Your boys won’t let you stay there for long.

Authors note: A user asked me for this one a bit ago. It was a tough one for me to write, but I hope it helps someone. {You know who you are and I hope this is what you were looking for❤️}

If you or a loved one has a mental health crisis, PLEASE reach out. Resources can be found online, depending on country, but your friends and family want to help you too.

YOU ARE LOVED AND YOU ARE WANTED. ❤️

>>>>>

You’ve known Jay for most of your life. You ran to each other for comfort when it all became too much with your families. Neither of you had great dads, which pushed you both to find solace in one another. You kept a secret from him all those years in hopes of avoiding the anger and pity that would come to his eyes. You wanted to protect him from yourself in some ways, and you still do.

It has been a rough day. You and Jay had taken fire on a call, nearly missing both of you. You had covered the daughter when she ran out from behind the car to run to somewhere she felt less exposed, but you weren’t quick enough to keep her completely out of harms way. She got shot in the shoulder and screamed as Jay held down the father until help arrived. Jay’s mind was on you as he put all of his weight into the girl’s father while returning fire to cover you both as you dragged the screaming teen behind a house not far from where she went down.

Once the team landed with some additional patrol officers, Jay let go of the father to grab the med kit you made sure to keep stocked in the back of his truck. He could hear the father screaming at you, even over the gun fire, before he made it over. He noticed how you shakily pulled the girl’s shirt apart to expose the wound on her shoulder, flinching ever time the father screamed louder in your ear, but he had no time to comfort you or lay into the father as the gunfire ceased and Kevin came to hold the dad back while you and Jay tended to the girl. Jay had all his focus on holding her down as he spoke into his radio, asking for an ambo while you did your best to slow the bleed.

The rest of the day was a blur. You rode back to the precinct in silence, pretending to be asleep when Jay looked over at you to start the conversation. You dodged everyone and left as soon as Voight gave the order to go home for the night. You had driven separately that morning, and Jay had to stop at the store to get supplies for dinner, so Jay let it be for now. He knew you’d probably respond better in your own home with all three of them with you anyways.

When Jay walked through the door, arms filled with groceries, he was surprised that the house was mostly quiet. He could hear the tv on in the living room, playing a baseball game, which meant that Kelly and Matt were most likely on the couch. You, however, don’t really enjoy baseball and they never really watch it around you, immediately after work, so that you all can relax together. Curious as to where you could be, given that you left before him and should have gotten home 30 minutes ago, Jay hurriedly dropped the bags in the kitchen before making his way into the living room.

“Hey guys.” Jay smiled, gong to kiss Matt and Kelly gently. He was right. You weren’t in here. “Where’s Y/n?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant even though he felt like something was wrong.

Matt pointed over his shoulder toward the master bedroom. “She said she wanted a shower, but needed to be alone. We figured we could catch a bit of the game while we waited on you.” Matt explained, sipping the beer that was in his hand.

Jay nodded as Kelly spoke. “She didn’t seem ready to talk.”

Jay shrugged. “Yeah. She’s been like this since a call we had midday. I figured she would feel more comfortable with all of us.” Jay explained, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t like this. He had this nagging feeling that something was wrong, just like when you were kids and you met him at your secret spot on bad nights. The lightbulb clicked as Jay heard the master bathroom door open. “Oh. She’s got PTSD.” Jay mumbled, mostly to himself, but he knew the other two heard when they straightened up and put their beers down.

“She what?” They both said, immediately leaning forward to stand.

Jay placed his hand out, signaling them to stay where they were. “Hang on. Just…” Jay took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought through what he was taught in therapy about PTSD. “Let me go talk to her a second and check on her.” He said, quietly, immediately turning to head into the master bathroom. Jay heard the other boys sigh, but they thankfully stayed put as Jay made his way into the bedroom. He quietly knocked on the door to let you know he was there before slowly going to sit on the bed. You still had the towel wrapped tightly around you as you leaned your forehead against the closet door. “Hey baby.” Jay whispered, not moving from his spot on the bed.

You barely lifted your head as sobs shook your shoulders. You heard him and you knew he was there, but you were scared. Scared of yourself, scared of your feelings, scared that they would see you differently. “P-please Jay. I- just d-don’t.” You whispered, swiping at your cheeks to get rid of the tears.

Jay sighed. “Baby girl. Talk to me.” Jay began to beg. “Tell me how to help you.” Jay said. He allowed his eyes to roam your body as you kept pulling the towel lower over your thighs. He spotted angry, red skin and immediately stood. “Baby. What happened to your thigh?” Jay asked, watching as you tensed.

“N-nothing. M fine.” You mumbled, turning and walking into the closet. You have been living with the boys for 5 months now. You have yet to share your scars. When you changed clothes, it wasn’t noticeable. Normally, you had to look close at your skin because of their placement. You’ve always insisted that it was dark when you made love, so they still have yet to see anything.

Jay shook his head as it all clicked into place. “Baby.” He whispered, slowly approaching you.

You knew he figured it out. Jay wasn’t dumb. “I I didn’t! I just..” your breathing picked up as you stepped back from Jay as he came closer.

Jay made sure to soften his face, making every emotion go to the back of his mind to leave only care and love. “I’m not mad. I promise. Just let me see, hmm?” Jay said, standing a few feet away from you.

You nodded, face to the ceiling as Jay knelt down to peak under the towel. With how red your skin was from where you obviously scratched at your scars, they popped through. He never would have noticed given the placement. He could tell you had thought this through. Carefully, Jay leaned forward to kiss your thigh before standing up.

“Get dressed and meet us in the living room. Okay?” Jay said, leaning in to hand you one of Kelly’s shirts before walking out of the room. Making his way into the living room, he was met with the anxious faces of his other two lovers.

“Is she okay?” Matt asked, drawing Kelly’s attention to Jay.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Debatable. She’s getting dressed.” Jay answered. “There is something we need to talk about.” Jay said, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. “I need you both to let me lead this conversation. I don’t want her to shut down.” Jay explained. They barely had time to nod before you shyly rounded the door.

You spot them all in the living room and fought the urge to run, but Jay’s soft eyes beaconed you forward. You took the seat at the far end of the couch and curled into yourself, hiding the irritation on your thigh from the other two. “Can you?” You whispered, the question directed at Jay.

He nodded, turning to your other two lovers. “Like I mentioned earlier, I believe Y/n has PTSD. We can talk reasons why and all that when she’s ready. However, today triggered something and I just found out about her having some self harm scars.” Jay said, hands clasped between his legs.

Both Matt and Kelly’s heads snapped up to look at Jay before turning their attention toward you as you muffled a sob behind your legs.

“She didn’t.” Jay added, one hand on each boy. “However, I believe she wanted to. She scratched the scars pretty bad.” Jay muttered, looking down to avoid putting more eyes on you.

Kelly breathed deeply as Matt moved toward you. “Baby girl. Come here.” Matt whispered, pulling you into his lap. You let out a wail as your face turned into his neck. “Shhhh. It’s okay. We aren’t mad. It’s okay.” Matt shushed, kissing the top of your head as Jay took the space you were just sitting in and Kelly moved closer.

Kelly carefully examined your thigh, not daring to touch the irritated skin without your permission. The skin was red and blotchy. Dark red dots danced under the skin from how irritated it was. Kelly didn’t know how to respond, so he gently laid a hand on your back and looked to Jay.

Kelly and Jay were silent for a few moments as Matt shushed you. They didn’t want to overwhelm you, but they knew they’d have to calm you down soon. You were on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Sweetheart. We aren’t mad. We promise.” Matt said, kissing the top of your head. “Shhh. Breathe. Breathe baby.” Matt whispered, pulling back slightly to look at your face. He didn’t like what he saw. It broke his heart in two. So, he turned to Kelly and allowed the other man to see your red cheeks and slightly blue lips.

Kelly nodded and took over, carefully helping Matt turn you to face him. “Hey you. Look at me.” Kelly whispered, hands lightly cupping your cheeks. “Look at my eyes. Breathe.” Kelly said, taking a deep breath for you to follow.

You shook your head. “I-I can’t.” You gasped, hands coming up to clutch Kelly’s wrist as Jay stood and sat on the coffee table once again.

“Yes you can. Here. Hold my hand.” Jay said, leaning over and holding his hand out to you. He used to do this for you as kids. When you took it, he gently smiled and lightly squeezed. “There we go. That’s my girl.” Jay whispered. “Now, Matt is going to help you lean forward, okay? He’s going to support your back while Kelly holds the back of your neck down a bit. We just need your head between your knees. Can we do that?” Jay asked, walking through what he needed from everyone so that you wouldn’t be caught off guard.

You nodded your head and the boys went to work. Jay placed his free hand on your chest so that you wouldn’t feel like you were falling off of Matt’s lap. The only good part about you during panic attacks is that you prefer to be touched. You need the contact to help bring you back down to earth. You stayed like that a while. Matt’s hand rubbing up and down your spine, Kelly’s hand gently holding the back of your neck while he lightly drew circles with his thumb, and Jay holding your hand and pressing his other to your chest. Once you slowed down enough, Jay nodded at the other two and helped Matt pull you back up and into Matt’s chest. You were exhausted. Basically dead weight in his arms.

“I thought about it.” You whispered after a few minutes, startling everyone out of their own thoughts.

Jay nodded, expecting this. “Is that why you were so upset?” Jay asked, wanting to know what to watch out for if this ever came up again.

You nodded, lightly rubbing over your still irritated scars. Kelly stopped you with a gentle hand. He removed your hand before leaning down to kiss your scars.

“Listen. I can’t pretend to know what you went through.” Kelly started, glancing at Jay to make sure he wasn’t going to make this worse, but he saw no sign that he was going in the wrong direction. “But we have you now. Those scars are battle wounds. Maybe not like the ones that everyone thinks about, but the ones that show how hard you fought through life to get to us.” Kelly said, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“As long as you have us, you won’t get any more scars like that.” Matt said, leaning forward to kiss the side of your head. “We love you with them. That’s a given. Just know that you don’t have to do that anymore.” Matt added. Rubbing your back.

“You just have to tell us.” Jay said. “I know it’s hard. It can feel scary, but we love you. We don’t want you to think you can’t tell us anything. We won’t judge you.” Jay said, looking for your eyes. Once you locked into him, he smiled. “We love you, scars and all. We want to hear everything. Know everything. Cry with you. Laugh with you. We want it all, but you have to open up and tell us, yeah?” Jay asked, nudging you gently.

“Yeah.” You whispered, playing with Jay’s fingers as you kept a grip on his hand. “The dad. He was yelling and it reminded me of y/d/n.” You said, lip quivering. “It was like I was there all over again and I couldn’t get the memories to go away. It started eating me alive all over again.” You said, looking down and shaking your head as tears streamed down your face.

They all sighed, feeling your pain.

“We know about bad dads baby girl.” Kelly said, pulling your face up to look in your eyes. “We can’t pretend we know what happened with yours, but we can say that we will never let that happen again. You are safe with us.” Kelly reminded, smiling gently.

“We love you and respect the hell out of you.” Matt said, eyes watering. “Just let us in. Let us protect you. Even if it’s from yourself sometimes.” Matt said, smiling and leaning in to kiss the side of your head when you nodded.

“Okay sweet girl.” Jay whispered, standing up. “I need to go make dinner because you need to eat.” Jay said, leaning down to capture your lips with his. “Why don’t you relax here with our boys and rest for a bit, yeah?” Jay said, standing back up to his full height and looking for approval from you. When you nodded, Jay smiled and turned to go back to the kitchen. He knew you would be okay. You had all three of your boys.

>>>>>

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

@mrspeacem1nusone

@wh0reforsmutstuff

@geekgirl1996

@emilyprentisswife

[siancore]

Traditions

A/N: Written for @thatmexisaurusrex as part of the @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Gift Event. My last of the year. Thanks to everyone for supporting me this year. Enjoy!

Summary: Sam has plans to spend New Year's Eve alone on his family's boat. Bucky shows up out of nowhere, like he usually does, and the pair spend it together even though they aren't together anymore.

Read on AO3

“Don’t worry about me,” said Sam as he placed the last of his supplies in his waterproof bag. “Just enjoy yourself tonight. Make sure to take plenty of pictures of the boys. And if you need anything you let me know and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“Thank you,” Sarah replied, the sound of AJ and Cass’ excited chatted wafter in the background of the call. “But this is your first weekend off in how long? You enjoy yourself, too. Make sure to check-in with us first thing in the morning.”

“You’re not planning on staying up late?”

“Nope. The boys can watch the ball drop, but we’ll be back in the hotel room not long after that.”

“I could’ve watched them, and you could’ve had a night out,” said Sam in earnest. “Still can.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sarah replied. “It’s their first New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. I want them to have fun. I want us to have fun together. Start a new tradition with them.”

“I hear you,” said Sam as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “Be safe out there. And if anything happens, call me.”

“To the rescue, uh?

Sam smiled and said, “Always.”

…..

The sun was still hanging low in the Louisiana sky as Sam loaded his truck. A soft breeze swirled around him, cold for that time of year in that part of the country. He pulled his jacket closed and placed the last of his supplies in the back seat. Just then, a car came up the driveway. Sam turned just in time to see Bucky exiting the vehicle.

“Bucky? What’re you doin’ here?” asked Sam, surprised to see him. “I thought you were on some secret mission?”

“I was due for R&R,” Bucky explained as he walked over to where Sam was standing. “Thought I’d see what you were doing.”

“You gotta learn how to use a phone, Buck,” said Sam with a laugh as the pair shared a quick embrace. “I’m takin’ the boat out.”

“I know. Sarah told me.”

“So, you know how to call Sarah but not me?”

“I was making sure she had everything she needed for New Year’s Eve in New Orleans,” said Bucky as he leaned against Sam’s truck. “She said you were stayin’ home. Thought you might want company.”

“And you sent yourself?” said Sam half teasing.

“The least I could do for you, Cap,” Bucky replied before nudging Sam with his shoulder. “So, you ready to ship out?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Let’s head out.”

…..

Sam Wilson had been to so many different places all over the world, but nothing compared to being on his family’s boat out on the water just as the sun was setting. The vast and varied colors reflecting from the sky to the water soothed Sam as much as the steady rocking of the boat.  He was drawn from his reverie by Bucky handing over a plate of different cold cuts and cheeses.

“Sorry I didn’t bring a lot of food,” said Sam with a gentle smile. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You got beers,” said Bucky as he clinked his bottle against Sam’s. “That’s good enough for me.”

Bucky settled in next to Sam on a deck chair at the stern of the boat. He sipped from his drink and glanced out over the shimmering waters. He then turned his head to look at Sam.

“This is nice,” said Bucky. “Thanks for letting me join you.”

Sam huffed out a laugh and said, “Like I had a choice. When you say, ‘I’m comin’ with you’, I’ve learned not to argue. You don’t listen anyways.”

Bucky let out a laugh and said, “That is true.”

Silence settled around them comfortably as Sam picked at his food and Bucky sipped from his beer.

“This the first time you’ve been out here since you got back?” Bucky suddenly asked.

Sam noticed that he did not ask a lot of questions generally, but rather sat back and observed. It was nice to have him taking an interest.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “First time in a long time.”

He turned his head to see Bucky watching him, so he continued to speak.

“It was kinda a tradition for us,” said Sam with a nostalgic tone to his voice. “Back in the day, when the seafood business was booming, the docks used to see a lot of action from tourists and locals. There was always music and food. A nice atmosphere around this time of the year. It ain’t New Orleans, but folks here knew how to have a good time.”

Bucky nodded and listened.

“My parents would close up the restaurant early and bring us kids out on the boat. We’d do the New Year countdown and watch the fireworks that Tommy let off from back up on the shore. We’d sail around a little longer after that, and eventually Sarah and Gideon’d be too tired and fall asleep, but I liked staying up pretending I was asleep. I liked listening to Mama and Daddy talk when they thought no one was listening. They’d talk about the year that’d passed and what they were thankful for. What they were looking forward to in the coming year. What they were scared of; how they’d get through it together. It was one of the best memories I have of them.”

“It sounds lovely, Sam,” said Bucky with a fond expression on his face.

“It was,” Sam agreed. “I just wanted what they had, y’know? Someone to face the familiar and the uncertain with.”

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes before he let out a little laugh and said, “Sorry, this time of year makes me sentimental.”

Before Bucky could reach out and place a comforting hand to Sam’s, he spoke again.

“What about you? What was your New Year’s Eve traditions before everything that happened – happened?”

“Fighting.”

“What?” asked Sam, unsure of if he had heard Bucky correctly.

“I don’t know if it was ever in those museum exhibits about the Howling Commandos, but I used to be a boxer.”

“Right, yeah. I remember Steve mentioned it once or twice,” said Sam with a smile. “Also heard you liked to dance. So, which did you like best? Dancing or boxing?”

“Well, Buttercup, dancin’ didn’t pay no bills,” said Bucky with a hint of his 1940s vernacular and swagger creeping in.

“It does if you’re good enough,” Sam teased, causing Bucky to roll his eyes playfully.

“I was plenty good,” Bucky defended. “I was just better with my fists, and everyone knew it. Guess that’s still a thing.”

There was a moment of melancholy that hung over them at the gravity of Bucky’s words.

“So, you fought on New Year’s Eve?”

“I was a champion fighter but did exhibition bouts on New Year’s Eve from the age of sixteen,” Bucky explained as he sipped from his drink. “That was my tradition. My old man would drive me to the YMCA because some snot-nosed punk would always want to challenge the champ.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“So, that’s how most of my New Year’s Eve’s went – fight a few rounds and then go out dancing with a shiner,” he smiled that crooked smile that made Sam feel weak.

“James Bucky Barnes out on the town with a black eye? I can only imagine the attention you got,” said Sam as he drank from his beer.

“The girls swooned over it,” said Bucky looking as if he was just now pulling the memories from deep inside. “And it lit some kinda fire in the belly of the fellas. I did alright.”

Sam’s lips quirked as he said, “Oh, I’m sure you did.”

…..

There weren’t near enough cushions, Sam realized, as he tried to get comfortable on the picnic blanket next to Bucky. The sun had set some time ago, and the pair were supine on the deck of the Paul & Darlene. Sam’s belly was full, and his heart was getting there. He was not expecting that his evening would go that way, but he was having an enjoyable time. He was glad to have Bucky back beside him. He was happy.

“These lights are a nice touch,” said Bucky gesturing to the string lights that hung overhead.

“Cass and AJ’s idea,” Sam explained with a fond smile. “They learned the word ambiance from Carlos and sorta ran with it.”

“They’re smart kids.”

“They are,” said Sam. “We could learn a lot from them.”

Bucky shifted next to Sam and was resting on his elbow. Sam turned his head and stared up at him.

“What?” asked Sam, taking in the intense look in Bucky’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t smarter, Sam.”

“Don’t do that,” said Sam. “We agreed that you’d stop doin’ that.”

“I should’ve never left,” Bucky admitted. “Should’ve been smarter. Should’ve stayed with you.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Sam replied, waving his hand. “You don’t owe me apologies. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you everything,” said Bucky with so much sincerity it made Sam’s chest feel tight. “What if I stayed?”

“Would that make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“You know you can always fight, and then come back here to dance, right?” said Sam somewhat playfully. “Sure there’s a line around the block of folks who’d wanna dance with you – black eyes and all.”

“I only wanna dance with you, Sam,” said Bucky in earnest as he reached over to cup Sam’s face. “I only want you.”

Sam sat up and stared at Bucky, who mirrored his action. He shivered when a breeze came up off the water. Bucky grabbed a blanket from the nearby deck chair and draped it over Sam’s shoulders.

“This is my life now,” said Sam as he took hold of one of Bucky’s hands. “Sure, I’ll be Captain America until Torres and the others can figure things out, but this is my home. I’ve been away for too long. This is where I want to be. I want you to do whatever makes you happy, Bucky. If that’s working with Walker and the others, then cool. I just don’t think I can be with you in the way we both want without having you here with me. My heart can’t take the worry of not knowing where in the world you are. I can’t be with you and not have you with me.”

“I’m not going back to the Thunderbolts.”

“What? I thought you signed a contract?”

“To hell with their contract, Sam. I miss you and I want to be here with you.”

Sam let his head fall before Bucky tilted his chin up with his fingers and repeated, “I want to be here with you.”

Sam dipped his lips and placed a lingering kiss to Bucky’s knuckles. He lifted his gaze and stared into Bucky’s eyes.

“What about your future?”

“You’re my future, Sam,” Bucky stated plainly as he brought his hand up to caress Sam’s cheek.

“New Year’s Eve does this,” Sam tried to protest weakly. “Makes us do and say things. Makes us feel hopeful about the future.”

“You make me hopeful. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I know what I want.”

“Wow,” said Sam, as the overhead lights sparkled in his wet eyes. “You really mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it. Of course, I do. Sam, listen to me: We can’t ever know what the future’s got in store for us,” said Bucky as he ran his hand gently against Sam’s face. “All I know is that I wanna spend it with you. I wanna start new traditions with you.”

A distant crack and rumble of some far-off fireworks exploded and lit the darkened sky with all manner of colors. It sparked a warm memory in Sam that almost matched the warmth he felt in that moment. Maybe he could have something akin to what his parents had. Maybe new traditions were coming.

“Me, too,” said Sam as he took a deep, steadying breath and smiled sweetly at Bucky. “Me, too.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Risk it - Harry Styles

a/n: this came so fast and typed most of it out at work lmao, but i kinda dig how it turned out!! hope you’ll like it too! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

You shake yourself a little bit to get rid of the spicy coldness that’s been lingering around in the city in the past few days. It’s only the end of August, but feels more like late October, though they say the warmness will return for a few more weeks shortly. That would be much needed, you’d love to enjoy some more lunches out in a park or down near the river before you are forced to withdraw into the insides for the rest of the year.

Looking around in the packed pub you look for the familiar golden locks of Piper and you quickly spot her in one of the corner booths, laughing joyfully with pinked cheeks probably from the almost empty pint of beer in front of her. Marching through the place you slide into the booth joining the group of three.

“And there she is!” Piper cheers.

“We thought you’re gonna bail on us,” Abigail snickers and you just roll your eyes.

“I said I would come, just had some work to finish before,” you tell them, shaking your cardigan down your arms quickly, the air is thicker, mustier and much warmer in here, but it’s not surprising, the pub is packed, just as usual on a Friday evening.

“You work way too much,” Piper shakes her head in disapproval as she downs the rest of her drink.

“I’ll be working way less from September.”

“Yeah, but you’ll spend the rest of the week in school, so it’s gonna be the same!” Mona chimes in with furrowed eyebrows.

“They promised me a fat raise if I get this degree within the next three years, I could definitely use the extra cash so I can finally buy my own place soon,” you explain.

You know they understand the situation and they wish you the best. They want to see you succeed in life and in your career, they just love teasing you about how dedicated you are towards your work, having to say immediately yes when your boss told you you’d get a new position and a raise if you finish the masters you never got to two years ago. You already had a handful of credits done that you’ll be able to get accepted, meaning you only have about one year worth of credits to finish in two years while working. It might get a little overwhelming to have an almost fulltime job and go to school but you’re determined to do this.

“We know, we know,” Abigail chuckles. “Alright, no more work or school talk tonight. We are here to let loose, so let’s get another round!”

Soon enough you are nursing a beer of your own, enjoying your time with your friends. It’s been long all four of you were free on the same night. Piper got married last year, Abigail’s work forces her to travel around a lot and Mona has a bitch of a boss, making her work overtime a lot, so it’s been hard to fix up a date that fits everyone. It’s been like this since you all finished your bachelors three years ago. You like to think you’re still a fresh little young adult who just barely stepped out into the big world, but it’s not true, hasn’t been for a while. You’re 24, you have a career, you live on your own, you take care of yourself fully. You are an adult, whether you like it or not.

Drink after drink, the four of you are getting tipsy, having an amazing time talking about the stories you shared back in university. Piper was your roommate first year uni, Mona and Abigail were in the room next to yours and you quickly became close friends, moved in for the rest of your studies until you all went your own ways after graduation, but keeping in touch as much as possible.

“I’m gonna get another one, but that’s gonna be my last one, because I have some work to finish in the morning,” you announce climbing out of the booth.

“No work talk!” Mona and Abigail shout at the same time making you laugh as you just wave them off and head to the bar.

You’ve been waiting for the line to get shorter, now only a few people are lingering around so you patiently wait for your turn, clutching onto your card in your hand. You don’t pay much attention to the tall guy next to you, only when someone bumps into you from behind and makes you fall against his side.

“Oh shoot, sorry! Someone pushed me,” you apologize immediately as the guy looks at you over his broad shoulder and your gaze meets a pair of green eyes framed with long lashes and a curious look in them.

“No worries, Love,” he smiles and you almost gasp at the British accent that laces through his voice. You take a quick moment to inspect the man, he is standing almost a full head above you, wearing a simple black shirt and brown slacks, a set of bulky rings sitting on his fingers that are spread out on the counter in front of him, his whole left arm covered in ink and you feel the urge to examine every figure on his golden skin. His chocolate curls are kind of a mess, but still look well placed, you bet he is the type who only runs his fingers through his hair and makes it look breathtaking. He is handsome and definitely your type, looks older than you, but you wouldn’t think he is over thirty.

“What’s your order?” he asks and your eyes snap up to him, realizing he is still looking at you.

“Huh?”

“What’s your order? I’ll get it for you so you don’t have to wait longer.” “Oh, I’ll just have a stout,” you tell him, feeling a little flushed from his offer. His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What?”

“Didn’t take you as a stout person is all,” he smirks at you as the bartender appears in front of him with his drink, asking if he wants anything else. “And a stout, please.” The guy nods and disappears to get your drink.

“I uhh—I only have card though,” you speak up realizing you can’t pay it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.”

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” you protest and he seems amused that you don’t just let him pay for your drink.

“How about this: you pay for the next round. Me and my mates are sitting over there, just come over when you finish this,” he offers, pointing at two guys sitting a few booths away from you and your friends.

“This was supposed to be my last round. I have to work in the morning,” you breathe out tilting your head.

“What? Work on Saturday? What kind of job is so cruel to make you work on a Saturday morning?” he asks with a boyish smile.

“One that pays my bills and most importantly my beer,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, then make it just a soda,” he cheekily says and you feel giddy that this man is so keen on having another drink with you.

“I guess that could work,” you smile just as the bartender appears with your drink and the handsome man pays for the drinks, just then you realize you don’t even know his name. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you tell him taking your beer. He tugs his wallet into his pocket before holding a hand out for you.

���Harry. Nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly and the moment you take his hand, you feel the tiny sparks. This man is surely something else. “I’ll be waiting for our next round,” he cheekily tells you raising his glass before the two of you part and go back to your own groups. As expected, your friends are already waiting for you with wide eyes and excitement, having witnessed your little chat with Harry at the bar.

“Who was that?! No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You need to go home with him!” Abigail smacks her hand to the table earning a chuckle from you.

“Don’t be dramatic, I just met him.”

“And you have to get to know him better. Deeper, you know what I mean?” Mona prompts.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you all. He is hot, but I’m not looking to day anyone right now.”

“You know, it’s starting to get boring to hear you say that you are just working on yourself these days. That’s not what you’re doing,” Piper gives you a look. “You are wasting your time on work and school and all these stuff that will be there when you’re older. Live a little, Y/N!” she begs.

“You guys make me appear like a no fun bitch, but that’s not who I am!” you defend yourself, though you know they just want the best for you.

“A fun bitch would ditch us right now and go over to their booth and then ride his dick all night.”

You gasp at the unfiltered answer you just heard from Mona, but deep down, you know she is right. You haven’t really let yourself be a little crazy in a while, your one night stands stopped the moment you graduated and stepped into the world of work. It just didn’t fit into your everydays, you had a lot to worry about, making a living and keeping your life on track, but you have it all now. What’s stopping you from hooking up with a cute guy?

“I’m not gonna just ditch you guys, came here to spend time with you!”

“Shut up, we are leaving then,” Abigail snaps, downing the rest of her drink in a blink of an eye and for a moment you’re speechless.

“What? No! We never get to spend quality time together, all four of us!”

“Honey,” Mona sighs. “We love you and we know you need this. So go, get the tatted hottie and we’ll meet up another time when you’ll get to tell us all about how good the D was.”

“Jesus, you guys are unbelievable,” you chuckle shaking your head, accepting the fact that they are really forcing you to do this.

They all quickly finish their drinks and get ready to leave, hugging you before they exit the place, leaving you alone in the booth. Staring down at the stout in front of you, feeling nervous to just walk up to the guys a few tables away, though Harry told you to go over, however he didn’t invite you to join their group, just promised another round.

You take a few long gulps, hoping the strong drink will bring out your courage and before you could talk yourself down you grab your bag and drink, heading over to Harry and his friends. He is sitting at the far end so he easily spots you walking over, perching up in his seat when he sees you approaching.

“Hey,” you greet them all with a shy smile, waving around. There’s a blond guy sitting across Harry and a brunette with equally as many tattoos on his arms as Harry.

“Hey, you haven’t finished your drink,” Harry observes with a small smirk.

“Um, no. But my friends left and I was wondering if I could… join you guys.”

“Oh, the honor is yours! Take a seat beautiful!” the blonde one immediately slides further into the booth so you can sit across Harry. “I’m Niall, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“So very nice to meet you,” he grins at you, words thick with Irish accent. “That’s Louis over there,” he gestures towards the third man who nods in your way with a welcoming smile.

“Hi. I’m hoping I’m not interrupting though.”

“Oh, never,” Niall shakes his head immediately. “We saw you chatting up Harry at the bar, have been teasing him about going up to you since then,” he cheekily comments and you see Harry giving him a look, but Niall couldn’t care less.

All three of them are hilarious and you love the dynamic in their friendship. Niall is clearly the loud one, Louis is the cheeky who is always up for some mischief and Harry is somewhat the serious bloke, but it’s clear he doesn’t say no to any crazy ideas his two friends make up. You love the teasing and joking, they make you feel welcomed and as if you’d known them for longer than just an hour. As promised, you pay for Harry’s next drink, but you stick to just a lemonade, not wanting to overstep your own boundaries.

All while you’re sitting with the guys, you keep catching Harry eyeing you, your gazes meet over your drinks and at one point you feel his leg finding yours under the table, your ankles pressing together as he nudges you with his feet. You feel like a giddy teenager flirting with her crush, Harry’s effect on you is probably very clear too, but you don’t care.

Louis is the first one to leave and Niall follows not long later, leaving you alone with Harry. The nerves are raging in you as you try to figure out which way to take it. Though he seems like a nice guy, you still don’t want to take it any further than a hookup. Dating is just not in the cards for you right now. But how do you imply a one night stand? Do you ask him to come to your place? Or do you go to his? You would rather go to his so you can sneak out first thing in the morning, spare you an awkward talk over breakfast before you leave.

“We should… get going too,” you suggest and Harry nods in agreement, finishing up the last gulps of his beer. You take a deep breath and decide to just be straight forward. “Maybe I could go to yours? Have another round there?” Your suggestion comes out fainter than you intended, but you still manage to sound confident. Harry seems a little surprised, but he doesn’t voice it.

“Another? Thought you were done for the night,” he tells with an amused smirk.

“I’m sure you have something alcohol free,” you shrug innocently.

“I surely do,” he nods. “Alright, let’s get going.

He calls an Uber and the two of you sit close in the car, thighs touching and at one point his large hand finds your thigh, squeezing it gently that sets a fire in your core almost immediately. It’s been long you’ve been touched by a man, you were starting to forget what it feels like, but you know Harry will remind you well about it.

He lives in a nice townhouse and you note how it’s not too far from the campus you’ll be going to a lot in a week. He keys the two of you in, switching the lights on in his cozy home. It’s not messy, more like lived in. A lot of books everywhere, the furniture doesn’t match, but all together, the whole place is pulled together somehow. It’s very like him.

“So, what would you like to drink?” he asks walking into the open concept kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. “I have some tea, orange juice, water…”

As you watch his broad back, his muscles moving under the soft fabric of his shirt, you quickly forget about any drink. You want him and you want him now. Walking up to him you slide between him and the kitchen counter, catching him by surprise when you cup his face in your hands and pull him down into a hard kiss, but a moment later his arms wrap around you, lifting you up from the ground until you are sat on the counter. You open your knees so he stands between them, his crotch meeting yours as you kiss messily, all tongues, tugging and nipping, but oh my! You absolutely love it. The man has a mouth full of magic and you can only imagine what else he can do with those lips.

A whimpered moan leaves your mouth when you feel his growing bulge rub against your core as his lips travel down your jawline and throat, kissing and licking on your heated skin.

“Harry, bedroom,” you demand grabbing onto his shoulders and he doesn’t waste a moment, picking you up into his arms and heading somewhere down the hallway. You can’t quite comprehend what way it is, you’re way too lost in the feeling of his lips on your collarbone and neck, surely leaving marks on you.

He lays you down to a king sized bed and gets on top of you right away, following his wandering down your body. His ring clad fingers work fast on the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you in a moment before he kneels up and gets rid of his own shirt. He looks breathtaking, all the tattoos littering his chest and stomach, you just want to kiss all of them, feel his skin on your lips.

As he unbuckles his leather belt you push down your skinny jeans, throwing the item to the side without ever taking your hands off him. The man surely has all your attention.

When his slacks join the rest of your clothes on the floor he climbs on top of you again, kissing down the valley between your breasts that are still covered in the lacy bra. Your underwear doesn’t match, but something is telling you Harry is more eager to see you without them than to examine them. When he hooks his fingers into your panties and starts pulling them down, you reach to your back, unclasping the bra and in a blink of an eye, you’re lying completely naked in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot, Y/N,” he breathes out before those magical lips start working on your nipples, making you moan and whimper under him.

Kissing down your stomach he spreads your thighs wide, gazing down at your naked sex and for a moment you feel a little self-conscious, but the lust in Harry’s eyes quickly makes it disappear.

“You’re gonna let me have a taste, baby?” he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine as you nod eagerly.

He is not a tease. Harry dives right in, his lips meeting your clit, working his magic and you cry out his name, fingers tangling into his locks to keep him in place, not that he is about to stop anytime soon. He clearly enjoys pleasuring you.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp when his tongue runs down your slit and he slowly pushes into you, making your back arch. You need him inside you, you need him to fill you up right now or else you’ll burst. “Harry,” you breathe out, tugging on his shoulders, urging him to come back up.

He climbs up your body, a satisfied smirk on his glistening lips and when he kisses you hungrily, you can taste yourself on him.

“Condom,” you urge him, hands pushing down on his briefs, lips still locked as he reaches to the bedside table. You hear the familiar sound of the package ripping before he leans back, your eyes falling on his naked erection for the first time and your lips part seeing his cock, knowing already he’ll feel you up so well. He rolls the condom on easily before returning to you, but you don’t stay in that position too long. You want to ride this man, see him come undone under you. Being on top is already one of your favorite positions, but with Harry, you just know it’s going to be amazing.

You push on his shoulder and he understands your intention without a spoken word, so he rolls to his back and lets you straddle him, glancing down at his cock that’s now grazing his lower stomach, so hard and throbbing just for you. His fingers dig into your hips when you wrap a hand around his length, positioning him to your center.

“Oh fuck!” he moans when you ease down, his cock filling you up inch to inch, feeling so amazing like nothing before.

“Shit,” you breathe out gasping when you sit on him fully, taking his whole length inside you, stretching your insides so nicely, your wet walls hugging him perfectly.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs lowly as you start buckling your hips, moving back and forth, up and down, the friction you’re creating swallowing you up entirely.

Harry can’t take his eyes off you, a hand wandering up to cup your breast and you cover his hand with yours, encouraging him to squeeze, making you moan passionately. He starts buckling his hips in sync with your movements, meeting you with every little thrust, hitting just the right spots, building up your orgasm so easily like no man has ever done before.

“Harry, oh God!” you moan, falling forward, leaning onto your arms next to his head, your lips meet in a hungry and demanding kiss as he wraps his arms around your body, thrusting up into you hard and so good, you whimper against his lips.

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? I wanna see you feel good,” he pants, never slowing down. A few moments later he rolls the two of you around, your back hitting the sheets again as he moves one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, hitting a spot that almost makes you see stars.

“Oh yes! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out so loud, you can only hope the walls are thick enough to keep your voice locked in the room.

“Not planning to,” he chuckles shortly before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hold onto him for dear life, fingers digging into his sweaty skin, feeling as if you are melting into him.

Harry rocks into you relentlessly, your toes curling as you feel your orgasm finally arriving, making you gasp for air.

“Harry! I’m gonna cum!” you moan and he lifts his head, never stopping, not even for a second. His green eyes lock on your gaze, curls flopping into his forehead as he watches you in awe.

“Let it go for me, baby. Cum all over me, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good!”

He picks up his pace just enough to make you lose your mind. It hits you like a pile of bricks, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as you moan his name again and again. Your walls clench around him and it’s enough to throw him over the edge as well. His thrusts become uncoordinated and harder as his mouth hangs open.

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel so fucking amazing!” he whimpers through his pleasure and you watch him fall apart, panting and gasping for air, trying to remember every little detail about him. This is an experience you surely won’t forget and will probably fantasize about a lot when you’re alone at home, playing with yourself, seeking release.

A few more sloppy thrusts later he stops, kissing your lips passionately before he pulls out and falls to the mattress next to you. You both need a few minutes to recover from it, just panting and laying numbly next to each other, Harry’s arm thrown over your stomach. You turn to the side and immediately meet his glistening eyes, filled with satisfaction and bliss. When he finally recollects himself he pecks your lips softly before leaving the bed. You watch him remove the used condom, tie it and toss it into the small trash can near his dressed before he moves to the bathroom. When he reappears, he is wearing a fresh pair of boxers and he has a wet washcloth in his hand. Sitting beside you he gently cleans you up as you murmur your thank you.

“Want something to sleep in?” he asks then and you nod. He grabs you a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that you put on gladly. They smell exactly like him, soap, something citrus-like and a hint of anise.

He returns to bed and pulls you into his embrace, you gladly make yourself comfortable curled up to his side. Lying there, feeling his fingers gently running up and down your arm almost makes you want more from him. You could get used to share a bed with him and it’s not just because of the mind-blowing sex, but he is a lovable person. You feel bad you’re planning to leave without a trace in the morning, but then you tell yourself it’s what has to happen.

Harry doses off soon and you follow him right after, the warmth of his body puts you to sleep easily. When you wake up it’s still clearly early. Harry is sleeping soundly next to you, face squished into the pillow and you almost stay, wanting to see what he’s like in the morning, but you don’t let yourself change your mind.

You get dressed into your own clothes and leave the ones he lent you on top of his dresser. You tiptoe out of his room and grab your bag before looking for a piece of paper and a pen. You quickly scribble down a short note for him.

“Had fun last night. Hope you won’t be mad, but I only saw it as a one night stand. You’re an amazing man, Harry. I’m glad we met. Xx  –Y/N”

It’s more than nothing, than leaving without a word and you don’t let the guilt take over you. Taking one last look around, glancing in the way of the bedroom where he is still asleep, you pack it all up and put it to the back of your mind before walking out.

The last week before your classes start passes by faster than you imagined. It’s your last week fully in the office so you try to work a little ahead, staying in afterhours so you won’t have that much to take care of while you get used to being a uni student again. You usually get home after nine and basically fall into bed right away, and you even work during the weekend before the Monday when school starts. You go to bed way too late so it’s not a surprise you wake up late. You get ready in a rush, throwing out your plan to get a coffee on your way out the window since you are way behind time. Running across campus you’re lucky you already know your way around so you don’t have to wander around, looking for the room you have to be at, but even when you finally reach the right hallway you’re ten minutes late to the class.

Introduction to International Relations, held by Prof. Styles, 8.30-10.00, it reads on the little timetable attached to the way next to the closed doors and you pray the man didn’t start in time, so you’d be late with just a few minutes. Taking a deep breath you push the door open trying to make no sound and unfortunately, you are met with an auditorium full of people, everyone looking at you as if it was against the law to be a little late to class.

What the Hell is wrong with students these days? Being late was usual when I was a freshman, you think to yourself as you step inside, closing the door behind you, getting ready to apologize to the professor.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Styles, I—Shit,” you end your sentence with a whisper as your eyes fall on the man standing on the podium. He hasn’t turned to you, his eyes are fixed on a paper in his hand, probably the syllabus because he must have been in the middle of introducing the class, but the sudden whispering that starts upon your apology that turned into shit, he finally looks up and his eyes fall on your frozen figure.

Professor Styles is none other than Harry. As in The Harry you met at the pub a week ago, had the best sex with and left without leaving your number to him in the morning. Now he is staring back at you with the same amount of panic and surprise as you.

“What—I uhh…” He clears his throat, looking around and seeing about a hundred pairs of curious eyes who are witnessing the awkward run-in. “Take a seat,” he then firmly says, clenching his jaw as you nod.

With your heart beating in your throat you keep your eyes down on your feet as you rush over to a free seat somewhere at the front, since the back is already kinda full.

“So, uhh—As I was saying this is an introduction so we’ll talk about a lot of different topics, I want you to have a view of the most important aspects before moving onto separate fields.”

You don’t dare to look up as Harry talks about the class, the syllabus, how the semester will be built up and what you’ll have to do to pass. Scribbling your wobbly notes, you nervously bounce your legs under the desk, flashbacks from your time with him popping into your mind through the whole lecture.

This feels like something straight out of a ridiculous movie. How is it possible, that the one time you finally decide to have a one night stand with a hot guy, he turns out to be your professor?! That’s just your luck, it seems.

Harry doesn’t drag the lecture long, dismisses everyone after an hour once every question has been answered. You plan to escape right away, but it turns out Harry doesn’t want to just sweep it under the rug.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks stepping to your desk as you are furiously shoving your stuff into your bag.

“Uh, sure,” you nod, not like you have a choice. You’d love to run, but he is your professor, it would sit well if you ditched him on the first day of school.

You slow your packing down so you finish right when the last student has left the room. Grabbing your bag you turn to face Harry who now seems furious, vivid if you might say. He strides over to the door and shuts it before facing you.

“You said you’re working!” is the first thing he throws at you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Because I am! I’m finishing my masters so I can get a promotion!” you defend yourself.

“Wait, so how old are you?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m twenty-four, what did you think?” You feel offended, did he think you were younger or older? Neither would sit well anyway, so there’s no good answer.

“I-I don’t know, but when you walked right into my class I surely thought you were twenty or something,” he explains exhaling sharply. “Okay, so twenty-four. But still, you could have told me you are a student here.”

“Excuse you? Why would have I told you, we met that night, of course I didn’t share my whole fucking life with you! Besides, you didn’t say a thing about being a college professor either,” you spat at him and it seems like he realizes your argument is quite valid. He can’t blame it all on you.

“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

There’s a short silence as the anger dies down and the awkwardness and shock returns. It’s such an impossible situation, you never thought you’d have to deal with anything similar. Having an affair with your professor? This shit is straight out of some teenage drama.

“I can… drop the lecture, if you want. Only took it as extra credit, because I was interested in it,” you offer the first rational option that comes to your mind.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to. Messing around with credits at this time sucks, you wouldn’t be able to find something else.”

“Okay, so then what?”

“I guess we’ll just pretend like nothing happened,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Like you did in the morning when you left without leaving your number.”

His comment spikes, you can tell he was hurt that you didn’t stay, though now is probably not the best time to bring it up.

“Well, sorry. I didn’t think of it as more,” you dryly say.

“That’s not how you came off, however. Having laughs with me and my friends like we’ve known each other for years and then…” he doesn’t finish, but you have an idea what he wanted to say. And then you had insanely good sex and fell asleep cuddling. It feels illegal to even think about it in this building.

“Look, I’m really sorry I left like that, but look at it this way: if we would have taken it further, it would be way worse now, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe we would have talked more later and found out about this and wouldn’t have had to face each other under these circumstances.”

He has a point, but it doesn’t matter now. The past is the past and you have to figure out how to treat this odd situation.

“You think you can forget about it and we can be professional? I really don’t want this to affect my studies,” you truthfully ask. Harry stares at you for a long moment before nodding.

“I think we can make it work. We are both adults, let’s put it behind us.” You nod, satisfied with his answer. “So what’s your major and why do you need it for your job?”

“It’s communication. I’m set to take over our international partnership groups, but the board is set on having someone with a higher degree. I told my boss I started it back then but never finished when I started working. He said I would instantly get the position if I finished my masters, so… here I am.”

Harry nods, chewing on your answer. Suddenly, as you look at him, guilt washes over you. He is such a genuine and lovely man, yet you left so abruptly, never even giving him a chance. Not that it would have made this situation any different, but it seems like you hurt him.

“Harry, I really am sorry for leaving. I had a great time with you, but I don’t think dating just fits into my life right now. I felt like you’d want more and I didn’t want to deal with all the explaining and apologizing.”

“I get it. It just would have been nicer to talk it out. Not that it makes a change now,” he adds with a soft smile.

“So we’re good?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Professional and all,” he smiles nodding and you feel like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Great. Well, I guess I’ll see you later, professor,” you add a little cheekily and you see the fire in his eyes instantly, but he holds his tongue, not commenting on how sexual it sounds from your mouth. You couldn’t miss out on the teasing.

“Dismissed,” he nods turning away from you as he walks back to his desk. You walk out with the longest sigh that’s ever left your lips.

“Professor Styles! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Piper screams at you over Facetime later that week when the two of you have your usual little chat. You’re making dinner while she lies on her couch, staring at you from the screen with the widest eyes. You just told him the whole thing with Harry and she almost choked. “The man is a professor? This shit is wild!” “Not just a professor, he is my fucking teacher, Piper!” you chuckle awkwardly. You still haven’t fully wrapped your mind around the fact that you hooked up with your professor.

“How old is the dude to be teaching at a university?”

“Well, he said he is twenty-nine. I might have done a little search and since he is british, schooling was a little different for him. Apparently, he finished high school early as a fucking genius that he is, then uni, masters and everything. He started teaching at my school two years ago. The guy is like a big name in the field of social sciences.”

“Damn, he is a gem. So what’s gonna happen now? Y’all gonna fuck on his desk after class?”

“Piper!” you snap at her.

“What? I hope you’re not thinking about passing on him.”

“I passed on him way before I knew he was my professor. We can’t have anything going on because one, he is my professor and two, because I’m not looking for anyone to date.”

“You are so full of bullshit, Y/N,” she snorts. “So what if he is your professor? Just for this semester. Keep it a secret and then it’s done. You’re not some eighteen year-old freshman, he is just five years older than you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to have an affair with my teacher.”

“Not an affair, a relationship! You gotta hold onto good dick if you find one. This is what I did with Ronan,” she smirks satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Piper, have you been listening to what I was saying?” you ask in disbelief. “Yeah, five years is not much, but I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against teachers dating students.”

“Rules are for losers. You literally found the perfect guy and you’ll just throw him away? Said it yourself after your hookup that you liked the guy. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry for not wanting to get myself or Harry out of the university,” you scoff turning the stove off under the sauce before you burn it all.

“Harry? So you’re just calling him Harry?” Piper wiggles her eyebrows at you, leaning closer to the camera and you just groan at her. How was this the only thing that stuck to her?

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you mumble under your breath.

“Okay, yeah, I get you. I truly do. But I’m also your friend who wants to see you happy. So I’m just saying that if he makes a move… be open. He is your professor for only one semester, so once it’s over you are free to do whatever. Fuck, date, anything.”

Soon enough you fall into a pattern with your everydays. Mondays, Tuesdays and Friday mornings are for school. Wednesdays and Thursdays are spent on campus at your lectures and you usually go into the office on Friday afternoons to make sure everything works fine before you go off for the weekend. Having so many credits accepted from before, you have less classes meaning that you have less work to do with school as well. There are a few papers and assignments, but nothing too crazy. You genuinely enjoy your classes, each of them unique in a different way but if you’re being honest, Harry’s class is your favorite. He has done a great job at building up the lectures. Introduction classes tend to be shallow and boring, but not Harry’s. He has chosen interesting but still important topics and he makes sure the students are always involved and he isn’t just reading up his slides dully. There are a lot of discussions, everyone gets to tell their opinion and Harry genuinely seems interested in anything his students have to say.

You also came to realize his class is full of girls, only a handful of men dared to sign up. You didn’t pay attention the first time for obvious reasons, but as you looked around the next week you saw heart eyes and lustful gazes towards the man standing on the podium talking. You’re not sure if Harry doesn’t notice it or just chooses to ignore it, but he is doing a good job at staying professional. In the aspect of your situation as well.

For a bit you were afraid he would have hard feelings towards you or treat you differently, but it’s not the case. You are just another pair of curious eyes and ears at his lectures, only that sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming about that one night. When that happens you can always feel yourself blushing and an irrational fear that Harry can hear your thoughts invades your mind, though it’s stupid. But you always try to stay low just in case.

 It’s early October when an unexpected project lands in your hands at work, setting you back in your schedule. You work through the weekend just to get it right but that means that you couldn’t start working on your paper for Harry’s class that has to be turned in by the end of the week. So next Monday morning when class is over you walk up to him to ask for some more time.

“Hey, can I have a word with you?” you ask and as he glances up at you he seems surprised you initiated a private conversation.

“Sure, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to ask if I could have just a little more time to turn my paper in. I know it’s due Friday, but I’m a little behind and it would be amazing if I could work on it on the weekend. I’m sure I’d be done by next Monday.”

You’re afraid he might think you want to use your history and take advantage of it, but it seems like Harry looks more concerned than upset about your request.

“Yeah, sure. Everything alright though?”

Your eyes wander around the room, only a few more people are left inside and they are heading out as well. For some reason, you are a little paranoid that someone might figure out what happened between you and Harry though it’s nearly impossible.

“I’m good, I just got some extra work last week and it totally threw me off.”

“Oh, what kind of project?”

“I just have to put together a communication plan for three of our partners and it’s taking way more time than I expected,” you admit with a chuckle.

“I think I have an amazing book about international communication plans. I could lend it to you, if you’d like. It has amazing tips on sustainability.”

“That would be… amazing,” you say, surprised by his nice offer.

“Are you on campus tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have a lecture. I can come by your office.”

“Fantastic,” he smiles warmly. “And don’t worry about the paper. You’re not the first one to ask for more time. If you hand it in on Monday it’s gonna be perfectly fine,” he assures you.

“Thank you Harry. I-I mean Professor Styles,” you correct yourself, feeling awkward that you called him by his first name, but he just chuckles.

“You can call me Harry outside class.” “Okay,” you smile nodding. “Then, see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave the room.

You spend the rest of the day working unfortunately, still a lot to do with your project. It’s hard to harmonize three different companies from three nations, working in different time zones. The next day you decide to skip your lecture in the noon. The professor is not too strict on attendance so you’re just gonna find a nice coffee place, set up a temporary office and work some more so you can finish everything on time.

You find Harry’s office easily. The door is open and you spot him sitting behind his desk right away, searching for something in a stack of papers. His office resembles a lot to his home, it has a cozy vibe but looks still very much academic with all the books lining on the shelves on the two sides of his desk. You knock on the doorframe as you arrive and his green eyes shoot up to your figure.

“Hey! Come on in!” he smiles at you. “Just a moment please,” he asks, still vigorously flipping the pages until he finally stops. “Here it is, I’ve been looking for it for ages,” he mumbles to himself and you smile. He looks a lot like the version of him you met at the bar. A fun, nice guy, clearly a little lost in his own world, but it amuses you rather then annoys. You wonder what could be happening in that brilliant mind of his.

He pushes himself away from the table and walks over to his bag that lies on the small sofa in the corner. Digging into it he pulls out a thick book that he hands over to you.

“Wow, lengthy,” you chuckle as you flip through the pages quickly.

“Yeah, looks a little dry but I promise it’s good. I put a note to the chapters that are the most relevant to you,” he explains and just then you spot a yellow post-it on one of the pages, a few more following behind.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You smile up at him warmly, holding the book to your chest. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time,” he nods. “And how is it going so far?”

“Uh, it’s… going,” you say with a tired chuckle. “It’s a little tricky, but I’m sure I’ll solve it. I’m gonna work some more on it now, so hopefully I’ll be done within the next few days.”

“You’re not going to class?”

“No, I allowed myself a skip this week so I’m gonna find a café or something.”

“You could… stay here, if you’d like. I could even help if you let me have a look at it. I mean I’m not an expert in communication but I’m good with multicultural stuff.” His offer catches you by surprise and for a moment you want to say no, but then you realize he might actually be helpful. Another set of eyes is always beneficial.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until four, no.”

“And you sure I can stay? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not. Please, I would love to take a look at what you’ve put together.”

You hesitate for another moment, but then let your bag slip off your shoulder as you walk over to the armchair in front of his desk.

You pull your laptop out of your bag and set it on the table so both of you can see from the two sides of the desk. You open up what you have so far, explaining it in details and Harry listens intently, nodding and humming along so you know he is following. At the end you tell him your concerns, the ones you’ve been trying to rule out these past few days so you can finish it all up.

“This looks amazing, Y/N. I’m very impressed by the way you synchronized it all.” “Thank you, but it’s not perfect, so I have a lot to work on. Any thoughts though?”

Harry asks you a few questions before he gives his two cents, telling you what he would do and change. His point of view actually helps a lot, allows you to see the whole thing from a different angle and he gives you some awesome tips. Before you could realize, the two of you are deep in the project, all kinds of books splattered across his desks as you work together to finish the thing. Two hours pass by as it was just two minutes, but at the end, you have it all figured out.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s done!” you breathe out, scrolling through the document you put together for your boss. Everything is put together, well-thought and in place, thanks to Harry’s help. “Harry, thank you. You literally saved my life,” you chuckle softly, leaning back in the armchair you haven’t left in hours.

“You had a strong base, I just helped you find a few solutions, but it was all you.”

“Don’t belittle it, you literally had so many ideas even in fields you are not familiar with. You really are a genius.”

“I’m just good at using my sources,” he smiles at you, glancing down at all the books he has pulled out during the process. “It was fun working on something so practical, I’m way too used to literal things.”

“Oh stop, you want me to feel bad because you are this ridiculously smart college professor who doesn’t get to work on practical projects?” you tease him earning a boyish smile.

“Maybe I do want that.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” you laugh and he joins you. Once the mood settles you realize how good it felt to be around him. The dynamic the two of you had was so great, working with him felt like a fun activity. And now that you’re done, you really don’t want to leave this office though you know you have to.

“You know, I might come to you with work stuff all the time. You just spared so much time for me, I really thought I wouldn’t finish before Friday.”

“My door is always open,” he smirks shrugging. “I’m glad we got to work together. You really are great at what you are doing. Your boss is lucky to have you around. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing group leader once you get your degree.”

“Thank you.”

His compliment actually means a lot. Aside from this weird situation, Harry is a brilliant mind in his field. Hearing him tell you that he thinks you are doing an amazing work is such a boost to your ego.

“Well, I owe you one for this,” you tell him as you start packing up.

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he smirks, watching you put your things away.

“Mhm, see you around, Harry,” you smile, waving in his way before walking out.

“See you, Y/N.”

Thanks to Harry you get to turn in your project in time and write his paper until the original due date as well. You send it in email and for your biggest surprise he answers later that day.

“Glad you could finish in time, can’t wait to read your thoughts on the topic! –H”

It’s a simple message, but what catches your eyes is the signature at the end. It reads his full name, Prof. Harry Edward Styles, the school’s name, his official office hours and at the very end… his phone number.

Looking at it you think it seems a little out of place, as if it doesn’t belong there originally, he just added it to your email, but you can’t tell. Is this a hint? Does he want you to call or text him? What if he puts it into every email, not just yours? Would it be awkward to text? Why do you even want to text him in the first place? You agreed to stay away from him!

It keeps eating you the whole evening, staying on your mind, doesn’t matter what you do. After you’ve drunk a glass of wine with your dinner you finally make up your mind, convincing yourself it’s strictly friendly as you type in the words.

Y/N: Turned my project in, my boss already emailed me he likes it so far. Thanks for the help again. –Y/N

His reply comes fast and luckily, he doesn’t question why you decided to text him.

Harry: Glad I could help! Ran over your paper, looks great too. You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N.

There’s no stopping after that. The two of you keep talking through texts and though it’s all casual and friendly, you don’t feel bad about it, because in class, you still keep it professional and you have no advantage. He treats you just like any other student, keeping your friendship away from whatever happens in the classroom.

The line slowly starts to blur, however. You think way more about Harry than you should and you actually find yourself regretting that you’re not able to get as close to him as you want. He fascinates and attracts you in ways no one ever could before and something is telling you he shares these feelings, but you are both keeping it at bay, afraid what would happen if you let your desires take the lead. You just wish you could go out with him, have drinks with him and his friends like the night you met him, forget about how he would always stand on the podium on Monday morning no matter what happens and he’ll be grading your papers. Mixing feelings with this impossible situation might turn it into a disaster and you know you have to stay strong, but it’s getting harder.

Harry is the kind of teacher who likes to finish his class before everyone else, so when December rolls around everyone already has their grades from the papers that had to be turned in through the semester, so when December rolls around it’s all just free talks, he starts interesting discussions about topics students want to talk about. His lectures feel like free time but still, no one skips them because they are always so entertaining and interesting.

“Alright, we’ll meet for the last time next week. As per suggested, we’ll talk about the European Union so get your questions and thoughts ready,” he smiles around, ending the lecture. “Y/N? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” you smile at him. Putting your things away you walk up to his desk much more carelessly than before.

“So I have a question and you can totally tell me if you don’t want to go, but there’s this great International Affairs Summit next weekend just a few towns over, not more than a two hours ride. I thought that you might be interested in going? They’ll have some awesome presentations and displays, thought it might interest you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, he seems nervous, stumbling over his words a little as he avoids looking into your eyes. He looks so much younger, not at all like the respected professor that he is. He is just Harry now, the guy you bonded over that stout he paid for.

“Sounds nice,” you answer smiling at him, he seems surprised at your answer. “I would love to go.”

“Really?” You chuckle at his disbelief.

“Really.”

“Just to be clear it’s not a school thing, it’s gonna be the two of us,” he clears and your grin widens.

“It’s clear. Still want to go.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out, a smile finally tugging on his lips. “I can pick you up in the morning.”

“Sure. Can we discuss the details in text? I have a meeting soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll talk later,” he nods enthusiastically, seemingly very joyful that you agreed to go on this trip with him.

“See you later, Harry!” you wave at him walking out of the classroom.

“Later!”

Piper would be very satisfied to know that you are going away with Harry this weekend. Though you still try to tell yourself it’s nothing more than just a friendly thing, you’re not fooling yourself. You want it to be more and now that the semester is over, your doubts and fears are almost fully forgotten and left at the beginning of September. Soon Harry won’t be your professor and you now see that it wouldn’t be that bad if something more happened between the two of you. You grew close through the year even though you only kept in touch through phone, appearing publicly wasn’t really an option, but still, you got to know him better and you liked him. A lot. There was no use in denying that.

Harry picks you up early in the morning and so the little trip begins. You take control over the music and play some of your favorites to him while he drives, educating him on recent popular music. Then he shows you some of his favorites, playing a lot of Fleetwood Mac and you weren’t expecting anything else from him.

He looks great today in a creamy colored knitted sweater, black wool coat and grey checkered slacks. His hair is now longer than when you met him for the first time, but it just adds to his amazing look, he rocks it pretty well.

The two hours pass by fast and you arrive to the Summit. Checking out the program the two of you choose the presentations you’re most interested in, leaving some time in the middle of the day to have lunch somewhere near.

You choose a sandwich bar that has a nice winter garden at the back looking out to a little pond. You sit at a small table, the conversation hasn’t stopped since the morning, only paused when the presentations were happening, but you always picked up right where you were before. Harry tells you about his time at university back in the UK and you’re a little surprised to hear that he was kind of a wild kid for a while.

“You? Wild?” you laugh. “I can’t picture it.

“It was mostly the first year though. Felt like I can’t miss out on anything so I was at every party and gathering,” he chuckles softly.

“And why did you stop?” “I don’t know,” he shrugs, but you know he is not telling you the truth, so you gently kick his leg under the table. “Alright, but you can’t laugh!”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“It sounds very nerdy, but I fell in love with studying. I mean I was always a good student, that’s why I could finish high school earlier, but I did it to be done with it already. But then I grew an odd love to studying, to learning new things. I wanted to read every book there is, know everything in the world.”

“And do you know everything now?” you ask with a soft smile, completely in awe with how he talks about his passion for sciences. You don’t find it funny at all, more admirable.

“Not even a fraction of it,” he chuckles. “But I learn something new every day,” he shrugs.

“What did you learn today?”

“That Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus had… beef?” He is a little unsure about the last word that you taught him today in the car when you were listening to a song from Miley. It sounds so funny hearing from his mouth.

“Yeah, beef,” you nod chuckling. “Great knowledge you’ve learned today.”

“I learn a lot from you,” he smiles cheekily. “But really. I’m glad you could come today. Felt like I needed to take this step since you took the one before this.”

“Huh?” you ask, a little confused about what he is talking about. Then, as if he realizes he just said something he shouldn’t have, he chuckles nervously, keeping his eyes on his iced tea on the table.

“Well, I hope this won’t be too weird, but when you emailed me your paper back in October and I replied… I put my phone number into my signature and told myself that if you use it, I’ll take it as a hint that you… are open to more. And you did send me a text, took the risk so I thought I should be taking it next.”

You look at him in awe. So you were right, he did put his number in just for you and wanted you to use it. You’re amazed at how sneaky he was to find out how you’re feeling about him, but now you’re glad you took the risk and texted him.

“So you asked me to come today. I see where we are standing,” you nod smirking.

“You’re not mad? At the number thing?”

“Why would I?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, but we agreed to keep it professional and all along I yearned for something more and threw you this hint. When I sent the email I wanted to take it back immediately, thinking that you’d see through me right away,” he admits.

“Well, I didn’t,” you tell him making him laugh. “I debated for a long time whether I should text you or not and then just… said fuck it!”

“I’m glad you did,” he smirks and his gaze holds yours for a little, you can feel the moment you’re sharing. This conversation has definitely opened a door for the two of you.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. You love having Harry with you and discuss the presentations with him later. He has a great mind, you love sharing your thoughts with him, get deep whenever something really catches your attention. It’s so easy to talk to him and you actually feel like he values your thoughts, unlike some men you had to deal with in the past.

During the ride back home you keep thinking about whether you should take it any further or not. You surely don’t want him to be just a one night stand anymore, it’s still very fresh but you actually feel like you’ve started falling for him and you wonder where he is standing in the situation right now. Today has changed a lot so when he parks in front of your building, you decide to just risk it again, like you did it so many times with him.

“Would you want to come up for a little? I could show you that article I talked about today,” you say, trying to sound calm though you see the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting this invitation.

“I… would love to. You sure it’s not too late?”

“Positive,” you smirk at him unbuckling yourself.

He follows you up to your apartment. It’s definitely not as big as his home, but you take pride in it. It’s the perfect size for you and you’ve worked a lot on making it your home. Harry is looking around, inspecting the place as you walk into the small kitchen and grab two bottles of beer, offering one for him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, following you to sit on the plush couch you adore so much. It feels like a cloud is swallowing you up. “This place suits you.”

“Thanks. You know, this is what I thought about yours too.”

“Yeah? I think mine is just a mess,” he chuckles, taking a sib from his beer.

“It’s a good mess. Liked it.”

There is some tension, but in a good way if you might say. As if you both were unsure about where it’s heading, walking on eggshells, not knowing where the boundaries are lying as of right now.

“You know, the semester is almost over,” you imply, giving him an innocent look.

“I’m very much aware of that, the pile of tests on my desk waiting to be graded reminds me every day of it,” he chuckles making you smile too.

“Mhm and it also means that very soon you won’t be my professor anymore.”

You scoot closer, your knees coming in contact with his thigh and he sucks on his breath, looking down at the spot where you two touch. You really hope he won’t turn you down, because you’ve already gotten your hopes up about making it work.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you nod confidently. He doesn’t move and you’re losing patience. So grabbing his beer from his hand you place his and yours as well to the small coffee table before shamelessly swinging a leg over him, sitting on his lap. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and his hands immediately find their way to your waist, his thumb caressing the skin that shows from under your ridden up shirt. However you see hesitation in his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on in your head, talk to me,” you ask him softly, tilting your head to the side.

“I just… I know soon it’s gonna be alright for us to… you know. But I… I hope you know it’s not a game for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I’m all in, Y/N. I know it’s been a crazy few months, but I really like you. A lot. I love talking to you, I love it when you are talking so passionately about things that interest you. I love how open and hardworking you are. I think that you’re an amazing person and I don’t want this to just be some passing, quick thing. I’m serious about this. About you.”

You can’t hold your growing smile back as your hands move up to cup his cheeks. Leaning closer you peck his lips softly.

“Great. Because I’m serious too.”

Harry breathes out in relief and a second later he is kissing you hungrily, letting his desire take over after holding back for so long. You weren’t the only one having a hard time during lectures. He hated how he always found himself looking in your way, thinking about how beautiful you are, how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms and it ached his heart that he had to keep himself so far away from you. When you took the risk and texted him, he could cry in excitement and he knew right in that moment that he is fucked for you.

Though it started a little rocky, now that he has you in his arms again, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to this very moment and he is overwhelmed with joy. He is more than ready to show you how serious he is about you, not just with his words but his actions, so he is quick to leave the couch and navigate into your bedroom to relive that mind-blowing night the two of you shared back in late August.

“Congrats, Miss Y/L/N. We are looking forward to seeing you work your magic as the leader of the group.” The executive manager shakes your hand and you see your boss from the corner of your eye, looking at you proudly.

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint,” you smile back.

You say your goodbye to everyone else in the room before finally heading out with the widest smile on your face. You did it. You finally got the promotion.

You finished your masters just a month ago and this meeting was scheduled almost immediately. For a while you were afraid they wouldn’t wait until you finish your studies, but they proved that they wanted no one else but you, making you feel so valued.

Walking back to your office you do the rest of your work left for the day, finishing up every pending task so you can be free for the weekend. When five o’clock finally comes you pack up and head out. Pushing through the double doors you step out into the warm July afternoon, immediately spotting a mop of curls you know all too well. Harry is waiting for you leant against his car with a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling at you with pride as he watches you cross the parking lot.

“What’s this for?” you ask teasingly when he pushes himself away from the car and kisses you softly before saying anything.

“A little something to celebrate your promotion.”

“How do you know I got it?” you ask, trying your best to sound serious. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“I knew you’d get it, who else would get it? Did they not fucking give it to you?” he asks, working himself up at the thought that you weren’t the one to get promoted.

“Relax, I got it,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him a little longer this time.

“I was ready to fight whoever I needed to,” he mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle pecking his lips again.

“That I am. And not just because I would throw a fist for my love, but because I knew you’d get it so I went ahead and booked us a mini vacation for this weekend. So let’s head home, you have thirty minutes to pack before we leave,” he smirks down at you, clearly satisfied with himself.

Harry is always full of surprises. In the one and half year you’ve been officially together, he never failed to surprise you with the tiniest things, make you feel loved and appreciated no matter how long you’ve been dating.

“Where are we going?” you ask in excitement, eyebrows shooting up on your forehead.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Harry listened to every hint you’ve dropped how you’d love to spend some time away in some cabin in the woods, disconnecting from the world just for a little and he found the perfect place for that a few hours away. He knew you’d be the one to get promoted so he took the risk to book it weeks ahead, making sure you’ll have the perfect place for the celebration. You have a slight guess it’s gonna be like that because Harry is great at taking hints, but what you doesn’t know is that deep down his already packed suitcase, there’s a little velvety box with a ring inside it that he plans to put on your finger this weekend, hoping you’ll give him the answer he wants to hear.

And you will. Because you are head over heels in love with this man, have been for a while and you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

The two of you head home and your hand finds his over the shifting gear, lacing your fingers together with his. Glancing at you he kisses your knuckles, pressing a long kiss to your empty ring finger.

“I love you,” he tells you and the three little words never fail to make your heart flutter. While the lamp is still red you quickly lean over and steal a kiss from his soft, pink lips.

“I love you too, professor,” you tell him teasingly. He didn’t like it when you called him that back when he was still just your professor, but since the air has been clear, he grew a liking to it, especially because he can’t get enough of hearing you moan it in the bedroom.

You call him a lot of other pet names too. Baby, H, Har, Sweets, whatever comes to your mind while he likes calling you his baby, Angel, Princess or Love. And as the two of you head home he thinks about how he wants two new names to be added to the list. Husband and wife.

 -

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

 @harrysgloves​

[serumandsteel]

the way we heal | jj maybank

- pairings: jj maybank x reader

- summary: people deal with trauma in different ways but it seems that jj thinks you don't care about the loss of your friends and deep down himself but he just needs to understand that people heal in their own time and through their own meanings, he just needed to be reassured of it. kinda pre season 2 ep 1 give ot take

- warning(s): really motherfucking angsty and swearing. mention of substance abuse

- wc: 2.2k :))))

a/n: all my fics the pogues and reader are the age 17/18 only because that's more comfortable for me to write. its been a long long time since i have wrote something so sorry for and spelling errors

People tend to deal with trauma differently. It could be resulting to crying you eyes out until you can’t breath and you can’t see through your tears clouding your eyes. Drinking until your liver wants to shut down and you whole body is so numb that yourself and everyone around you is so tuned out that you can’t function. Resulting to drugs to either feel something or not to feel anything at all. Or to have something to blame your actions on from yourself acting out simply because you don’t know how to handle the situation of a friend dying.

See you on the other hand dealt with it internally or the whim and feeling of not accepting death. Maybe it was your subconscious talking wanting you not to accept or maybe it was the gut feeling that you always got telling you that they were actually alive and have survived that storm that ‘supposedly’ had swept them away because “no body was found”.

This ‘gut feeling’ had always been right in many life or death situations. Or even just you picking out an outfit that you were unsure of whether it was going to get the boys attention that you had a crush on. It did indeed get his attention that night because that’s how you ended up loosing your virginity that night but that’s besides the point.

The best way you could describe it was like when people would do personality tests and it would ask “are you controlled by your heart or what you feel” probably not those exact words but you get the point. I felt with my feelings if my gut said yes then it was a yes.

Since the night that John B and Sarah had ‘died’ your gut had been telling you the opposite. That they were in fact not dead. As Big John use to say when you were a kid, you can never kill a Routledge. At the time it seemed like bullshit but now it was starting to grow on you.

However now your two friends were presumed dead and not everyone dealt with trauma like you did. Some would even go as far to say that you didn’t actually give a fuck that your friends were dead because you hadn’t cried or you hadn’t drunk yourself into a state of no return or resulted to smoking weed every single day and spray painted ‘murder’ on Ward Cameron’s estate. But at least Kiara wasn’t lying.

But the thing was you hadn’t cried because you couldn’t, you quite literally hated crying because it made you feel weak. Even if you tried and you tried your hardest but nothing came. At this point you could go as far as denial. This gut feeling was like getting hit by a semi truck every time a thought came into your head questioning maybe they were dead. Maybe they did get swept away at sea and never to return.

Your gut feeling was simply not letting you mourn the loss of John B and Sarah and now everyone thought you were an emotionless bitch. I mean they were right to a point but not the whole point.

So that brought you to current day driving around the Cut and night playing fucking real life Where’s Wally but its Where’s JJ Maybank because he’s blacked out drunk somewhere and now you’re on a rescue mission. Not like you had done enough of those in the last few weeks.

About an hour ago your phone rang and it was JJ asking you to come pick him up since somehow he had now idea where he had ended up and was too far gone to put together his surroundings. Well that’s what you had assumed he said since you had to decipher his slurred words.

At this point you had driven around the whole island and gone to every hid out spot that he would go smoke at or to just get away from everyday life. You had gone to all but one place. Where you avoiding that particular house because it held so many memories, plus the fact you hadn’t been near the place since shit hit rock bottom. Yes? But it was the highest chance that JJ was sitting on that dock with his legs swinging over it with a beer in hand.

Well you were right. As you walked down the old dock to where JJ was sitting it was if you could feel all the emotions, thoughts and disbelief crawling their way up your skin from the ground you were walking on. But that gut feeling was like a wave of fire, burning it all the way back to the ground.

“I don’t know why I just didn’t look here first. I should have known aye” you half heartedly said trying to keep the conversation light since you didn’t know what state JJ was going to be in. From the huff you got in response told you he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“How much have you had J?” You asked with concern but still trying to keep you voice light and less reprimanding because you knew he was in a too fragile state for you to be angry.

“Does it even matter how much Iv had. I don’t feel shit anymore” he replied back with his words straight forward and sobered.

“Well have you even given yourself a break for your body to sober up for you to even feel the effects of it? Or have you still been going since yesterday when I saw you? J its not going to do shit if you don’t give it a rest for at least a day or so” you said back trying you best to keep you and your voice as calm as possible. You fucking hated seeing JJ like this, you would never say it to his face but fuck it just reminded you of his dad when he got into states like this. Until the last week you had never seen JJ this bad. But could you blame him.

“You just don’t get it do you” JJ was now facing you and by the tone of his voice you had unintentionally struck a nerve that you were actively avoiding. “Why did you even fucking come if you’re just going to tell me how I should cope. Do you even care that JB has gone? He was our best fucking friend. He was my fucking brother my only family! And he’s fucking gone just like his old man. You haven’t even shed a tear y/n. You’re just acting like nothing had happened. Do you even care!” JJ was now on his feet breathing heavily and his jaw so clenched you’re surprised his teeth haven’t broken

“J, please do not yell at me right now” you asked with your voice shaking trying to hold back something that was bubbling at the surface. Was it anger or was it the water works that desperately needed to be let out.

JJ started to walk back up the dock, showing that he was done with this conversation that he could have avoided if he didn’t ask you in the first place to come pick him up. Deep down he knew that you would be the only one to come and get him, he just wasn’t as good at showing his gratefulness due to the alcohol that was numbing him.

“JJ just wait please, please don’t walk away” You stood back up and starting walking after him quick on the backs of his feet. He halted his tracks and turned around to look at you with a pained look in his face, as you got up close you could see his eyes stained red. Either from crying or the linger of weed still in his system.

“What could you possibly want to say y/n. I really thought you would be the last person not to care about this” JJ was now right up in your face and his voice was holding back trying his best not to yell. But that last sentence had taken you back.

“You think I don’t care JJ!” now you starting yelling “of course I give a shit JJ our friends are gone, they are not fucking here. I know it might not seem that I don’t care. But just because I’m not crying my eyes out every hour or drinking myself into a state where I don’t now where the fuck I am or getting high that I spray paint on any wall I see” your breath was now battling to come to the surface because you were talking so fast.

“Just because Im not doing any of those things doesn’t mean I don’t care JJ! People deal with this shit differently and you need to understand that” you breathed out trying to grasp for air again “the thing is JJ I have this annoying gut feeling thats telling me that John B and Sarah are not dead, and its literally preventing me to mourn them. I have convinced myself that they are alive and I can’t fucking mourn non dead people J. I don’t know how to fucking explain it”

“Well why didn’t you just tell us that” he replied after bit letting your whole rant sink into his brain, weaving its way through the alcohol that was clouding it.

“Because JJ! Even saying that out loud I sound fucking crazy, like I’m in a deep pit of denial. The thing is I’m far from denial. Yes I know there is a massive fucking fat chance that they are dead and have been food for the sharks” you exclaimed

“Don’t make it worse y/n” JJ shook his head not very happy with your choice of words

“Okay yeah sorry bad wording. Im sorry” you lowered your head in sorrow wanting to slap yourself in the face for trying to make jokes out of trauma.

“So its not that I don’t care J, trust me I do care. But John B and Sarah are not physically here with us and I cant physically care for them right now. But when we see them can do that”

“Y/n -“ JJ tried to get a word in but you hadn’t finished

“Don’t JJ. We will see them again” you put an emphasis on ‘will’ “I trust my gut and even you know that when I get a gut feeling that it’s always been right. Correct?”

“Yes but -“ he tried to get another word in but you needed him to listen.

“JJ I care about you. I care about Kiara and Pope. You guys are physically here for me to care for. The thing is I haven’t spoken to Kie since she’s with Pope half the time and I have spoken to Pope since he’s with Kid half the time and you? I can’t speak to you because your too far gone in beers to for me to even get a coherent conversation in” This was such an over due conversation to be had, you were now on the verge of hyperventilating. You needed JJ to hear this. Fully sober would have been better but half sober is the best you’re gonna get.

“JJ I understand if that’s how you’re going to deal with all of this but you can’t throw yourself completely away. We need you. I need you JJ. I can’t have you going off the deep end and then we loose you too. You need to be here for when we get John B back. He will need you for when he’s back”. The water works that you had been holding back had finally been released and trust it to be in front of JJ. He was your fucking rock, you couldn’t loose him. No way that would be your last day on earth if that were to happen.

“I-. Im sorry. I’m just so fucking lost y/n. I don’t know what the fuck to do. You’re always at work and Kie and Pope are god knows where. I just want this to go away so fucking bad. All this pain, I feel like I have no one” JJ was now crying to and gripping your waist as is you could float away into the air

“I know JJ, but you have us you have always had us. But you have to be so stubborn sometimes that you won’t let us in and help, you won’t let me in a help you” you had JJ’s face in your hands making him look at you so he knew you meant every single word. “I’m so sorry if you didn’t think I cared and I wasn’t there to help you, I just deal with this shit in a different way. Just like every single other person. We all heal differently and that’s okay. It dosent mean we care less. It doesn’t mean I care less”

Now there you and JJ stand on the dock leading off the chateau both in each others embrace purging the pain that’s both been locked up inside you for so long. The past you and JJ had people really didn’t tend to understand but neither did you. But you would always find your way back to each other at the end of the day. Despite the fights you had in the past and the days you would be at each others throats screaming at each other to the days you would be secretly stealing a glance at him because you just couldn’t help yourself.

You would always be there to help him take the pain away and he was always be there to do the same for you.

[fireflykaizoku]

Hey!! I'm obsessed with your soulmates swap aus, really i love them they're so good i can't even explain 😭

Could i ask you one with kid but no one can really see they exchanged bodies 'cause they are literally the same? Like y/n has the same character as kid so they seems literally the same as always and it's quite a problem.

Thank you if you do, have a nice day 💕

helloo anon my love! ❤ i'm so so glad you like them! i'm sorry i took long, by the way! but here it is, and i hope you like it! have a nice day ❤

— What are you looking at? — you snapped at someone at the bar. That person was looking at you for you don’t even know how long.

— (Y/N), calm down. It’s your birthday, don’t stress trying to fight again. — one of your friends asked, holding your arm. — Just leave it.

You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. It was easy for you to get irritated and start a fight, you had quite a temper, and honestly, you don’t know how your friends put up with you. The only reason why you didn’t get into more fights, it was because of them.

— I swear, your soulmate better be someone calm. — another friend giggled. — Imagine if they have that temper.

— It’d be a chaos. — you laughed, forgetting about the fight you almost started before. — But I guess the world couldn’t handle a couple like that. I hope they’re level headed.

It was late when you went back home, and you fell asleep right after, hoping you wouldn’t have a hangover the next morning.

Your peaceful slumber got interrupted with a loud bang on the door. Since when your roommate got so aggressive? You barely had time to open your eyes, and realize you were sitting on a chair, in front of a desk, in a room that wasn’t yours. It smelled like oil and metal. What an awful time to switch bodies with your soulmate.

You knew it’d happen eventually, but it wasn’t something you looked forward to, unlike your friends who acted as if it was such an event.

— Kid, the ship just docked. — someone said. — We’ll go get some supplies and head to a bar.

— Go away! — you screamed, still in shock while looking at that body which obviously wasn’t yours.

The man had scars on his chest and right arm, while apparently he didn’t have his left arm, replaced with a heavy mechanical one. You looked at the long coat over your shoulder, the vest and his pants and couldn’t help laughing at his fashion taste. How tacky.

— What a clown. — you whispered to yourself, still laughing. — Out of all people, this is my soulmate? How lucky…

You got up and headed to a bathroom, maybe when you washed your face and actually felt awake, you could find a solution to switch back and go home. Looking at the broken and dirty mirror, your soulmate was very attractive. He had red hair, no eyebrows, a scar on the left side of his face, and goggles. He’s someone you’d look at if you saw him at a bar.

— Now, how do I find him? — you asked yourself. — Well, if he’s in my body, I’ll call my house. I’m sure there’s a den den mushi here somewhere.

When you left the bathroom, you tried to find the transponder snail. It took a while, walking from room to room, but you finally spotted one in what seemed to be the captain’s bedroom. You started calling your house, hoping that your soulmate would answer.

— What?! — the man answered. — If you’re the person who is in my body, you better find a way to switch back.

— Look, I’m not happy with this situation either. I want to go back to my body, so what do we do now?

He sighed, obviously as annoyed as you were.

— I’m the captain of this ship, so you tell my crew to come here to your island so we can switch back. Don’t let people know what’s going on, I don’t want anyone to know about that. I have a damn reputation.

— Are you even that relevant? — you laughed.

— Watch it, just because you’re my soulmate it doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up before replying. First, you went to the kitchen, feeling thirsty. Luckily they had some beer. You took one, and soon enough, you found one of the crew members that stayed on the ship. You demanded to go to your island quick.

— We need to go there. It’s important, and don’t ask any questions, I’ll be working on something or whatever.

You went back to Kid’s workshop, slamming the door behind you. Being in another body was annoying. You didn't know who this person was, you were far from home, and his mechanical arm was so heavy it was bothering you.

When a tall blonde man wearing a mask knocked on the door, opening it right after, you just told him to go away, threatening to throw something at him if he didn’t leave. After that, everyone left you alone.

The only time when anyone knocked on the door after that, was the next morning, when someone said they arrived at the destination.

Finally!

— I’ll be back soon. I don’t want neither of you following me around, got it? — you asked and the crew nodded.

You left the ship, going towards your house. And when the door opened you saw your figure, which was very weird.

— Took you long enough! — he said with a frown. — How do we switch back now?

— I should’ve know you don’t understand about soulmates. — you sighed. — We need to kiss.

— Is that all? — he seemed surprised, thinking it was too easy to be true. — Then let’s kiss now!

— It’s not a simple kiss, you fool. It’s a kiss when we’re in love, which it’s probably not going to happen, so we need to figure something out.

Kid yelled, complained, cussed, and finally accepted how things really were. You two tried to talk without bickering on each other, trying to think of another solution. And after a long discussion, with you yelling at him, both decided that you needed to stay with him on the Victoria Punk until you could switch back.

The crew kept whispering, curious about who was that small person that their Captain just brought to the ship. Maybe an affair? A new member or an ally? No one dared to ask him directly, though, especially since he was in a bad mood.

Kid still didn’t want the crew to know, even though Killer was smart enough and could probably help. You spent many times together at his workshop, seeing him work while you complained you were bored. At night, you two agreed that sleeping in his room would be the best. The red haired man let you keep the bed, saying he didn’t want his body to be sick or in pain, apparently. Whenever his mechanical arm got too heavy, he tried to ease the weight or help you take it off.

Eventually, you had longer conversations with him, seeing you two had a lot in common, surprisingly.

The showers were a little weird, especially during the first few times, when he kept saying your body was very hot, making you feel flustered for the first time in your life. But after a while, it just felt normal.

It has been almost a month since you two met. The ship had docked and everyone was at a bar. A man was flirting with you, or well, with Kid, while thinking it was you. Indeed, you used to draw attention from people when you went out, and you forgot about that until a man was approaching Eustass, complimenting his beautiful looks.

Feeling annoyed, and perhaps even a little jealous thinking that other men wanted you, he got up from his sit and pulled you into a kiss. Of course, the crew had their eyes open. Who knew the mysterious person Kid brought was that straightforward, and who knew their captain would let someone steal a kiss from him.

The kiss wasn’t romantic or cute. It was full of passion and desire, it was unexpected and possessive, as if he was saying “you’re mine”. He bit your lip, and it felt like he was claiming you. Honestly, it was a good feeling, as if you’ve been waiting, without even knowing, for him to make this first move.

You felt butterflies, something you’ve never felt before.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his figure towering over you, and a grin that wouldn’t leave his face so soon. He pulled you closer, making it clear that you were his. He didn’t even ask, but your answer would be “yes” anyway.

— I can’t believe we finally switched back. — he laughed, flexing his arm. — I missed my body.

The crew gasped.

— Switch back? — Heat asked. — Wait, you were in (Y/N)’s body this whole time? And (Y/N) was in your body?

— I must say, I’m surprised. I couldn’t notice any difference. — Killer said. — You two are very alike.

At first, you two seemed offended until realizing the masked man was actually right. You two has the same personality, and it wasn’t what you expected your soulmate to be. Someone peaceful and quiet would be fun, but someone who could raise a little hell with you could be even better.

— You’re annoying sometimes, but I want you to sail with me anyway. — he said gently lifting your chin with his index finger, still with his signature smirk on his face.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 9)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, angst, fluff

Part Summary: Y/N goes to see JJ after the party and she begins to think everything will work out

Masterlist

The Pogues are gathered around the bonfire, chatting over a couple of beers and joints. JJ keeps checking his phone every few minutes, wondering why you haven't texted him yet. You agreed for him to pick you up at your house at eleven, but he wants to wait for your text saying you're home. He's considered just going over anyway, assuming you're already there since dinner would've ended at least two hours ago. Before he has the chance to even rise to his feet to go, you and Topper roll up the driveway. None of the Pogues recognize the gray BMW, except Sarah. 

“Is that Topper dropping off Y/N?” She frowns in confusion as the car comes to a steady halt at the end of the gravel drive. 

Pope presses his fingers to his temples, wide-eyed. “Am I hallucinating?” 

“Okay, enough weed for me," Kiara declares, passing the joint to John B. 

Topper stops the car and turns to you. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you nod, collecting your bag between your legs. 

“Call or text if you need me,” he instructs, still somewhat reluctant to drop you off. 

“Will do,” you offer him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow," he complies, leaning over the divider and planting a quick peck to your cheek. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” you return, granting him a kiss on the cheek as well. You climb out of Topper's car, walking toward the fire pit where JJ and everyone watch you utterly dumbfounded. “Hi guys,” you greet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“Topper knows his way around The Cut?” John B pokes fun. 

“Did he drop you off to scope out the place?” Kiara grumbles. 

“He didn’t want me driving," you explain as you take a seat next to a silent JJ. "We went to Kelce’s for a little after dinner and I’ve been drinking." 

“What a gentleman,” Sarah mumbles sarcastically. 

“Hi Baby,” JJ greets you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Hi,” you grin, leaning in and planting a kiss to his lips to which he reciprocates. 

“I could’ve picked you up,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I know," you state, parting from him for a second. "I just didn’t want to make you do the drive." 

“I’m surprised Topper let you out of the car,” Sarah snickers. 

“We came to an understanding,” you describe vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?" Kiara raises a brow. "What’s that?” 

“We’re just friends,” you reply confidently. 

“I don’t just kiss my friends goodbye...” John B mumbles under his breath. 

“We’re just friends," you reiterate, starring the boy down warningly. 

“You bet you are,” JJ agrees, pulling you into his side. “I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too," you blush, peering over to meet his gaze. 

“Movie anyone?” John B suggests suddenly rising to his feet. 

“Yes!” Sarah bursts. 

“Comedy!” Pope votes. 

“Romance!” Kiara challenges. 

“Actually," JJ sighs, standing up next to you. "I was going to head to bed, wanna come?” He asks as he glances down at you.

You hum. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired actually." 

____________________________________________

You and JJ lay in bed, facing each other as you talk about everything under the sun. You could've watched the movie considering you've been up for hours talking, not once trying to fall asleep. Yet, spending hours laying in bed, talking to JJ, is a much better pass time. 

“Fish tacos from The Wreck,” JJ answers without a moment's hesitation. 

“Ooo, you know I’ve never been there,” you confess, intrigued. 

“Really?!" JJ's eyes grow wide. "We’ll have to go ASAP! Kie’s dad makes the best hush puppies,” he dramatically gestures with his hands. 

You giggle, “sounds amazing.” 

“Okay, now your turn." JJ's arm drapes over you and rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Hmm," you hum, thinking it over. "My grandma’s chicken and dumplings. She always made it when I was sick and it’s like a warm hug.”

“Yum," he grins. “Dream vacation?”

“Anywhere with a beach,” you answer easily. “I love to travel, but I also love the ocean so can’t be too far from it. You?”

“Surfing trip around the world," he nods, clearly having thought about it before. "I’m talking Australia, Japan, Brazil, all over.”

“Surfing world tour. Very surfer Pogue of you,” you tease playfully. 

“Would a Kook Princess like to come?” He offers with a sly smirk as his eyes fall to the small space between you. 

“Sure I’ll follow,” you accept with a soft smile. 

JJ jokingly nudges you on the shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Stop," he chuckles. "If anything you pick the places and I follow. Follow you around the world.”

“You would?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smirk. 

“What’s that Carol King song?” He tries to recall and whispers some of the words. “Where you lead...”

“I will follow," you add in a sing-songy tone. 

“Anywhere!” You both say in unison to each other, causing you two to laugh. 

JJ exhales deeply, catching his breath after laughing.“Talking to you is so easy it’s scary," he confesses, taking your hand in his between you two. 

“I never felt so understood until I met you,” you tell him. 

His brows scrunch together as he watches your hands move around one another. “You don’t think Topper understands you?”

“I do... to an extent,” you shrug, not fully convinced. “He’s known me longer, so he knows why I am the way I am, but he’s not necessarily accepting of all of it.”

“What do you mean?” JJ wonders aloud.  

“If I told him that I don’t want to go to every party and rather stay in, he’d wonder why. If I said I don’t like the Club and rather spend a day on some remote island somewhere he wouldn’t relate. I could tell you that I want to move to Guam and you’d be game for it. Some days I don’t want to have any responsibilities or social obligations which confuses Topper. He’s satisfied where he is. He’s satisfied being stationary and though I’m told I have everything, I don’t want any of it." You pause, finding yourself coming to a hard conclusion. You peer up at JJ who's eyes have left your hands and pour into you. "There has to be more right? There has to be something different out there.”

“Life beyond the OBX?" He seek to clarify to which you nod. "Yeah, there’s an entire world outside of here!”

“That’s what I want..." You whisper. "Something entirely my own and somewhere where no one knows me.” 

“Maybe we should explore it together,” he smiles gently with content. “I mean, as long as it’s okay for one person to know you.” 

“You don’t count," you blush. 

JJ releases your hand, bringing his own to caress your cheek. “I want to see the world with you." 

You lean into his touch, his warmth making you feel safe, seen, and understood. “I think that can be arranged...”

JJ shakes his head, as though he's come to a profound realization. “You’re everything to me." His words slip by in a whisper as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing his statement. 

You run your fingers through JJ's hair, pulling him in deeper. He smiles against your lips, loving your reaction. He moves to hover over you, encompassing you with his body. You take matters into your own hands and press JJ down to lay down beside you. Swiftly, you move to straddle him. A grunt leaves him and you cower slightly. 

"Did I hurt you?!" You nearly panic. 

“No, no,” he’s quick to assure you, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair back. 

You hadn’t noticed when he got into bed, the bruises and cuts scattered across his torso. You remember them from the Boneyard and in the hot tub. You had thought perhaps they were from Topper. 

JJ can tell that your mind isn’t satisfied. "What else is troubling you?" He frowns. "Babe, look at me, please."

"If these weren't Topper, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it,” he scrunches his face with a shake of the head. “Don't worry, it's taken care of,” he tries to change the subject, reaching up to kiss you. 

You gasp. "Did someone do this to you?!" You quickly realize. 

"Y/N..."JJ exhales deeply. 

"JJ, I have to know!” You argue. “If someone-"

"It was my dad okay!" He confesses. 

You heart sinks has the dark reality hits you like a ton of bricks. 

"He... he gets mad sometimes..."JJ describes, looking anywhere but you. He begins to fidget with the hem of your shirt. When... When things weren’t good between us... I picked a fight with him. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I think I wanted it. At least then I could control the pain,” he explains, killing you.

You lean down and plant a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips. When you pull back, JJ stares at you, stunned by the action. You swallow hard as you slide down, keeping eye contact with him as you plant a kiss to his bruised peck. JJ’s heart begins to race as he watches you. You continue on your path to his multicolored rib. JJ’s hand brushes over the top of your head gently. Your fingers curl under the hem of his boxers as you leave a trail of kisses over his cut and bruised stomach. 

"Y/N..." He breathes heavily as his eyes fall shut. 

"Never again,” you tell him warningly as a demand. “You never go back there. Here, Kie's, Pope's, my place, anywhere else but there. Morning, noon, or night, you need a place, come to me. You hear me?"

JJ nods, too consumed in you to voice anything. 

"I see marks like these on you again, I'll kill him and they won't find the body. I've seen enough crime documentaries. I can be like Liam Nison in Taken,” you joke slightly. 

"I'm sure you could," JJ smirks, peering down at you. 

You lift yourself up to hover just above his face. You cup his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, ever! You never have to suffer alone again. I promise. Your pain is my pain. Whatever you inflict on yourself you also do on me."  

"I promise too. You're my world, Y/N,” he tells you and you know he means it. “You're my life now."

Suddenly, there's a ruckus coming from outside in the hall. The sound of the screen door slamming against the frame and shouting. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I’ll go get her! You stay here!” You hear John B yell. 

“Like I’d listen to you!” Another voice barks. 

You break from JJ, trying to listen. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” he frowns, peering over at the door. He climbs off of you and slips out of the bed. He grabs a t-shirt from the chair in the corner and pulls it over his head, his boxers still slightly exposed. 

“JJ, be careful!” You beg, worried that it could be someone looking for trouble. 

"I will, Baby. It's okay," he promises, heading toward the door to check it out. 

“Cool off Topper!” Pope shouts before you hear a bang. 

“Topper?” You mumble in disbelief, flying off the bed and toward the door.

“Y/N!" JJ grabs your wrist as you open the door. "Baby, wait!” 

Before he has the chance to stop you, you stumble into the hallway. JJ rushes out of the bedroom, nearly running into you. Standing at the end of it, in the archway of the living room, Topper turns his attention away from the Pogues. His eyes land on you and a wave of relief consumes him. 

“Y/N...” Your name falls from his parted lips faintly. 

“Topper...” You stand frozen. 

“There is almost an equal Kook to Pogue ratio in this house and I don’t like it,” Pope huffs from behind Topper. 

“I need to talk to you," the tall blonde announces urgently. 

You speed walk down the hall, despite JJ's efforts to stop you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just... I... uh...” Topper stutters, nervously avoiding your gaze, and focuses on the small floor space between you. 

“Have you been drinking again?" You question, coming to the conclusion he has. He smells of beer and weed, more than he did hours ago. "Did you go back to Kelce’s!” 

“I was losing my mind, Y/N!" He bursts, uncharacteristically, causing you to jump and JJ to step forward toward you. "I needed a distraction, but nothing was working!” Topper explains in a rush, all fidgety. “Can we just go somewhere to talk?” 

JJ immediately steps in, moving to stand between the two of you. “You’re not going anywhere with her!” 

“Oh shove it,” Topper snaps at JJ. 

“You forget you’re on my side of the island, Kook!” JJ barks, shoving Topper in the chest. 

“Enough!” You scream, pressing a palm to each of their chests. “For Pete’s sake!” 

“Back off JJ!” Kiara yells. 

“I just need to talk to you,” Topper pants. 

You exhale deeply, glancing between JJ and Topper. You know JJ won't approve and won't allow it without a fight, but you agree to speak with Topper. “Okay, let’s go outside.” 

JJ laughs, pacing around. “You can’t be serious-” 

“Ten minutes!” You shout at him, escorting Topper toward the door. 

“She sure told you,” Topper mocks JJ as he backs up to the exit. 

“Oh shut up,” you grumble, urging Topper through the doorway leading to the front yard. 

You and Topper settle down on the hammock, swinging back and forth on the edge, side by side. The sun has long since set and the lights in the large tree illuminate the yard. Unable to sit still, Topper rises from his spot and paces in front of you. 

“What’s going on Topper?” You ask worriedly. 

The boy stops, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck nervously. “I’m losing my mind, Y/N!" He finally breaks his silence. "I feel like there are weights strapped to me and I’m being pulled to the bottom of the ocean, struggling for air!” He rushes out in a pant. “I’ve been an arrogant ass and too scared to pay attention, but now I’m just scared and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you this now that I’ll never get a chance like this again!” 

You stand, taking his hands in yours. "Just take a deep breath!" 

He yanks his hands free of your hold, running his fingers through his hair as he paces away. "I'm about to be the most selfish person on the planet!" 

“Topper, just say it! It can't be that bad!" You try to reassure him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing minute. You can only assume the worst. 

“I love you!” Topper bursts out, meeting your gaze pleadingly. 

A weight lifts off your shoulder. You thought it was something bad. “That's it? I love you too,” you laugh lightly. 

“No!" He stops you. "Not the way you mean it... it’s not the same! I love you!” 

Neither of you notice the Pogues hiding in the enclosed patio, watching everything go down. 

“I knew it!” Pope announces from his spot by the window. 

“Pay up!” Kiara holds out her hand to John B. 

JJ's heart sinks when he hears the confession leave Topper. He wants to run for the hills, but he can't help but observe you stand there in shock. 

Topper's chest rises and falls rapidly. “I didn’t realize it fully until I dropped you off and saw you with him. I know what I said earlier, that I’m okay with this!" The words fly out of him like a freight train going full speed. “But I’m not! I’ve been in love with you for two years! Before Sarah, during Sarah, after her!” 

“Okay ouch...” Sarah mumbles from her spot on the patio. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I’ve just been too caught up in everything else to notice!" Topper's voice cracks with emotion. 

"You tell me this now!" You shout, growing more frustrated with each passing second. 

He sighs, "I know, I know, I'm sorry-" 

"No! You don't get to apologize!" You snap at him, utterly pissed off and frankly hurt. "You could've had me! You had me, Topper!" You correct as your eyes begin to swell with tears. "You had every opportunity to change the status quo and you didn't! You let me feel like a toy, there to satisfy you when you needed company! Yes, it was fun! Yes, it was great sex! Yes, I fed into the holding and touching, even when you and Sarah were on a break because I thought..." You swallow hard, processing what you're about to say. "Because I thought that eventually, you'd love me!" You break, tears falling down your cheeks. You finally let go of a truth you've been holding in for years now. "If I kept sleeping with you that one day you'd realize that we were more than just friends! Everyone else thought it! But you were caught up on Sarah and then it became not letting Sarah be with John B! I had to break it off after Bermuda because it was killing me! I couldn't take it anymore! I had to begin to move on!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot!" Topper rushes up to you, taking your hands in his pleadingly. "Tonight, feeling you again, I saw the rest of our lives and I want it! I don’t give a shit about our friends or golfing or the Club or Sarah because none of it matters if I don’t get to experience it with you!” He begs, “so pick me! Be with me! Love me!” 

You whimper, unsure of what to do or say. Everything is happening so fast. 

"You slept with him?" 

You turn over your shoulder to find JJ standing just a few feet away. His eyes glisten under the lights of the tree. He swallows hard, taking your silence as enough of an answer. He nods his head, pressing his lips together to hold back his emotions.

“You’re exactly as everyone says!” He yells, pointing at you aggressively. 

In a second, he's sprinting away down the gravel drive. You step forward, ready to run after him, but Topper grabs your wrist. 

"Y/N, don't!" He pleads. 

You yank your wrist free, before running him. "JJ!" You call, "JJ wait!" 

"Y/N!" Topper shouts, running after you. 

"JJ!" You beg for him to stop. 

"Y/N, wait!" Topper grunts, sprinting. 

"JJ!" You struggle to keep up with the boy. Soon, he disappears into the dark woods across the street and you have no choice but to halt, losing all hope. 

You fall to your knees on the gravel. The sound of Topper's feet hitting the gravel quickly approaching. You slam your fists to the ground with a scream, hitting your boiling point. How much is a girl expected to take? 

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

[scented-morker]

⇢˚⋆ ✎ life of the party

Party boy! Jay x female reader

Warning : drinking, partying, but I think that’s it

Word count : 2.05k

Overview: dating the university’s party animal means you have to attend as well, and one night you get a little too into it, ending up with your boyfriend simping for you while you’re wasted in his passenger seat 🥰

･:*:･ﾟ☆

As soon as Jisu turns onto the street you can hear the blaring music, a telltale sign that the "small get together" your boyfriend had convinced you to attend was not as small and casual as he made it sound. You probably should expect it by now, dating the class party animal comes with some not as normal girlfriend duties as say your friends who went to their boyfriends sporting games or went on study dates after school. Not that you and Jay didn't do those kinds of things, but it was a Friday night and half the towns "in crowd" had parents away on a company retreat.

Jisu pulls into the grassy area on the outside of the gate, shifting the car into park while you have her a grateful smile.

"Thank you for coming with me, I get it if you don't wanna be here since it's way bigger than I said"

"Y/n, honey I've done this before, I know your boyfriend and his friends, it'd be crazy of me to think it was going to be anything less than a circus in here. Why do you think I made you change out of that awful mom jean fit?"

You looked down at the expensive lavender dress she had let you borrow, it was a satiny texture and a little out of your comfort zone, but it hugged your figure well and all fear about being overdressed was now scratched as you saw the magnitude of the party.

You sent her a sheepish smile, glad to have a friend with brain cells when it came to parties at least, she copied your homework every morning before class

You step out of the car, thanking past you for choosing the white go-go boots on your feet instead of strappy heels at the sound of your friend squealing as her heels sink into the wet grass. It makes you both walk faster, and before you know it you're walking through the door, instantly being sucked into the giant crowd of bodies. Jisu takes your hand before you can get separated, leading you to the kitchen.

"You," she mixes random bottles set out on the counter into two red solo cups, taking one herself and then shoving the other into your hand, "are going to have so much fun tonight"

You raise your eyebrow at her but take a sip anyway, confused when it doesn't taste disgusting.

"Can you make more of these?" You excitedly ask, knowing this is a much better alternative to the gross keg everyone else was drinking out of.

"Yeah, if you finish it and still want another one I can, but honestly with the amount of stuff in there and your ahem, lightweight tendencies, you might be gone before you finish that"

You give her a playful glare but listen anyway, taking smaller sips as not to chug it all and ruin your brain for the rest of the night.

She heads out to find her other friend Yuna, who she heard was here thanks to the drunk freshman babbling about her smile, and you head out to look for your boyfriend.

You make your journey into the crowd of dancing bodies, stopping to dance with some of the acquaintances you've made at school. Eventually the music changes and you continue your journey, spotting Jay over by the wall, popping a sucker in his mouth as he heads over to where his friend Heeseung is standing.

A surge of excitement goes through you when you see him, the same emotion you get every time you're reminded that he's yours, intensified by the atmosphere of the party and whatever was in your now nearly empty cup. His black hair shone under the party lights and the smirk he wore gave you an adrenaline rush.

'That's mine' you thought smugly as you walked past some girls that were staring at him, giving them an obvious side eye to let them know you had seen them checking out your boyfriend. They averted their looks as you continued your confident stride up to Jay.

"Babe!"

He spotted you coming up to him and his entire demeanor changed, the smirk now a full on smile and he practically ran towards you. Apparently he was just as excited to see you as you were him.

"You made it!!"

"To your little get together" you put sarcastic air quotes around your words while giving a laugh, "yeah I did"

"I'm sorry babe, I should have known it would get this wild" he really should have, but you let it slide because he looks genuine with his apology.

He finally let's go of the hug, sliding his right arm around your waist and looking down at you, seeming to just notice your outfit.

"Wow, you look, wow"

You let out a giggle, pulling the collar of the white shirt he wears under his black tee, and he lets you bring his face down to yours as you connect your lips in a kiss.

You're still giggling when you pull away.

"Thank you"

He laughs at you, grabbing the cup from your hands and checking the level of liquid.

"Yeah how much of this have you had babe," he asks, although the look on his face tells you he already knows.

"Just that one!!"

He gives you the cup back, ruffling your hair and muttering something about "lightweight" before sliding his arm back around you, pulling you with him as he goes back to his group of friends.

You stand with him as he talks to Jake, something about dancing you think, you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus was on his chest, where your hand was fiddling with the long chain hanging off of his neck. You don’t know why you were so transfixed with it, and at this point you were so far gone you didn’t have the brain power to think about it.

You took another sip from your cup, finding it empty and pouting down at the plastic. You tugged on Jay’s chain lightly to get his attention, lifting your cup up to let him know where you were going. He nodded his head once in understanding and turned back to his friends.

You once again had to cross the slew of sweaty, dancing bodies to get to the kitchen, and you once again stopped to dance, partially forgetting what you were even doing in the first place.

Maybe you didn’t need another drink after all. Another drink! That’s what you were doing!

You smile to yourself, eyes turning into round circles as you got back to your original plan.

You’re too lazy to try and make your own drink or find Jisu to make you one, so you just grab a bottle, pouring until your cup is halfway full and then heading back out to Jay.

When you get there he’s laughing at something Sunghoon said, and you get back into your spot on his side, hands finding their way back to his chain.

“Welcome back babe”

You find yourself giggling at the affectionate nickname, leaning into his chest.

“Okay, you” he’s chuckling slightly to himself while he speaks, a raspy sort of laugh that makes your stomach do flip flops, “have had enough of this”

He takes a sip of your cup, almost coughing up a long immediately after before looking at you like you’re insane.

“This is straight vodka”

His friends break out into laughter and you join in with them, enjoying Jays unfortunate action.

“Oops”

He smiles at you before setting your drink down, and quick as lightning he’s picking you up, spinning you around while teasing you for trying to ‘drink like a big kid’, your endless laughter right in his ear the entire time.

When he finally stops you explain yourself, “I was just too lazy to mix anything and beer is gross”

The group laughs again, and then Jay starts telling them goodnight, doing the weird bro hug thing they did after every party and saying he’s going to ‘take this one home before she starts dancing on tables’ which honestly, now that you think of it does sound pretty fun.

You wave goodbye as your boyfriend leads you out, shooting a text to Jisu that you’re leaving with Jay and won’t need a ride home so she doesn’t freak out when she can’t find you.

He’s parked a few feet away from the driveway, surprisingly not blocked in by other vehicles.

He goes to the passenger side ahead of you, opening the door, presumably to let you in, but you take a slight detour.

“Dancing on tables sounds fun, but you made us leave”

He stares at you while you climb up on the hood of his car, slightly shaking his head and letting out a laugh when you start doing the Macarena on his hood.

“Wait wait!! C’mere”

You call him over, and he immediately comes, the passenger side door still wide open as he leaves it to come see you.

“This is gonna be so cool, I’m finally taller than you”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, but the loving smile is still there.

“C’mere”

You notion him closer, and he obliges, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when you attack him with a flurry of kisses all over his face, laughing before eventually joining together at the lips.

He meant it to be a short peck, but when he goes to pull away you don’t let him, holding on tighter to his collar and chasing his lips.

By now you’ve sat down on the hood, abandoning your standing position as you slide further down the car to be closer to him, and his hands rest on your waist before he’s finally able to pull away, although the pout on your face let’s him no you aren’t happy about it.

“What has gotten into you tonight” he laughs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear while you grip onto his biceps.

“I don’t knowwww!!!” You whine, leaning back on the car, “you just look really good tonight. Did you know that? Like as soon as I saw you I just died, and I really want to mess up your hair”

His cheeks stay the same shade of peach that they previously were, although the tips of his ears light up and he smiles down at the floor.

“I mean you can still mess up my hair, but I’m not making out with you in my friends driveway while you’re wasted”

You give him a frown, wanting to deny his accusations but realizing that’s exactly what you wanted to do.

“Fine” you huff out, sliding off of the car and letting him lead you around to the still open door.

He walks around to the other side, sliding in the drivers seat and starting the music, Tattoos Together by Luav floating out of the speakers as he pulls out of the drive.

“I don’t want to leave you yet, can we not go home”

He looks over at you for a little second eyes on the road kids before giving a little nod.

“How about we go get some coffee, sober you up a little, and then we can go to my house and you can show me the star shapes you like”

You excitedly agree, giving a little “yay” as he turns toward the 24 hour coffee place, although your brain can’t let his small transgression slide, and you launch into a speech about “they’re actually called constellations Jay. C-o-n-s- tellstions, idk I can’t spell, but they aren’t star shapes”

He smiles at your rant, purposefully having said it to get you to correct him, laughing while you give a very dumbed down and partially incorrect explanation of how stars are formed.

He wasn’t sure why you curled up in a ball in his passenger seat drunk babbling about astronomy at 2am made him realize it, but he was oh so in love with you, and there was no going back from the blooming in his heart when you laughed at yourself for saying something completely wrong, your hand latching around his and shaking it in your amusement.

Yeah, Jay was in deep.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 25: Prima Materia

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Five Months Later

Friday, November 13th, 1998

“I can’t believe you,” Scully hisses as they exit Skinner’s office. “We’ve discussed this, Mulder. Multiple, no, countless times. You can’t just accuse someone of being a supernatural entity based off a… a wild hunch!”

“A hunch? Scully, we have concrete evidence. It’s literally documented in the folder you’re holding right now.”

“That ‘evidence’ is obviously subject to interpretation,” Scully retorts, stomping down the hall in an attempt to keep pace with Mulder’s long strides. “An interpretation I thought we’d agreed upon before going into that meeting. And I don’t appreciate you abandoning a solid hypothesis, that we discussed at length, in favor of whatever the hell that just was.”

Mulder stops outside the elevator, turning to her. “That was the truth, Scully. It’s out there, if you would just open your mind a little and accept that there are things science still can’t explain.”

“But science can-” She reaches out and punches the button for the elevator, “-explain it. You just like the sound of your own theories and ideas better than fact. Fox Mulder, the champion of truth, the only man willing to consider the extreme.”

“You know you like it,” he says in a low tone.

Scully’s eyes go wide, and she grabs his elbow. “Do not-”

The elevator doors open, and they scurry into the lift. Mulder presses the button for the basement.

“Do not use my weaknesses against me at work, Mulder, that’s not fair,” she says as the doors slide closed.

“Weaknesses?” Mulder asks casually. “Am I your weakness, Dr. Scully?”

“I’m serious. We’ve have a few close calls in the past few months; if we’re not careful, we’re going to be found out.”

“How, by arguing? We did that before we started fu-”

She gives him an imploring look.

“-working after hours,” he corrects. “Besides,” he continues, angling his chin downwards to reach her ear, “I happen to know arguing turns you on.”

Scully licks her upper lip. “I’m just saying we have to be more careful,” she insists, staring straight ahead.

“Then I guess this isn’t the best time to invite you out for a drink,” Mulder says.

Scully glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “It’s Friday the thirteenth,” she notes with a twinge of a smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky?”

Mulder shrugs as the elevator doors open into the basement. “Historically, the thirteenth is my lucky day.”

-

“You know, it’s been nine months since our first date,” Mulder says conversationally. They’d walked to Casey’s Bar from the Bureau and are now perched on stools at the far end of the counter, nursing a beer each.

Scully furrows her brow, obviously doing some quick mental math. “February… that was a date?” she says, somewhat amused. “You should have told me at the time. I wouldn’t have waited so long to put out.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows. “Dana,” he says in mock surprise. “I thought you were a good church girl.”

“What gave you that idea, my penchant for kneeling?” she mutters into her glass.

Fuck, she’s good.

They’ve been together for six months now, and it’s surprising how little has actually changed between them, in the practical sense. They’ve been pretty good at keeping their relationship a secret, Mulder thinks. It helps that everyone in the Bureau already thought they were crazy, codependent, and tanking their respective careers. Apparently, bad reputations make the best cover.

He and Scully arrive at the Hoover building in separate vehicles, squabble over conflicting viewpoints, have lunch together almost every day. He rests a hand on her back, guiding her through the halls, and she gives him withering glances and dramatic eye rolls when appropriate. From the outside, they’re still the same Mulder and Scully.

And then they go home to one of their respective apartments and tear each other’s clothes off.

Well, they usually make it home. That quickie in the office annex was an outlier.

Nine months seems significant somehow. The length of human gestation, Mulder thinks absently. It seems like a length of time worth celebrating.

“Would it be terribly corny of me to propose a toast?” he asks.

“A toast to what?”

He’s suddenly shy. “Us,” he says softly. “How far we’ve come. And how much,” he adds, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She rolls her eyes at him, and it feels overtly fond.

Scully lifts her glass. “To us,” she says warmly. “And to spooky shit.”

“You remember,” Mulder says as they clink glasses, recalling that first toast in Casey’s all those months ago.

“Mm,” she replies, sipping her beer. “I do. It was a… notable evening.”

“What made it notable for you?” he asks.

“We had an actual conversation, for one,” Scully muses. “About our personal lives, attraction, about how we relate to the outside world; and by extension, how we relate to each other. I remember very clearly feeling like we were close to something.”

“So did I,” Mulder admits. “So what happened, on your end?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “The spell wore off, maybe? When I got home that night I remembered all the reasons it would be a mistake to let myself feel. And then Mark happened, and you know the rest of that story.” She turns on her stool to face him more fully. “What happened for you?”

“I took you on a very cold, very dark picnic,” Mulder reminds her.

“Which was wonderful,” she offers.

Mulder nods. “But then when I asked you out again, you had a date. I don’t know, maybe I was going too slow, being too subtle. But when you started going out with that jackass it felt like… in a way, you were saying that what I had to give wasn’t enough.”

Scully doesn’t say anything, just stares down at her glass.

“And I realize that it’s selfish of me to project that onto you,” he amends. “Your choices aren’t about me. But fuck, I wished they were.”

“You’d be surprised how many of my choices actually were about you,” she says softly. “I surprise even myself. You told me before that you didn’t think I’d last a full year working with you, remember? There was validity in that. This job… it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. So much is at stake for us, so much has been taken. But I chose to continue because I believed in you, and in our work. We have different methods and come to different conclusions, but we’re working towards the same thing. That’s what I believe.”

He reaches over beneath the cover of the countertop and takes her hand, clasping it atop his knee. They sit in silence for awhile, taking sips of their drinks, palms pressed together.

The truth hides in many places, Mulder is learning. Places more secret and sacred than dusty file folders or abandoned warehouses, more mundane than the locked rooms of the Pentagon or trapped beneath thousands of years of ice. The greatest truths are scattered pieces he stumbles upon every day; reflected in his bathroom mirror, scribbled on post-it notes in their office, hidden under Scully’s warm tongue. He knows he’s an obsessed man, prone to irrationality and impulse; but in quiet moments with his partner, he finds small fragments of peace he never thought he could reach.

“Where are you?” Scully says softly, drawing him back into the present. A dim barroom, a sweating glass, her soft hand in his. He wonders if the day will come when his mind wanders too far for her to follow.

“I-I know how crazy this is going to sound, Scully but bear with me… do you ever think that we’re… that we’re bonded somehow? Like we were always supposed to end up here. Together.”

“Like here, here? In this bar?”

“Maybe. Maybe less specifically this bar and more generally this time and place on earth. This universe, this dimension. With each other.”

She shakes her head gently, smiling. “Mulder, it’s been a long week. If we’re going to talk about the metaphysical I need to either have more to drink or be under the influence of a postcoital surge of oxytocin.”

He leans closer to her. “Do you have a preference as to which, because I’d gladly provide either.”

Scully pushes her half-empty glass away from her, eyes dark and soft. “Take me home, Mulder,” she whispers.

His heart squeezes. “Will you stay?” The night, the rest of our lives, until our boat drifts over the edge of the earth?

She nods, and another piece of the truth slides into place.

[roanniom]

My request is probably so lame lol. But will you please tell us about Valentines Day with Flip? How does he spoil you and make it extra special for you? I’d love it if you could throw in some praise kink and size kink too please!

I love all your writing and you’re so talented! Thank you for entertaining my request! 💛

Hi my lovelies, thanks for your patience with this, seeing as it is coming over a week after Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t 100% I had another Valentine’s story in me after my Clyde and Charlie ones, but I chose to combine these prompts, got a little inspiration today and voila - a sweet and salty Flip one shot was born. Hope you’re cool with me combining and taking a bit from each of these requests! ❤️

Stupid Little Day in February

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 3,890

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex / semi-public sex / unprotected sex, angst in the form of Flip wanting to love up his lady but having work get in the way

Flip had never intended to find himself in this position. He was a perfectionist, giving everything he had and then some in an effort to be successful in all he did – high school sports, his career at the department, his relationships. It’s why he always tries to make time for the boys, being there for Ron whenever he needs help or just someone to bitch to over a beer after work. It’s why he does his best to shower you with love and affection every chance he gets, bringing home little gifts and spending lazy Sundays doing nothing but you. And he thought that, all things considered, he’d been doing a damn good job.

That is until he overheard you on the phone with your friend the other day. You were twirling the coiled cord around your finger while you lounged on the couch laughing and chatting animatedly. He’d walked by and into the kitchen, careful not to disturb you, but as he cracked open a beer he heard something that made his stomach drop.

“Yeah I know I love Valentine’s Day, but Flip hates it so I can be cool with that.”

Flip had left his beer on the counter and moved silently to the doorway, ears straining to hear the rest of the conversation, mind racing to all the times he had, indeed, condemned the holiday of love as a sappy excuse for bad boyfriends to redeem themselves. A day to stimulate the gift industry. You’d laughed and teased him for his soap box routine and grumpy demeanor but you hadn’t argued.

“Besides, I’ve told you. The man gets me flowers like three days a week. He remembers things, like really remembers things. And he listens. I’d trade fancy dinner, red hearts, and chocolate for him any day.”

And though you’d defended him to your friend, your words had stuck with Flip. He wanted to give you the moon, he would if it wasn’t so damn high up. The least he could do was indulge you in something you enjoyed. You did that for him constantly – sitting through football games, hanging with the boys at the bar, listening to country music though you told him that deep inside it made you want to murder the jukebox. You sucked it up and took it with a smile so you could be with him. Flip kicked himself for not being able to do the same with some stupid holiday.

But at the exact moment Flip vowed to right this wrong, the universe seemed to have made a competing vow to ruin all of his efforts. It seemed that the revelation had come to late, being that it was already the night before Valentine’s Day. He was horrified the next morning to find, after a series of tense calls made at his desk hunched over and hushed so none of the other detectives could here, every restaurant in town was booked full. Which ended up being a moot point because the chief demanded he stay late, regardless of how much he gnashed his teeth.

“Everyone with a serious gal already asked for the night off, Zimmerman. It’s too late now. Guess your gal isn’t that serious,” was the only reply he received.

Head in his hands at his desk, Flip flinched when his back received a firm clap.

“Now I know we’re in the contemplating-marriage-territory here with this girl,” Ron said, pulling a seat up and fixing Flip with a concerned look. “What’s all this about not taking time off?”

Flip repeated the conversation that he’d overheard, sure to explain that he had no intention of disappointing you despite your good nature.

“You do realize that this could easily be remedied by a simple call to your woman, right?” Ron asked as Flip massaged the space between his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise her. Calling at this point feels like admitting defeat.”

“Do you hear yourself? ‘Admitting defeat?’ This isn’t some damn battle, it’s a holiday for a fat little baby with wings.”

“Hey, he does have a weapon,” Flip countered, though this time he cracked a smile. Ron laughed heartily.

“Yeah, one that’s been used to shoot you and your little lady enough to kill a small elephant. You guys are pumped so full of the love juice it’s a wonder you’re able to concentrate on anything else.” Ron turned then and flicked the large stack of files on Flip’s desk with a smirk. “Or maybe that’s your problem, Zimmerman.”

Flip shook his head.

“That might be the case for me, but – ”

“Are you seriously about to argue that she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“How the fuck would you know?” Flip asked gruffly. Ron, used to Flip’s gruffness much as you were, plowed right on through.

“Well besides all the dinner parties and barbeques and nights we all go dancing?” Ron raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Patrice, man! You think those women get together and don’t talk about us?”

“Patrice has told you things?” Flip’s whole body tensed and Ron was quick to reassure.

“Calm the fuck down, I don’t want any of your dirty details. All I know is your woman is crazy in love with you. I don’t think some stupid little day in February is going to rock your world as much as you think it will.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Flip conceded, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m always right, you just never listen,” Ron said good-naturedly as he headed back to his desk. Over his shoulder he tossed one final piece of wisdom. “Whatever you do, just call her!”

~*~

And Flip did try to call you. Ten times as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until the sun set out the window and he hung up the phone for the tenth time that he remembered you’d had plans to hang out with your mother today. While that probably should have made him feel better – you had filled your day with plenty of things and probably wouldn’t even notice his failed attempt at romance – he couldn’t help but agonize the fact that it proved you had expected so little of him in the first place.

It’s with this on his mind that Flip buries himself in his paperwork. It’s 8pm and every member of the Colorado Springs police force that hadn’t taken the holiday off is out for a dinner break, Flip having sullenly waved them off so he could sulk in peace. He’s neck-deep in casefiles when he hears the sound of footsteps coming in from the bullpen. It was much too soft to be the tread of any of the beat cops he’d expected to see tonight and Judy, the night shift receptionist, wasn’t due in till later.

“Burning the midnight oil there, detective?”

Flip’s head snaps up at your voice to find you leaning against the doorframe to his office, arms folded casually across your chest, cheeky smile gracing your lips.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Flip asks breathlessly as he makes to stand up. He freezes mid-motion, however, when you hold a hand up.

“Ah ah ah, no need to get up,” you tsk, closing the door with a gentle click and dropping your bag to the floor before making your way over to him. He hesitates but lowers himself back into his seat, eyes trained on your frame slinking toward him. You drop your palms to his desk and hoist yourself up onto it, prowling forward across the surface on your hands and knees toward him. “I heard my man needed some cheering up.”

“You did?” Flip asks, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he leans back in his seat to enjoy what has already been and promises to be quite a show. Legs spread wide and hands gripping the arm rests he hasn’t really even heard what you said. Instead he is focusing every single brain cell on the cleavage that is visible through the red peacoat he’s never seen you wear, chest now slightly exposed as you slowly slide off the scarf you’d used to obscure it.

“Yeah. I heard you wanted to love on me but couldn’t because of work,” you say in a low voice, scooting forward so that one leg dangles off the edge of the desk on the outside of Flip’s left thigh while you place your other foot on the edge of his chair to the right of his other thigh. His gaze flits to the expanse of inner thigh that is now visible to him, your legs bare beneath the peacoat despite the freezing mid-February chill outside. His hand shoots up to smooth over your thigh, warming your skin, just as his brain catches up to your words.

“Now where exactly did you hear that, sugar?” He asks with a small frown. One of your hands reaches out to his shoulder, pulling him in his wheeled office chair closer to you and the desk. The same hand slides down his shoulder to smooth back and forth over the plane of his chest, just as your other hand threads into his hair.

“I can’t go around divulging my secrets,” you say breathily, leaning forward and arresting his lips in a sensuous kiss. You are the first to deepen it, tongue flitting over his lips to beg for entrance before plunging into the depths of his mouth. You kiss him greedily like you’re seeking the breath from his lungs to be the source of your own oxygen. Like the pressure of his lips on yours will warm the late winter cold from your bones. When you slide off the desk and into his lap, straddling his thick denim-clad thighs, Flip moans into the kiss, making you break away with a pleased hum. You relish in the look of his kiss-bruised lips, red and wet from the fervor of your contact. “Maybe cupid dropped by with a little message. Told me to come on down here and drive you wild.”

Flip’s breathing deeply at this point but the new intake of air seems to get the gears moving better in his mind. He frowns.

“And by cupid you mean Ron.”

“Bingo, baby,” you confirm with a smile before pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Don’t be mad at him, though. He told me how you tried to make tonight special for me and that you’d probably bite off the heads of everyone working the night shift if I didn’t make my way down here quick.”

“I set something up. I did what I could, things just kept going wrong…”

“Shhh….” Your kisses migrate from his forehead to his cheek, pressing into his dimples till his frown smooths out and his eyes close again. Only then do you move down to mouth at the column of his throat, pressing your lips to his Adam’s apple. “So how many are there?”

“How many what?” he asks distractedly, eyes still closed.

“Dead bodies of people who had the misfortune to cross paths with my grumpy mountain man?” you ask, the smile clear in your voice though you speak the words into his skin. Flips hands tighten around your hips.

“I’m only grumpy because you deserve the fuckin’ moon and I’m stuck here behind a desk.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed,” you say, angling in his lap so that your lower back leans against the edge of the desk behind you. “I am also behind the desk with you. So maybe it’s not all bad.”

It is at this point that you pop the few buttons at the front of our coat, allowing it to drop open and reveal the gauzy, see-through red negligee you are wearing beneath. It comes down only to the tops of your thighs, but most important of all, you are completely bare beyond the fabric. Your breasts are held in the negligee’s sheer lace cups, nipples hard, and not a scrap of panties obstructs his view of your cunt, evidently glistening from this angle, even through the garment.  

“Sugar.” He intones it soft, deep. It’s a statement. A warning as his eyes slide back up your body to lock on your own hungry stare. “You’re just looking for trouble here.”

With a devious smile you settle forward again, rolling your pelvis this time to rub your heat conspicuously over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“You can punish me later, Flip,” you whisper softly in his ear as you reach down to unbuckle his belt. “When you get home. But for now let me reward you.”

“What’s there to reward me for, darlin’?” Flip asks, helping you rid him of his belt and unfasten the buttons of his Levi’s. He’s not even sure why he’s pressing the matter. You’re here, rubbing your gorgeous body all of his in the middle of his workplace like some fucking fever dream and here he is, practically reminding you of his unworthiness. In some kind of verbal act of self-flagellation.

“Flip Zimmerman,” you chide, even as you pull his half-hard dick out of the opening you’ve made in his pants, careful to keep the rest of his clothing neat. “There’s always something to reward you for.” You begin applying a few measured strokes to his length, squeezing at the base and rolling your wrist to smooth the motion up to his tip.

“Fuck,” Flip grunts quietly, his head dropping to hit the back of the chair.

“This morning you sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal. Last night you handed me that lotion that smells like jasmine when I got out of the shower, the one I love so much.” You kiss his jaw as you say this and let your eye lashes flutter against his cheek in the process.

“Those are little things. Nothing,” Flip argues, still mentally kicking himself for the knee-jerk way he keeps dragging this on. Living in this guilt despite your loving ministrations which suggest you feel exactly the opposite.

“They aren’t little to me,” you say, your tone abruptly serious and your fingers digging into his jaw to keep him looking at you. “You read to me on Sunday afternoons. You take me camping whenever you get time off.”

Your tone returns to its original gentleness and you duck your head so that you can nip at Flip’s earlobe. Your hand continues its steady pace on his cock, thumb swirling around in the precum collecting on his tip.

“You fuck me. Good and hard and slow and fast and every which way I need it.” He’s painfully hard now, both from your hand and from your focused attention on him. From the words falling from your lips. He gazes back at you with blackened eyes and massages the skin of your hips and ass with his large, warm hands. You lick the shell of his ear then, marveling in the way it always turns red and hot, regardless of his confidence, regardless of his dominance. “You meet my needs, Flip, every day. And today is just any old day. So just like you do for me, I’m going to meet your needs, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

You say this as you lift yourself up with the muscles of your thighs and line him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock just as you get to the last few words. Flip immediately mutters a string of hushed curses, fingers digging into your hips through your gauzy negligee so hard you’re already looking forward to the bruises. He breathes through his nose, his labored exhales fanning across your face as you work to adjust to him, eventually swiveling your hips a bit.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours. Your face is screwed up in pleasure-pain and you huff out a laugh.

“No, you’re just fucking huge.” Your statement gets a groan from him and you smirk as you begin to lift yourself up and down on Flip’s cock with his help. Your walls pulse, stroking his cock as your tongue moves on to stroking his ego. “You’re so big, Flip. Too big. I can barely take you.”

“You’re taking me just fine, sugar,” he shakes his head, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you grind into him on a down motion. “So wet. This little pussy takes me so well.”

“You fill me up, Flip. Stuff me – ohhh fuck – stuff me so full I think I might burst.” You reach one hand back to grip the edge of the desk for leverage while your other hand digs into the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh for me you do burst, baby. You burst and gush all over me like the good girl you are,” Flip whispers into your clavicle when you throw your head back, an automatic response to him beginning to aid you by thrust up into your quivering cunt himself. This sounds more like your Flip. Confident and powerful. Pressing all the right buttons to drive you wild. “My good girl.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you admit softly.

“A good girl?”

“Your good girl,” you correct.

“My good girl,” Flip repeats and your pussy clenches around him hard in response. So naturally Flip says it again. “You’re my good girl.”

Your breathing has increased rapidly, spurred on in no small part by the way one of his hands has snaked up to pluck a breast from its lacy confines. His head dips to suck your nipple into his mouth and you hum.

“Who’s good girl are you?” Flip asks into your breasts.

“I’m your good girl.”

You begin ridding him harder, faster. The slick seeping onto his cock around your swollen lips indicates that you’re farther along than he’d expect, a suspicion that you soon confirm with a whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. He’s used to marathon lovemaking. Even a quick fuck in a bathroom stall usually becomes indulgent for you two, trading speed for roughness and lewdness.

“I kind of…got ready before I – ah! – came here.” You bite your lip as you say it and Flip resists the urge to pull your lip out and claim it for himself.

“And by ‘got ready’ you mean…” he prompts, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

“I touched myself,” you admit, no shame in your words. “I touched myself while thinking about my handsome man and his handsome cock and the way it was going to fill me when I came over here.”

Flip grabs one of your hands then, zeroing in on your fingers. All the while he keeps thrusting up into you, feet flat on the floor and muscles rippling throughout his body with the effort.

“Did these fingers rub your little clit?”

“Yes,” you say, still confident. Flip licks a stripe up your index and middle finger, almost as if doing so would allow him to taste remnants of your essence.

“Did you stuff them inside your pussy. Press that little spot inside you like so much?” As he says it he thrusts up and forward, making his cock drag against your front wall in a way that’s got you buckling in on yourself.

“Oh god oh yes. Yes!” You’re trying to remain as quiet as possible but it’s getting harder by the second. The station was empty save for Flip when you’d arrive but soon other people would return. A fact that made your pussy drool all the more on Flip’s throbbing cock.

Flip watches you fall apart in his arms and speeds up the process by sucking on your fingertips, splitting them apart with his tongue and laving each equally. You swallow a moan as he brings your own wetted fingers down to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me,” he breathes, moving forward to kiss your lips. “Show me what I do to you.”

You begin rubbing your clit just as Flip assaults your senses in all other ways. He captures your mouth in a kiss while simultaneously returning to kneading at your breasts with abandon, tugging and squeezing at the pillowy flesh.

“Did you cry out my name in that empty house when you came?” he prompts. You shake your head feverishly, your thighs shaking around him as your climax nears.

“No. I didn’t cum. I saved that for you.”

In a flash of blinding pleasure, you unraveling on top of him, careful to suppress the reaction to little gasps and whimpers instead of the loud praise and guttural moans you would have preferred to let out. The suddenness of your orgasm catches Flip off guard and he is utterly unprepared for the way your walls flutter and pulse, ultimately milking his cock of his own release. You collapse in his arms with a shaky laugh, one he’s only able to reciprocate when the ringing in his ears begin to lessen and his heart stops trying to pound a route out of his chest.

You both revel in the afterglow for a few minutes after, holding each other like you aren’t in his office in the middle of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Like people aren’t about to file in after their dinner break, bellies full and completely unaware of the fact that Flip had just railed you into next February.

After a while, Flip finally pulls out and tucks himself away, once again the picture of professionalism. Or at least, as much the picture of professionalism as Flip cares to appear, what with his eternal flannel and comfortably warm in jeans, the wet patch of your arousal finally fading. He helps you clean up with some napkins he has stashed in a drawer, ultimately bundling you back up in your coat and scarf. You now look sweet and warm again, a stark contrast to the vixen who had crawled across his desk and stripped for him.

Now descent, you settle back into his lap sideways, opting not to straddle him tis time in case someone did finally walk in. You run a finger through the hair at his chin.

“You said earlier you said you’d ended up setting something up for me. What was it?”

Flip blinks at your question for a few seconds before letting out a laugh that ripples from deep in his belly.

“I sent Jimmy and his brother with a box of chocolates over to the house. They were supposed to sing you a Motown duet.”

“I would pay to hear that. When are they supposed to get there?”

“They’re supposed to arrive right now.”

With that you dissolve into a fit of laughter, falling into his chest as you heave from it. Flip’s arms wind around you and tug you tighter to him. And in that moment, he almost believes in this stupid holiday. Almost believes in the cartoon hearts and the fat little winged baby that flies around shooting people. What else could possibly explain the sharp pain radiating from his chest when he looks at you? The ache that dulls as it floods to his extremities, simmering into a warmth that fills him from head to toe? All Flip can think as he smooths his thumb over your smiling lips is that cupid better have a up-to-date permit for that bow of his.  

~*~

Tagging some lovelies <3 (please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @equivocalrabbit @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess

[buckysdolls]

Wine and Whine

One Shot- Thor x Reader

Summary- Requested By @buckybarnes101

Hello! Can I please request a Thor smut with enemies to lovers? Maybe they're all on holiday and Thor and the reader get locked in somewhere? Just fluff and smut really. Thank you x

Warnings- 18+ TURN AWAY NOW!/ Fluff Thor/Smut Thor/ Swearing

AN- Thank you for being my first request! I’m absolutely thrilled to be writing this! I hope you like it?

The team decided to take a break for a few days, destroying Thanos had consumed everyone for the past five years that no one had seriously taken a stress-free environment break for a while. It was your idea, you suggested visiting Wakanda to relax before everyone went off on their separate adventures. Though you loved some of them more than others, you had become a family, one unit and you wanted to hold onto that for a little while longer. Clint’s family, Pepper and Morgan, all came along too. You were able to reflect on fond memories of Nat, Tony and Steve.

You all sat by the roaring fireplace of the cottage T’Challa had provided you with. You looked around soaking in the laughter and chatter that escaped everyone’s lips, a smile forming on your lips. That was until you saw Thor, you quickly regretting bringing Thor along on the trip, you’d always thought he was obnoxious and stroked his ego a little too hard. In the time you’d known him he’d always speak over you or do the tiniest things to annoy you.

Thor did this on purpose, he knew what made you tick, and he got great humour out of annoying you, just like he did with everyone else although he seemed to notice it bother you more. Of course, he did it because he liked you, that was the type of person Thor was. Finding it difficult to be affectionate and put down his walls, he’d rather annoy you and listen to you moan at him than you not speak to him at all.

He was howling away and bragging about him being the one who punished Thanos the most. You rolled your eyes, was this god serious? Could you deny he was amazingly eccentric? No. Could you deny he was extremely charming? No. Could you deny he was devilishly handsome? No. Was he incredibly irritating? Yes!

“Why does it look like your killing Thor with your eyes?” Sam leaned into your ear whispering. You’d obviously been staring at him for too long if Sam had noticed. You rolled your head back with a huff.

“He’s annoying Sam, his voice is too loud” You pouted letting your eyes fall on Thor again.

“I think someone has a crush” Sam elongated the word crush teasing whilst gently shaking you. You rolled in your lips trying to hide your laughter.

“I don’t not have a crush on him okay Sam. He maybe charming and a spicy specimen but…no” You didn’t even know how to finish that sentence; you’d just kept giving him compliments explaining how attractive you thought he was.

“Besides, you can find someone attractive and not like their personality Sam!” You hushed him turning your evils to him. Sam nodded his head puling a funny face to mock you. You sneered at him returning the funny face.

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Rhodes spoke up.

“Well…” You watched Sam sit up in is seat, adjust an upright posture, cross his knee over and clasp his hands together.

“I do believe Y/N fancies-“

“Wine... I fancy some wine!” You jumped up from the floor interrupting Sam, faking a smile. Feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks you composed yourself as everyone looked at you.

“Sounds like a good idea! I could go for another beer” Thor raised his glass at you requesting another knowing it would wind you up. You looked over at him, he was wearing his cheesy grin. You scoffed raising your eyebrows…you were not his god damn servant.

“Get one yourself Thor.” Quickly turning on your heels you walked past Sam, flicking his head on the way out of the living room calling him a ‘douchebag.’ You heard the heavy footsteps that you identified as Thor’s following you. All the alcohol was kept in the basement which is where you and Thor headed for. Swinging the door wide enough for Thor to enter you listened to the door shut behind you.

“Fancy wine huh?” Thor questioned leaning his body weight against a rack of wine. You looked at him reaching for a bottle wine on the exact rack he had leaned on. You stood on your tip toes, your body inches away from his. You concentrated on grabbing the bottle.

“Uh-huh”

You felt his breathing tickle your skin as he towered over you, unknowingly you laid you free hand on his chest, steadying yourself as you finally gripped the bottle and lifted it up. You looked at your hand and slowly looked up to meet Thor’s eyes, his smirk was gone and his face  was relaxed and gentle as he searched into your eyes. His hand settled on your back pulling you closer to him. You wet your lips which suddenly began to felt dry. Was Thor going to kiss you? Nah, you awkwardly coughed and stepped out from Thor’s touch.

“How’s your day been?” Thor asked quickly trying to override the awkwardness.

“G--good” Your words fumbled as you tried to compose your beating heart and the flutters that you felt in your panties.

“Good” Thor repeated not actually knowing what to say, before you could walk up the stairs to reach for handle of the door you heard it lock. In sync you both moved your heads to the door upon hearing the click.

“Have fun you two” You heard Sam’s voice snigger as his footsteps disappeared from ear shot.

“No no no no no” You mumbled, placing your wine bottle down, rushing up the stone stairs and fiddling with the doorknob. You sized Thor up demanding he opened the door.

“You have superpowers. Open it!”

“Maybe I don’t want to open it?” Thor closed the gap between you, you felt as though the air was being sucked from around you.

“Please just open it” The words escaped your mouth so quick you weren’t sure it was even English, Thor grinned, enjoying watching you get nervous.

“Are you nervous around me Y/N?”

“Pffft, no. You’re so annoying and”

Thor cut you off crashing his lips onto yours, he was getting impatient at you and didn’t want to listen to you stumble over your words anymore. You melted into the kiss, after letting it go on. You were surprised you hadn’t pushed him away. Thor placed his arm under you bum gesturing for you to jump up. The kiss was lustful as you jumped wrapping your legs around his lower waist feeling his cock hard. He stumbled as you carried on kissing, his teeth pulled at your bottom lip wanting to explore, pushing you against a wall you clung onto him, your hands wrapped around his neck gripping and pulling on his long dreadlocks, he growled into the kiss and smiled enjoying you pulling on him. He freed one of his hands whilst the other kept you up against him, you felt him move your panties to one side and gently stroked your clit testing the water. You gasped at Thor’s advances; he took your moans as a ‘please carry on.’ Thor inserted his fingers inside you, your gasps getting louder as his fingers increased with speed.

“Fuck Thor” You cried out burying your head into his neck squirming, relishing in the pleasure he was giving you.

“That feel good huh?” Thor grinned as he looked down at your head stuffed into shoulder, you managed to mumble a ‘yeah’ and nod your head to answer him. A few seconds later you realised he’d stopped and was using his hand to unbuckle his belt and expose his cock, you felt it hit your walls. Your insides turned squishy knowing you were just about to get fucked by Thor. He looked deep into your eyes affectionately brushing the knotted hairs that hung over your face letting his hand settle on your neck and his thumb on your cheek. He smiled once more placing the most tender kiss on your lips. The tenderness of the kiss felt real, you felt as if your lips matched together perfectly. He wasn’t hungry in this kiss he was loving and soft. He slowly inserted himself into you, you wailed his name as every thrust had you craving more. The concrete wall began rubbing you skin as his thrusts got harder and faster.

“Thor!”

“Be quiet” He demanded sniggering, as much as he loved hearing you, whine for him you’d completely forgotten the group of people not too far way. You bit down onto his shoulder to control your moans. Before you knew it Thor had you cumming, he slowed down as he listened to you cum for him. Thor set you down from the wall and around him. Your legs gave way wobbling, luckily Thor caught you before you could meet the floor.

“You okay?” He smirked, the smirk that used to make you cringe inside now made you feel weak. You thinned your lips and pointed your finger at him.

“1 minute” You said catching your breath and regaining your composure.

“Mhm, I’m good”

Thor engulfed you in a hug, you let your head lay on his chest as he rubbed your back lovingly.  It would be a few minutes before Sam would open the door. You quickly pulled away from Thor and picked up your bottle of wine heading straight up the steps leading to the open door with Sam leaning on it.

“You get your wine?”

You waved it in Sam’s face as you walked through the door highlighting that you definitely got your wine.

[arminbitchlover]

reincarnated lovers (2)

armin arlert x f! reader

summary: after a terrible first date with armin, sasha convices reader to go out to a party but only to have an unexpected turn of events

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol use, assault is insinuated but doesn't actually happen

"YOU LOOK SOOO GOOD," Sasha squeals as you show her your outfit, making your confidence boost significantly.

"YOU TOO, YOU'RE SO HOT FOR NO REASON!" You both keep showering each other with confidence, not caring if your neighbors could hear you shouting.

You don't understand why you're suddenly filled with anticipation to go to some frat house that would be filled with strangers and smell like alcohol and weed, but you not troubled enough to even question it. All you know is that this is your first party as a freshman, and you want to make the most out of it with your best friend.

"So, who's going that you know anyways?" You glance at Sasha through your mirror as you apply lip gloss.

"Too many to count honestly and not to alarm you or anything but Jean will be there too." Sasha reluctantly spoke as you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

You completely forgot that Jean was a part of Sasha's friend group and now you're going to see him for the very first time since your breakup.

"Y/n?" Sasha waves her hand in front of your face and snaps you out of your deep thoughts.

"Sorry, but thanks for telling me." You shake your head as you try to not lose your train of thought again.

You and Sasha finish up on your final touches and make your way to the party as you feel your stomach flipping and hands slightly shake. Every time you start to tell yourself that Jean was just a friend now, you get flashbacks of everything you did as a couple, but you're going to let some guy ruin your first night out in college.

It doesn't take long to arrive and fuck, it didn't take long for the feelings of regret, nervousness, and panic to sink in. When you first arrive, people were already drunk in the front yard as couples made out the staircase leading to the front door. Immediately when opening the door, the bass from the speakers maakes your whole body vibrate with the music and your eyes strain from all the lights that were being cast across the house.

The whole place is already trashed with cups, plates, and different articles of clothing are scattered across the floor. You've always heard about how wild college parties can be, but you didn't expect something as crazed as this.

You turn to Sasha and see her talking to you but could only read her lips that make out, "I'm... drink," and walk away to the kitchen.

Well, shit.

You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, not recognizing a single person until you feel a hand clasp your shoulder and pull you to a corner.

"Heya, gorgeousss, name's Flochhh..." A drunk man with auburn hair presses you against the wall as he tries to make conversation with you.

"S-Sorry, but I have to go." You try to get away from him only to have your arm get pulled back to the wall.

"Fucking let me go!" You fight to yank your arm away but don't have enough strength to succeed.

"Buttt I wantss to get chu know you babyyy." He leans in, trying to get your faces closer together, but luckily you dodge him quick enough to get out of his grasp.

"Watchu doinn- runninnn from me." He grasps your hand, but right when you were about to get pinned back against the wall again, you hear a stern voice.

"Get your hands off of her." You and Floch turn and see Armin, but this time with slightly smudged eyeliner with a long black sleeve that's complemented with a necklace and silver rings on both of his hands.

"Huhhh-," Floch slurs, finally letting go of you and confronting Armin.

Armin takes a step back with his hands in his pockets, not wanting to cause any issues, and lightly asserts, "This is my lovely girlfriend, so I would appreciate it if you would just back off, that's all."

Armin walkes up to you and wraps his arm around your waist as Floch's face becomes filled with complete disgust.

"So if you'll excuse us, we'll be getting out of your way so you can get as shitfaced as you like." He smirks at Floch and pulls you away, his hand still clutching your waist.

As he takes you away, you immediately notice how his arm feels so natural around you, like it was meant to be there which causes your heartbeat to quicken.

You only see him as the boy you went on an awkward date with, why did he suddenly make you feel this way?

"Thank you for your help, Armin." You bring your hand to the one that was resting on your waist and squeeze it to show your gratitude.

"I was only doing the bare minimum, no need to thank me." He tenderly looks into your eyes with compassion, not aware that he never let go of your waist.

"Well, what were you doing here anyway, you didn't catch me as the party type." You playfully joke as he grabs your arm and enters a large crowd that's dancing to music.

He turns to face you and tilts his head towards your ear to answer, "I heard you were coming, and I wanted to talk to you."

He grabs you by the waist and starts moving to the beat of the song to follow along with everyone surrounding you.

You feel your face start to heat up, finding it so attractive the way he leaned in to talk to you. He's a completely different person from the guy you went out with. This time he seems so much more confident by the way he holds you, speaks to you, and his fashion did a complete 180.

"Well, what's up?" You gain enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and move your body with his.

You both move completely in sync forgetting for a second that you weren't the only two people in the room. You feel yourself start to get more butterflies as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly pulls you closer and closer. Before you know it, you have the biggest smile on your face as you have the time of your life with Armin.

This is what you've been missing out on, while you had been locked up in your dorm, exhausting yourself with no sign of ending. While Sasha's the one who made you come out of your comfort zone, Armin's the one who making you enjoy yourself the most and you love the idea of that. You love knowing that there's a person who could actually make you a better person and still make you feel comfortable while being alone with him.

"I don't really know how to explain this, but-"

"Y/N!!" Sasha pushes her way into the crowd and finds you and Armin with your bodies only centimeters apart, but seemingly didn't notice the tension between the two of you.

"Armin, I told you to find her and come to the game room!" She scolds Armin and pulls him away from you, making you feel a bit upset that you're not able to be alone with him a bit longer.

She takes you and Armin to another room that you assume were their friends because as soon as they enter, they're greeted with open arms. You immediately notice a small blonde girl and a tall brunette with freckles sitting together on a love seat and you have to admit that they make such a great couple. Sasha introduces you to everyone in the room and while it was pretty packed, it's easy to memorize who everyone is given that Sasha has mentioned them many times before.

Before you had the chance to settle in with everyone you see Connie get out of his seat and clear his throat very loudly to make an announcement.

"I think that it's only fair, since y/n is the newbie of the group, to play a 2v2 intense game of beer pong between me and Jean." Connie widely grins as everyone agrees and starts rioting.

"I heard my name." Jean abruptly enters, at first not noticing that you're in the same room.

"Well, I don't have a partner to play with so-" You feel a bit of shame while speaking but are quickly interrupted.

"I'll play with y/n," Armin speaks up and everyone gets louder, becoming enraptured as if this is the biggest game in history.

"Let's fucking go then." Jean locks eyes with you for a split second before talking to Connie.

You have to admit, while Jean looks like he's taking good care of himself, you don't feel the butterflies and tension that you thought you would. Maybe you're just overthinking everything because he's your first love, but you figure that maybe something would be left for him. You look back at Jean making sure you don't feel anything, but when you turn to face Armin. Butterflies. Even if it was just a tiny bit, something was there.

For him.

"You guys got this, I mean no offense to the other two, but they're either high, tipsy, or a bit of both." Eren walks up to you two as he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

"I've never played this before, so we'll see." You look down, afraid that Eren or Armin would judge you in some way.

"Neither has Armin, he always watches other people play, but I'm pretty surprised he volunteered himself. So, I'm guessing that your first date went pretty well today." Eren playfully nudges Armin as his face turns into a very light pink.

"Um, yeah it was pretty alright," You reply and smile at Armin, even though you both knew that your date was anything but 'alright'.

"Okay, it's set up, you guys can start whenever," Mikasa speaks with a complete monotone voice as she takes a seat back down next to Historia and Ymir.

You and Armin walk to your side of the table as Connie and Jean do the same, while everyone stands around the two teams ready to start their ear-piercing shouts. You start to feel a bit of pressure right before the game started, anxious that you'll make yourself look like a fool if you don't at least make a single cup.

"We'll give Armin the first shot." Connie cockily smirks and bounces the ping pong ball across the table.

Armin grabs the ball with his fingertips and starts calculating the way he would throw the ball. You have to admit, he looked absolutely adorable while concentrating on making it into the cup. You figure that maybe he thinks the same as you, not wanting to embarrass himself, but he looks so relaxed at the same time. After a few more seconds of critical thinking, he carefully throws the ball and makes it perfectly into the middle cup.

Expectedly, everyone starts screaming, jumping up and down, while some people grab Armin and shake him profusely as their excitement shoots through the roof. You can't help but feel thrilled for him as well, and right when his friends get their hands off of Armin, you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him in for a tight hug. You immediately pull away, unsure if he's uncomfortable being hugged by someone he barely knows, but when you take a step back you see his eyes light up with a small smile.

"Cut it out, love birds. It's my shot," Jean shoots Armin a snarky look and chugs the shot. He wasn't concentrating as much as Armin was, probably because he's played this game many times before, and to your surprise, he recklessly tosses the ball and makes a spiral dunk into the cup at the front of the formation.

"GOOD SHIT, JEAN!" Connie aggressively smacks Jean's back, causing him to jump forward and knock down two cups in the back row.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Connie?" Jean hits the back of Connie's head and they both drink whatever liquid was left in the cup and takes them out of the formation.

You look at the cup that has the ball in and right when you're about to take the shot, Armin swiftly takes it out of your grasp and drinks it as if it's water.

At this point, everyone was making fun of Connie's fuck up and cheering on Armin for chugging the shot like nothing while you're panicking in your thoughts, begging yourself not to make a foot out of yourself.

"Here." Armin hands you the ball and you feel your anxiety kick in as everyone's focus goes directly to you.

You feel your fingertips lightly quiver as you begin to aim the ball into the last cup in the back. Predictably, the ball hits the rim of the cup and doesn't make it in, but Armin still whispers to you a few words of encouragement as Marco picks up the ball from the floor and hands it to Connie. The game continues and luckily you and Armin win because of the two cups Jean knocked down, so while you and Armin are a bit tipsy, the others are completely plastered.

"This... nngh - bullshizz..." Connie clumsily walks over to you and hooks his arm around your neck, somewhat pulling you down while speaking to you.

"Alright, enough." Armin pulls Connie's arm away from you and takes you out of the room, before getting the chance to say bye to anyone.

"Armin-" He leads you to an empty room and doesn't hesitate to lock the door behind him.

"Please, let me talk, I've been waiting all night." Armin pulls you to the edge of the bed and slowly sits down as he tries to figure out how to come out with his news. You gently place your hand on top of his and give it a gentle squeeze, reassuring him.

While you did have a feeling about what he'a going to say, you don't want to jinx anything too good to be true. Even though when you first met Armin it wasn't the greatest first impression, spending time with him at the party made you realize that he's so much more than the awkward guy you went out with. You don't understand how your feelings for him switched up so fast in a matter of a day, but you don't care. At this point, Jean's completely out of the picture and something in you is telling yourself that there's something really special about Armin.

“So, um basically I just want to apologize for everything that happened earlier at the café. I-It’s just that you’re the first girl I’ve ever taken out and I didn’t want to fuck up, but I did absolutely everything wrong. It didn’t help how Sasha was talking so highly of you and god, when I saw your pictures, I thought you were the most perfect person I ever laid my eyes on. Then when I saw you, something in me just clicked that you were meant to be mine and I’m not one to believe in that love at first sight bullshit, so I didn’t know what to do. I just nervous and I didn't know what to do. I knew you were and still are way out of my league even though I felt like you were my person, but I didn't want to mess it up, so I tried to be distant to make it go away and I realized how fucking stupid that was. I'm so sorry for wasting your time and I was hoping we could have a second chance at a first date again to make it up to you." He has such a pained but relieved look on his face when he finishes talking, not looking at you, afraid that he may have done something that he would regret.

"I would actually love that, Armin." You exchange smiles and both stare at each other for a second in comfortable silence.

"Well, let's go then."He stands up and brings out his hand to yours.

"Wait what?" You give him a confused look as you place your hand in his and get up from the bed.

"Are you tired or something?" He furrows his eyebrows with a bit of a pouty face.

"No, not at all." You intertwine your fingers with his and make your way out of the frat house, forgetting say goodbye to anyone.

"So, where are you taking me so late at night?" You ask and turn to look at him to see a small smile plaster on his face.

"I was hoping I could take you back to my apartment to make us a proper meal after all that partying." You feel your heart pounding against your chest as he has the most genuine look in his eyes.

"Absolutely."

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[ayellowcurtain]

sobbe based off of the weeknds song save your tears kind of angst + fluff

Sander walks around the party, not really interested in it. He just wanted to walk around, hoping he would run into his boyfriend, trusting the universe he so blindly believes works its magic for Sander too, making them meet without planning on it.

They haven’t talked all week but Yasmina told him Robbe is better, still confused but less confident that what she saw last Saturday morning was Sander doing a walk of shame.

He didn’t want to bother Robbe with his problems, he already deals with parts of it when Sander is having an episode so Sander wanted to find his own place by himself to surprise Robbe. A place they would have more privacy, and more freedom to do whatever they wanted, whenever they felt like it.

As he was walking out of his friend’s bedroom, he ran into Yasmina. He didn’t plan on staying there the whole night, but he was extremely happy to have found a place, where he wouldn’t have to worry about people being scared of him because they all knew him from college. So they knew he could have episodes and they wouldn’t hold it against him. And he wanted to celebrate and then it got too late, he got a little too tipsy to be able to go home and fake being sober to his parents. So he stayed and was about to walk home when Yasmina saw him, still disheveled from sleeping on the floor, drunk out of his mind for once.

The universe does find its way, Sander thinks as he recognizes the small group of loud boys. They’re not even loud, Sander can’t hear them from here but they’re loud with their presences, their need to talk and use their hands and push each other's body language.

Maybe he’s standing too outside of any group because Robbe spots him right away like their eyes are trained to find each other anywhere. And Jens finds him too a second later, probably noticing how his friend stopped talking all of a sudden, following his eyes to find whoever he’s looking at.

Sander turns back around but doesn’t leave right away. Yasmina texted him the other day, said that Robbe would want to hear his own explanation, no matter how much she had already explained to him what Sander had explained to her once he left, leaving her and Younes to talk. Even with his explanation through Yasmina, Sander can feel how hurt Robbe is even when they’re this far away, without properly talking for almost a whole week.

Someone stops next to him and Sander recognizes the tall, skinny figure so he starts explaining himself already, turning around to look at Jens, not feeling like dealing with him for long.

“He misunderstood everything but I shouldn’t have lied.” He checks again, and Robbe is pretending to not care about their conversation, drinking his beer, nodding his head to whatever Moyo is saying. "I made a bigger mess than what it was.”

None of it matters when it’s not Robbe hearing, but he feels the need to explain again, hoping his words will find their way to Robbe through another person that he trusts blindly. Sander tries to walk away, to leave Robbe be, but Jens stumbles to stand on his way and stop him. Maybe Robbe asked him to come here and talk. That’s why Sander doesn’t start an argument, just looks at Jens.

“C’mon, bro! You’re doing it again, you’re making a bigger mess. Just go fucking talk to him!”

He doesn’t feel like it, not at a party, late at night, with everyone clearly knowing about their fight but Robbe is there, watching him from across the room again, looking like he’s about to cry and Sander can’t let him be that upset for one more night. The walk to him with Jens following like a body guard feels like the real walk of shame. He notices Aaron choking on his beer and Moyo staring from him to Robbe.

“I need to smoke something. Anyone with me?” Jens asks and doesn’t wait for an answer, putting his hand on Aaron’s neck to drag him away and Moyo goes with them.

Once the other are acrss the room, Sander and Robbe just stand there, facing each other, not sure what to say or how to start a conversation.

“Did you ever think I would cheat on you?” Sander has to ask because he can’t believe Robbe would stay a whole week without talking to him, basing himself on a thing his friend saw for a minute that would lead him to think that. Robbe tries to walk away to follow the boys, and Sander steps aside to stop him like Jen did to him. “Answer me, Robbe.”

“No, never. But it’s different when a friend sees you walking out of someone else’s bedroom early in the morning and I didn’t know where you were.”

“I didn’t know I had to tell you every step I took.” He tries to make it lighter but Robbe doesn’t like it. At least he doesn’t try to walk away this time. “It was an accident, I drank too much, and couldn’t even remember I had a phone.”

Sander watches him, Robbe drinking his beer, distracted, pushing the back of his hand against his eyes, clearly tired, with irritated eyes of someone that cried a lot or didn’t sleep enough. He steps closer, as deep inside Robbe’s personal space as possible, noticing how Robbe relaxes, how he follows his gaze like he can’t look anywhere else.

“I wanted a place for us. To be with you. Just you and me, and nobody else.” He carefully wraps his fingers around the belt holes in Robbe’s loose jeans, keeping him close.

“So you’re not attracted to him? You’re not spending your every free minute with a guy that’s not me?”

Sander snorts and shakes his head. If they were okay, he would find the jealousy attractive and exhilarating but he keeps those feelings at bay, trying to reassure Robbe as best as he can while still bothered by the long week that went by like this, with Robbe being as cold as his warm personality lets him be to Sander.

“I’m not attracted to anyone that’s not you. I spent the time I needed to get that bedroom for us. My free time is all yours and if we’re not together, I swear I’m thinking about us.”

Sander carefully holds Robbe’s bottle, letting their fingers touch for half a second, taking his beer away, putting behind him in hopes Robbe will give him his full attention now.

“How was it? Getting drunk with your friends?”

Sander kisses him for an answer because Robbe is too cute when he’s trying to be mean. His attempt at being passive agressive makes him look even cuter. He doesn’t push Sander away, but doesn’t last the quick kiss last either. Sander rest his forehead against Robbe’s, putting one curl behind his ear.

“It’s more fun with it’s with you.”

Robbe pushes him away with no strenght. “Yeah, right.”

-

Sander smiles, quietly holding what he can of Robbe’s shirt, still carefully pushing him back until Robbe hits the bed behind him, smiling, looking over his shoulder but they’ll have time for Sander to show him around later. He went on and on about how they have a queen size bed now and he’s anxious to test if it’s any better than a regular one.

“This bed, cutie...is the best bed ever.” Sander pushes Robbe and he lets himself fall on the bed, all the white, fluffy sheets and heavy blankets in contrast with his dark clothes and hair. “They say the walls are tick here…” Sander looks around even though the boys did knock on the walls while they were all waking inside the bedroom, showing him the place. “It seems like it. So we can, please, please, be as loud as possible.”

Robbe laughs shyly, sitting up to take his socks off, leaving it to fall on the floor as he puts his feet up, pushing himself back on the bed, looking around again while Sander puts their things on the long desk underneath his window.

“It seems nice.”

Sander sighs, looking at Robbe, still a little too quiet and a hint of too cold.

“It’s a lot nicer when I can finally bring you here.”

“I won’t bother you too much, I promise.” Robbe adjusts the pillow on the side of the bed he usually sleeps in. Sander crawls to lie next to him, pulling Robbe closer by his waist.

“Don’t say that. I want you to come here every day, for you to sleep here every night, all tangled with me.”

Robbe sighs, finally putting one arm to rest around Sander’s neck.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head, kissing Robbe’s jaw, smiling when he smiles, closing his eyes slowly while pulling the sheets to cover them completely.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 8)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut, swearing, underage drinking, drugs 

Part Summary: Y/N must attend the dinner her parents planned. After, she and Topper attend Kelce’s party. 

A/N: not proof read bc school is life rn but I wanna keep updating. ALSO DANG TOPPER IS SPICY IN THIS!!!!

Masterlist

Your dad hands the keys over to the valet as the other Club worker opens your car door and offers you his hand. You accept, slipping out of the SUV gracefully. Rhett meets you, offering you his arm for which you take and follow him inside. 

"I can't breathe," you inhale shapely. 

"Hot?" Your brother guesses as he buttons up his blazer. 

"No, this satin dress doesn't give at all and Mom made me get a size smaller because she thought it made me look thinner," you grumble, tugging at the unforgiving fabric. 

"She's probably just trying to punish you because of the whole diabolical with Crystal," he points out. 

"Oh, I know she is, she hates that some of her and Dad's friends saw it. They wouldn't shut up about it when I got home," you whisper between the two of you as you cross the threshold into the Club. 

You stop in the lobby with your parents a few feet ahead at the hostess podium with Sarah's parents and Topper's mom. You spot Rafe at the bar with a scotch in hand, Sarah nowhere to be seen. If she managed to get out of this dinner you'll be royally pissed, mainly jealous. 

"Where were you last night anyway?" Rhett’s brows scrunch together. 

"After Topper dropped me off I went over to Sarah's," you lie without a hint of hesitation. 

"What?" He frowns in confusion. "But after lunch Rafe, Kelce, and I went back to his house? Rafe said Sarah was with that John B kid.” 

"Yeah, I picked Sarah up before you guys got there and we hung out for a little bit. After, I dropped her off at John B's," you conjure up as you go. 

"So then where did you sleep?" Rhett inquires, pressing further. 

"On Mars, Rhett!” You snap, much to your brother’s surprise. “Jesus, Mary, and the damn camel," you curse under your breath. 

"Why do you swear all of a sudden? It's not polite, especially in this setting," he hisses between his teeth, checking around for any prying eyes. 

"Because maybe I've lost my marbles or PMSing, you pick," you bite back quietly. 

"Whatever, I'm going to go grab a drink," he huffs, holding his hands up in surrender. "You should do the same," he suggests before disappearing toward the bar and lounge. 

You linger in your spot, observing your fellow Kooks go about their business in their fancy dinner attire. You honestly wonder if some of them ever leave the Club or if they keep closets in the locker rooms. 

“One gin and tonic,” Topper announces as he appears beside you with two glasses. 

“God, I love you," you mumble, taking the drink from him and immediately taking a sip. 

He rubs his hand up and down your bare arm. “You seem tense." 

“I’m practically in a corset!" You roll your eyes. 

“You look amazing,” he compliments with a charming smile. 

“Thanks...” You sigh, unsure of where you two stand. 

After this afternoon, after... well... everything said, you don't know the dynamic between you and Topper. Despite the uncertainty, you still depend on him to get you through this dinner. You feel as though your only friends at the table are Topper and Sarah, and even those two don't like each other. 

“Geez Topper...” You huff in disapproval. 

“Sorry! But you gotta admit it’s not exactly the Four Seasons...” He chuckles. 

“Hey Y/N!” Sarah greets, appearing from the bathroom. “Where did you get here?”

“Minutes ago and I’m already over it,” you grumble.

“If you need a ride to John B’s, he’s picking me up after,” she offers.

You exhale deeply, glancing between her and Topper, unsure of what to say. Yes, you have plans with JJ, but you also aren’t confident in speaking about it in front of Topper.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I might want to run home first or something,” you satisfy her and remain vague.

“Topper! Y/N! Sarah!” Your dad waves you guys over as the hostess prepares to seat you all. 

“I’ll see you guys out there, I’m going to grab a drink!” Sarah announces before dismissing herself. 

You and Topper begin toward the doors leading out to the patio, a few yards behind your families. 

“Kelce is after a party later, would you maybe wanna come with me?” Topper offers with a smirk.

“I’m supposed to..." You catch yourself before you mention JJ. "Maybe for a little bit.”

“You’re supposed to meet him?” Topper predicts correctly, making you awkwardly take a sip of your drink and avoid his gaze. “Maybe if you drink enough you’ll start seeing two and The Cut wouldn’t look like utter shit," Topper insults passive-aggressively.  

“I’ll come and have a drink, but that’s all!" You agree to go with Topper to the Kelce's reluctantly. "I don’t want anything that Rafe has up his sleeve.” 

“Noted," Topper gives you a reassuring smile.

"Wait," you halt, giving Topper's arm a slight squeeze. You feel the overwhelming need to speak with Topper for a second before you all gather around a table like one big interconnected family. "Do you know?”

“About what?” The boy frowns in confusion. You glance over at your family anxiously, watching everyone disappear onto the patio outside. Topper takes your hand in his and turns to you. “Y/N, what is it?” 

“That our parents practically have the wedding favors picked out," you rush out nervously, unable to fully believe that this is your reality. 

Topper exhales deeply, his eyes falling to the floor. He does know. “My mom has made some interesting passive comments lately," he nods. "I suspected but I wasn’t positive.” 

“My mom spoke to me before we got here," you describe, checking around the room for any eavesdroppers. "She wanted me to gloat, hang on you, and basically show the Camerons that we’re... I don’t even know...” You shake your head frantically. 

“Together,” Topper finishes your sentence. 

“It sounds so ancient but ‘promised to each other,’" you explain in greater detail. "It’s insane! I mean, we’re only in high school!” 

"You don’t have to do anything!” He comes up with a game plan to get you both through the evening. “Let’s just continue as we have been. They’ll be satisfied and we won’t be losing our willpower.” 

“Okay,” you swallow hard with a faint nod. 

“It’ll be okay," Topper reaches up and cups your cheek comfortingly, peering into your eyes. He leans forward, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

__________________________________

Well into the evening, Kelce's house is packed to the brim with teenage Kooks and some tourons that snuck their way in. Music blasts from the speakers in the ceiling and water from the pool are scattered across the tile living room. Everyone's in their bathing suits, traveling in and out of the water. Cups litter the floor and various conversations overwhelm the ears. On the balcony, you find yourself leaning against the railing watching people jump off the roof into the pool below as Topper does lines with Rafe on the coffee table just a few feet away. Your bare stomach exposed by your bikini presses against the cool glass railing, keeping you awake. 

"Come on, Princess!" Rafe waves you over, overtly intoxicated. "Got enough for you!" 

“I don’t want anything Rafe!” You remind him. 

“You will," he chuckles, not believing you for a second. "Once you start drinking you always do. You could just skip the innocent act and let yourself go.” 

Topper rises from his seated position and walks over to join you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as he leans against the rail. He sniffs a few times, making sure all of the coke remains inside. 

“One more drink and we’re leaving,” you tell Topper quietly between the two of you. 

"I know," he nods, planting a kiss on your temple. “We’ll go.” 

You turn toward, peering down at the people as they mess around in the pool. Topper stands behind you, his arms gripping the railing on either side of you. His chest presses to your back as he leans down and plants a kiss to your neck. You tilt your head to the side, granting him better access, causing him to smile against your skin. You’re not sure why you get this way with him when you drink. You’ve thought it over a million times over the years. Is it because it’s what you soberly want but are too afraid to admit? Or, is it because it’s a way to let go? Either way, you and Topper become insufferable whenever you two get too deep, which why you refuse to do anything. If you get any deeper... well... Bermuda is a prime example. 

1 hour later.... 

The drinks slip by you and you quickly lose track of the number. Tequila shots, margarita mix, gin, and coke, everything's mixed. The music has become louder, the colored lights have become brighter, your senses are doing their best to remain active, but your mind is fading. You love this feeling, not having a care in the world. The weight that your parents have placed on your shoulders has long disappeared. Half an hour ago, you and Topper were sharing a joint with Kelce on the roof and now you two are caught in a beer pong tournament.You're slowly starting to lose interest in the game, eager to jump off the roof into the pool as you've seen daredevils do all night. 

"Come on, Top! Please!" You tug on the boy's arm, pleading with him again to jump off the roof with you. 

He does his best to focus on the game at hand, the ball in his hand to take a shot. He squeezes your hand and brings it to his lips for a quick peck. "One second, Baby." 

Drunkenly, you rest your forehead against his bicep, waiting for him to take his shot. Topper tosses the ball, making it into the final cup and the rules call for no redemption. 

“We win!” Topper cheers, causing you to lift your head. Again! The champions!” 

“Woohoo!” You giggle, raising your cup in the air.

Topper wraps his arms around your waist and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he spins you. He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jawline as he peers up at you. Staring into his eyes, you two are so immersed in each other that you get carried away and your lips meet. Neither of you is in the right mind to comprehend it, but this is a pattern. You two get intoxicated on a mixture of alcohol and drugs and your natural touchy friendship gets an intensity boost. 

Kelce whistles at the sight of you, urging you guys on. “They act like they’re not together, then they do that!” He not so well whispers to Rafe. 

"Same shit, different night," Rafe grumbles, clearly jealous. He silently wishes he was Topper. He would give anything to have a chance with you. “I wonder how Rhett would feel learning his sister is a slut for his best friend.” 

Kelce shoves him on the shoulder. “Don’t be an ass. Besides, Rhett knows Topper has a thing for her.” 

“But does Y/N have a thing for him or is it just sex?” Rhett challenges, watching you two and hating it. 

Topper lets you down as your lips part. His hands slip down your waist to rest on your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You bite down on your lower lip, your attention on Topper's smirk.  

“Hey Top!" Rafe pulls Topper's attention and tosses him a metal canister. "For you my friend!" 

Topper pops open the old Altoids container to reveal a pile of color tabs. "Aw no," Topper laughs, tossing his head back. 

“Woah woah woah!" You place your hand over Topper's before has the chance to even think about taking anything. You glare at Rafe, "what is that?” 

“Candy,” Rafe snickers sarcastically. He rises from his seat position and stands before you, taking the tin from Topper. “Here take one," the boy offers with raised brows.  

You push the container back to Rafe. “No, I said I didn’t want to do anything tonight!” 

Beside you, Topper reaches into the container, selects a square piece carefully with the provided tweezers, and places the rainbow paper on his tongue. 

“Try it, Princess,” Rafe pressures with a smirk. 

You glance between Rafe and Topper. The blonde gives you a wink. "You'll feel good," he assures you, rubbing his hand up and down your spine slowly. 

You think it over for a second to the best of your ability. You said you wouldn't do anything hard tonight, but you also don't want to sober up anytime soon. You feel too good. You wish you felt this way all the time. You love yourself when you're carefree. On a whim, you give in and pick up the tweezers to select a piece. You place the bit on your tongue, earning a mischievous smirk from Rafe and words from approval from Topper. You don't know much about what Rafe does, but you know from watching that it takes a while for stuff like this to kick in, so you wait. 

Thirty minutes later... 

After taking swim minutes ago, you and Topper seek some privacy away from the party antics to dry off. You two travel up to the third floor of the house in the dark, this part of the house practically untouched by the people below. You shuffle along the floor in the hall in search of the balcony. You nearly trip of the runner, but Topper catches you by the waist. 

“Oh shit!” You gasp. Abruptly, Topper squats down and tucks his arm under your legs. You fly up and he begins to carry you bridal style. “Topper!” You giggle. 

“Like a proper princess, let me carry you up the tower!” He jokes. 

“You’re ridiculous!” You laugh as Topper navigates his way through Kelce's room toward the screen door leading outside. 

You tilt your head back, letting your hair flow as Topper carries you out onto the balcony. The night breeze and salty scent of the ocean fill your senses. Whatever Rafe gave you is immaculate. You've never felt so connected to the world before. Suddenly, Topper releases you, letting you fall onto one of those massive round loungers with a squeal. You lay back onto the lounger, pondering the sensation of the soft fabric beneath you. 

“You’re exquisite,” Topper admires, towering over you with a gawking look on his face. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows with a smirk. "You too." 

Topper plops down beside you, sliding to be close to your side. His fingertips glide up and down your arm. “How are you feeling?” 

Your eyes fall shut with a grin. “Like I’m on a cloud," you describe in a whisper as you ponder the sensation of his warm fingers on your cool skin. “You feel on fire. So warm...” 

“Do you like it?” He asks in a whisper and you can feel the warm breath wave over your cheek. 

You hum, focusing on every detail of his touch. You exhale deeply as Topper brushes his lips across your collar bone and planting a kiss on your skin. 

“Do you regret us?” He whispers. You don't see it, but Topper watches you intently with a softly broken expression. He hopes you don't. God, does he want to beg you to be his, only his. 

You shake your head, breathless. "No." 

Glad to say the least, Topper moves his attention to your neck, kissing and sucking hard on the sensitive skin. His hand roams your waist down to your inner thigh, making you inhale sharply. Your back arches off the lounger and toward his hand between your legs. You crave to feel more of him. 

“Are you sure?” He checks quietly in your ear. 

“Yes,” you exhale, too overwhelmed by the pleasure growing inside you to focus on his questions. 

As you kisses Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel. Topper's lips travel down from your jawline to your chest. The memories of winter break, Bermuda, every intense moment you and Topper have ever shared are your driving force right now. As Topper leaves a trail of affection down your collarbone to your chest, he begins to untie your bikini. Then, your thoughts fixate on JJ. His face flickers across your mind. Physically, you want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. You wonder where he is, what he's doing, if he's thinking about you. 

You're so far into your own thoughts that your body goes through the motions subconsciously. You're partially distracted by your thoughts of JJ, but the drugs and alcohol also cloud your mind. You're not entirely sure how things escalated, but deep down you're not shocked. It's you and Topper, you've never been fully satisfied when it comes to one another. You can't help but to feel everything, pondering the glorious and overwhelming pleasure as Topper thrusts into you. 

You bite down on her lip, restricting yourself from accidentally whispering JJ’s name. “Topper,” you pant, focusing. 

“Say it again, Beautiful,” Topper pants, planting a kiss to your chest as he picks up his pace. 

“Please Topper,” you whisper breathlessly. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he grunts, finding himself getting closer with each syllable leaving your lips. 

Topper is your greatest addiction. He’s everything you're supposed to want. He’s utterly devoted to you and secretly you crave his attention. You roll your hips, making him go deeper inside of you, much to his surprise. 

“Fuck Y/N,” he moans in your ear. 

“Holy shit,” you mutter uncontrollably. 

“You always feel so good," Topper swallows hard. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” 

Your nails graze down his back, knowing how much he loves that. “Keep going, I’m so close,” you plead, needing him closer though you know that's impossible. 

“That’s it, Beautiful," Topper guides. "Cum for me,” he demands more than requests. 

“Yes, Topper!" You moan, chasing the high. "Yes!” 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Topper whispers against the skin of your neck and planting a kiss on your jawline. 

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. The moment is intimate and draws you two together. You nod, staring into his eyes. “Cum for me." 

You feel Topper finish inside you, a sensation you've experienced almost a dozen times, but it's never enough. Knowing that you can make Topper feel so free and satisfied sometimes keeps you awake at night. Topper  settles down on the lounger next to you, panting. 

You glance at one another, meeting each other's gaze as you catch your breath. You two laugh, in disbelief of what just occurred. 

“Wow!” Topper chuckles. 

You raise your brows, in awe. “I know." 

“And I thought we wouldn’t outdo Bermuda,” he recalls. 

“I swear Bermuda was the Twilight Zone or something," you giggle. "I only remember flashes of it.”

Topper's eyes grow wide and he places his hand over yours. “Do you remember when we found Rafe with that Brazilian chick!” 

“Oh my God!" You gasp, turning onto your side to face him. "They were on that nasty leather couch that Kelce spilled the grenadine all over!” 

“We were off our asses most of the time,” Topper remembers, pulling you into his side. His arm wraps around you like a protective blanket. 

“Facts, we didn’t see Rafe or Kelce for most of it," you add with a snicker. "I think my brother slept out by the pool every night." 

“I honestly don’t even remember Rhett after the plane landing," Topper confesses, his eyes flicker up to the stary sky. "Plane lands, a week goes by no recollection of Rhett, see Rhett on the plane.” 

“You’re kidding!” You gasp. 

“Dead serious! I swear we left him at the airport,” Topper elaborates with a wide grin. 

“He carried you home from the bar that third night!” You remind him. 

His eyes grow wide, utterly surprised. “I thought that was you!” 

“How could it have been me?!” You swiftly counter, laughing harder than you have in a while. 

“That’s why I was so confused!” He reasons. 

“You’re insane!” You struggle to say between fits of laughter. 

You two share in your laughter, not having had a moment like this in a while. You guys have had so much going on that the last time you truly felt at peace together and free to let go was Bermuda. Had you known that coming home would've meant the end of your two's peace of mind, you're not sure if you would've left. You rest your cheek against his chest, settling in comfortably. 

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us this way,” he confesses softly. 

“I forgot how good it could be,” you admit with a content smile. 

 Topper glides his fingertips up and down your spine. “Well, I guess that proves it then.” 

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest to meet his gaze. “Proves what?” 

“It’s JJ,” Topper sighs, giving you a knowing look. 

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Swiftly, you shuffle through your memories of minutes before, did you say JJ's name? You're almost certain you didn't. You did everything in your power not to. “What do you mean?” 

“I can tell," he shrugs, bringing a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. "It felt great but also different than before. I knew when I had you. I don’t anymore.” 

Your eyes fall to your hand resting on his chest, avoiding his gaze. He caresses your cheek lovingly, despite knowing the truth. “I’m sorry, Topper...” you mumble, full of guilt. 

“It’s okay," he tries to reassure you. "You can love two people at the same time, just in their own way.” 

"I just..." you sit up, frustrated and unable to fully put into words what you're struggling with. Topper sits up beside you, rubbing your back. "When I'm with JJ I'm this one person and when I'm with you I'm completely different! I'm not sure which one is the real me." 

"You don't have to have all answers, just take it day by day," he advises reasonably. "Right now, let's just forget everything else and be here. Nothing can bother us here." 

You exhale deeply and Topper guides you to lay back down. You two stare up at the sky in each other's arms, the faint sounds of the party below not invading either of your minds. The warm night's air breezes by, coating you in a shield of peace. 

“Do you think ten years from now we’ll still be doing this?” Topper wonders. 

“Kinda wanna be married by then,” you giggle. 

“I know, I’d be your side hoe,” he clarifies. 

You swat him on the arm. “Topper!” 

“What!” He laughs. 

“You can’t plan on cheating on your future wife!” You argue playfully. 

“But it’s you, you don’t count!" He reasons. "It’s the Y/N Hall Pass. My wife is wife, obviously my life partner, but you’re... well you’re you," he adds gently, unsure how to describe it. 

“Wow, that’s real flattering,” you joke. 

“You know what I mean!" He rolls his eyes but struggles to hide his amusement. "You know that movie you made me watch last month uh... My Best Friend’s Wedding!” He remembers. You hum, of course, you do, you love that movie. Topper continues, “well, you’re my Julia Roberts.” 

“You want me to try to break up your wedding?” You question, wondering where he's going with this. 

“No, no! Well... if you really think she’s not the one but that’s beside the point," he shakes his head. "I’m talking about what Cameron Diaz said in that elevator scene.” 

“He’s got you on a pedestal and me in his arms,” you quote, predicting his intention. 

Topper tucks his finger under your chin, making you lift your head to meet his gaze. His eyes pour into yours with such intensity, you know he means whatever he's going to say with the utmost certainty. “No one can compete with you, Y/N. Whoever I end up marrying, if I end marrying anyone, they’ll have to be okay that.” 

You lean forward, gently pressing a kiss to Topper's lips. You're not sure if it'll be your last one, but either way, it reminds you of a farewell or closing note. Topper deepens the kiss, bringing his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in. It carries more passion and longing than any other kiss you two have shared, and you've kissed a lot over the years. 

After a couple of minutes under the stars, you and Topper agree that it's time to return to the party before anyone comes searching for you. 

"Wasn't a bad last hoorah if you ask me," Topper concludes as he helps you tie up your top. 

You spin on your heels to face him, bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders. "We really went out with a bang, pun intended." 

"If he ever breaks your heart, I'm first in line," he winks, bringing his hands to your waist. 

You lift your hand to his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I want you to be happy, even if that's not with me." 

He scoffs, holding back his emotions. "Why does it feel like we're breaking up?" He tries to laugh it off. 

"In a way, we are..." You admit, causing Topper to look at you with surprise. He hadn't expected you to agree, though deep down, he hoped you would. 

He slips his head to the side and presses a kiss to your palm before lowering your hand to rest within his. "I'm slowly coming to terms that it may not be you, though I always imagined it was. I sorta feel like I'm starting from scratch. Whenever I envisioned my future, it was with you. Now, the face is blank. I have no idea what's going to happen," he confesses with a breathless laugh, a hint of worry behind the sound. 

"How exciting!" You encourage. 

"Always the optimist," Topper chuckles, before draping an arm across your shoulders and guiding you toward the doors. "Us ending up together would've been too easy anyway. I hate being predictable," he frowns in disgust. 

"Agreed, far too simple," you nod. 

Topper pauses before the door leading out to the hallway. Once you two leave the safety of the third floor, this time you've had alone will be over. Things will never be the same once you close this chapter. Topper peers down at you, longing to tell you. “You know I’ll always be there for you, right?” 

You nod slowly, certain of his words. “Me too, Topper.” 

He leans down, planting a long kiss on your forehead and you can feel the struggle behind the action. Everything about this is bittersweet. “I love you." 

“I love you too," you whisper. 

_________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:@starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things  @hockeybabe87​ @jolomez​ @plutooryectors 

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 4

Masterlist 🌿 (check for previous chapters) / Playlist

In this chapter, the reader fully joins Eivor’s clan and takes part in the celebrations before the raid. Talking with Eda does not go as planned.

Content Warnings for food & alcohol, mentions of physical abuse, lesbophobia, light smut and vomit.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart​

The Sting of Rejection

You had already slept for a few hours when Eivor returned from her council meeting late at night. Even though she tried to be quiet and not to wake you, you were awake as soon as you heard her steps on the path outside.

Birna had curled up in your arms and raised her head when the warrior entered, not moving from her warm and comfortable spot. You remained still, your eyes closed as you listened to the woman’s movements. Her fur coat fell to the ground almost inaudibly, the wood of her trunk creaked quietly as she sat down to take off her boots, her leather pants rustled when she pulled them off and threw them in a corner.

Then you finally felt her motions, too as she lifted a corner of the quilt covering you and slipped in the bed, immediately scooting close to you. She gave Birna a few gentle strokes until the cat started to purr softly and Eivor lowered her head next to yours with a satisfied sigh. She smelled like beer and smoked meat, accompanied by that faint, wonderful scent of tree bark.

You must have stirred because Eivor lifted her head again, whispering: “Little bird… there are good news for you.”

Careful not to disturb Birna, you turned slightly and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She smiled.

“You are now one of us. Mine.” She watched your face attentively for a reaction. You closed your eyes and swallowed. So it was decided.

“Are you happy?” Eivor asked, drawing her fingertips over your healthy cheek.

“Yes, I am,” you answered, turning back around and scooting back against her.

“Mmhh. We’ll talk in the morn.” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, then you both drifted off to sleep.

-

You were woken by Birna's demanding meows at the door. She had not left the hut since yesterday and was probably hungry and in need of a quiet corner. Eivor grunted, then she untangled herself from your limbs and cursed in her mother tongue when she stumbled over her clothes on her way to let the cat out.

“You won’t like it outside, little lady. The snow has stayed,” she grumbled as she opened the door. Indeed, Birna was not amused at the prospect of stepping into the cold, wet powder that painted the village in beautiful white and whirled into the room as soon as the door stood ajar. You pulled the blanket over your head to escape the stinging cold air, listening to Eivor and Birna bicker about the cat’s options for the day.

It really sounded like they were having a conversation, one that ended with Birna leaving with a last, angry cry and Eivor shutting the door with a thankful sigh. She let herself fall back on the bed and crawled under the covers. You stuck your head out.

“So, I’m one of you now?”

Eivor needed a moment to process your question, then she sat up and nodded.

“The council was thankful for your offer to help us prepare the raid and accepted your proposal. You’re going to come with me later so you can have another look at the map and tell us everything you know. In return, you will receive a wooden bangle declaring you part of this clan and my personal servant as soon as we return.”

You sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to find the right words.

“I am very grateful for your trust. I know it normally does not come easy,” you said. “May I ask something else of you?”

The blonde raised her eyebrows with a questioning look.

“My- the people who came with me. How are they?”

“Oh, they are all well.” Eivor got up and started putting on her clothes. “Three of them have decided to stay with us freely and work in the stables and the longhouse. Two have yet to decide and your lady friend is refusing to speak to us. I hear she is eating, at least.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You were not the only one to change sides. You were fairly sure you knew who had taken up work in the village; the two remaining prisoners were probably the squires to Lord William. They had endured harsh treatment at his hands, but he had promised them a future as knights and held them in higher regard than his own daughters. It made sense that Eda was not willing to speak or change her mind. She blamed Eivor for the death of her entire family.

“Eivor?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“Do you think I could have a word with Eda? Maybe I can reason with her,” you suggested, holding your breath as you waited for her reaction. She considered it for a moment, then she shrugged and put on her coat.

“I guess it would do no harm. You can speak with her before we meet the others in the map room, maybe she will tell you something helpful.” She turned around. “Do you want to join me in the longhouse for breakfast?”

The question surprised you, but she was right. You were healing fast, and there was no reason for you to stay in bed any longer. You agreed and swung your legs out of bed, slipped into your wooden clogs and put on your new coat over the linen tunic. Hopefully, you would be able to acquire some more fitting and functional clothes soon, but now was not the time to worry about looks. Your face was still swollen and blue anyway, your bruises now starting to fade to green at the edges.

You quickly rubbed the salve Valka had given you on your tender cheek, then Eivor held the door open for you and you stepped outside into the snow. The air was hard and cold, but clear and when it filled your lungs, you could feel it chase out the last remains of smoke and illness. Walking down to the longhouse, two dogs ran toward you and circled you with excited barks and wagging tails, apparently delighted to see Eivor. She laughed and chased them around for a bit, then she told them she had other things to do and they let her be and ran off towards the stables.

When you entered the longhouse, Eivor was immediately greeted by cheers and excited comments regarding the coming raid. She smiled and acknowledged everyone’s words before leading you to a side part of the house. There was a fireplace in the center of the area, a hole in the roof directing the smoke outside. A kettle and a metal grid were hung over the fire and an old woman was stirring porridge with a gigantic wooden spoon. You both stepped closer.

“Sfáva, dette er Y/N,” Eivor introduced you, gently placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “She is from Williamsburg and has decided to join us. She is a cook, too."

The old woman slowly came closer, squinting her eyes at you until her face was almost directly beneath yours. Then she suddenly gave you a warm, almost toothless smile, deepening the crows’ feet around her eyes and stretching the leathery, weatherbeaten skin on her cheeks.

“Velkommen, Y/N,” she croaked and took your hand, patting it lightly. She chattered something in Eivor’s direction and the warrior translated: “She’s glad to have you here and hopes you can show her some English cooking. She does not speak your language, but she understands a few words and can grasp your meaning if you speak slowly. Our tongues are not too different.”

You smiled back at Sfáva, gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m honored to work by your side, Sfavá.”

The old cook let out a delighted laugh at your proper pronunciation of her name and gestured for you to take a wooden bowl. You and Eivor both took bowls and spoons from a table and Sfavá filled them with porridge. Eivor loaded up her meal with several sausages from the grill, to which you passed.

“I’m afraid we can’t eat together. My place is up there” - she mentioned to the table at the back of the room, standing orthogonal to the rest of the tables - “with my brother. I see your old companions have found themselves over there, maybe you would like to join them?” She motioned over to where the three men that had been released as well sat and ate their breakfast.

You nodded and wished the warrior a good morning, then you walked over and sat down with the others. Aelfric and Hal had been the stable masters back at Williamsburg and were excited about the variety of horses and possibilities here. Eivor had apparently put a lot of money and work into the stables, making them a much more enjoyable place than the dark, moldy ramshackle hut William’s old mares had spent their days in. Lewin was also content with his situation; he had joined the butcher and his son in preparing meat for winter.

They were all happy to see you, thanking you for your quick thinking and cautious behavior during and after the attack. Lewin was even convinced they owed you their lives. While they went on discussing the possibilities of hunting at this time of the year, you stared into your porridge and tried to find the words and the courage for a conversation with Eda.

What could you say that would explain to her your disloyalty to her name, your treachery to England, your betrayal against her after everything you had gone through together? How could you ever change her mind or her situation, what were your possibilities in this? Would she stay locked into a cell for the rest of her life? What would the Vikings do with her if she was nothing but a nuisance?

The others took their leave and you were still none the wiser. Absorbed in your thoughts, you let your gaze wander through the long hall. Your eyes finally got caught on the she-wolf at the elevated warriors’ table. She was deep in conversation with Sigmund and tapping her finger on the table as she made her point to him. He seemed to agree with everything she was saying, consistently nodding his head as he devoured his sausages.

Suddenly, Eivor caught your gaze and while she kept talking, her finger stayed pressed to the wooden tabletop. You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned back to her brother to ask him something. Shaking your head, you got up and brought your empty bowl back to Sfáva’s side table.

Even though her eyesight seemed to be terrible, she immediately recognized you and repeated your name with a joyful fondness in her voice that made your heart swell in your chest. What a wonderful woman.

As you wandered around the hall to collect the dirty bowls people had left on the tables, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Smiling to yourself, you relished at the feeling a little bit longer before turning around to return Eivor’s look. To your surprise, she had stood up and turned her back to you, speaking with someone behind the table.

Slightly bewildered, you finished your round and carried the stash of bowls and spoons back to the cooking area. Just as you turned to ask Sfáva where you should wash the dishes, you saw something blue in the corner of your eye. You looked up and had to force yourself to keep your composure as you saw Randvi leaning against a wooden pillar across the hall and watching you from afar, her arms crossed and her face smooth and expressionless.

She did not move or look away when you saw her, standing perfectly still and continuing to look at you as you finally lowered your gaze and asked Sfáva about your tasks for the day. The old Viking explained her wishes to you with a mix of slow Norwegian and sign language, making it clear you should wash the bowls outside in a big trough and bring her another few sacks of flour. You felt uneasy as you left the longhouse to do your washing up, still followed by Randvi’s piercing gaze.

Eivor caught you outside, glad you had already settled in with your new work and thrilled for the raid. She was practically buzzing with excitement and her restlessness made you laugh, taking your mind off the strange moment with Randvi.

“What are you laughing at, eh? You are looking at a proud drengr, not a jester!” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in feigned outrage and making you laugh even harder.

“You remind me of Eda and Delia on the eve before Christmas. They were so excited for the next morning, they could barely sleep.” Your gaze lost itself in the dirty water in the trough before you. You had some good memories with the two girls. They had been so innocent and happy. A hand on the small of your back drew you back to the present. Eivor had stepped closer.

“I will sleep like a bear in winter so long as you lie by my side,” she said quietly.

Her words and touch sent chills up your spine. Before you could reply, Eivor stepped back.

“But first, we will plan our glorious raid. And then we will celebrate. Oh Y/N, you will love it. Mead and food and great songs - we will be in good spirits tonight. And tomorrow will be even better!” Her eyes lit up at the thought of the joy and glory to come. “I need to look at a few things in the stables. Take this time to speak with your friend. I will come and get you when it is time to meet over the map.”

You watched her as she walked away, a spring in her step as she headed for the wooden building at the far end of the village. The dishes were clean, so you took them back inside and left them on the table for Sfáva. She was deep in conversation with two other Norse women when you filled another bowl with porridge and two sausages and quietly made your way to the cell in the back of the longhouse.

Eda sat on the floor where you had left her last. Her dress was dusty and stained, her hair was matted and her face looked grey and old. Dag, who was keeping watch again, let you in with a grumble and sat back down on his chair. Eda refused to look at you as you knelt down before her and offered her the food.

“Eda, please. You must eat. You look like death itself.”

“I don’t fear death,” she mumbled, still staring at her hands, “I fear traitors and backstabbing snakes.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs. You had not expected her to be this hostile. What now?

“I do not claim to know the pain you feel and the losses you are bearing. I am simply trying to live with dignity instead of wasting away,” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes. “Do you not see my face? Were you not there when I learned I was worth nothing at Williamsburg, nothing but dirt on your father’s shoe? Eivor has offered me a place in this world. She-”

“You and your precious Eivor!” Eda snapped, her gaze now burning right through your head and her face screwed up into a hateful grimace. “You fell to your knees the second you saw her, begging for her to take you. I will not be lulled into submission by a filthy little sapphic whore!”

This blow hurt worse than William’s fist. There was nothing left to say. You put the bowl down next to her, then you stood up and left the cell. Dag gave you a strange look when he locked the door again.

Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped into Eivor. She knew something was wrong right away, pulling you into her warm embrace and letting you cry into her chest for a long moment until she pulled back and lowered her head to look at you.

“What is it, my little bird? Will your friend neither soften nor think clearly?”

You just nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Eivor turned to look over her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled you into an alcove.

“You stay here and collect yourself. I will tell them you got held up and will be there soon.” She pulled you in for a last, quick hug, then she vanished from sight.

You took a few deep breaths and slapped your chest and torso, trying to fully return to the present, to your body, and to your rational thoughts. If Eda wanted nothing more to do with you, so be it. You had other things to worry about now.

When you entered the map room there were five men waiting for you alongside Eivor and Randvi. One of them was Sigurd, Eivor’s brother and the official chief of her clan, even though you felt like a lot of people cared for Eivor more strongly. You had just found out today that he was also Randvi’s husband. The other four you had seen before but you did not know their names.

Eivor looked up from the map first, smiling widely and rounding the table to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She was the cook at Williamsburg and has visited Fort Winton several times. She will tell us all she knows about the area and the castle.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” One of the warriors gave word to what everyone was thinking. You straightened up, trying to brace yourself against Randvi’s icy expression.

“Thank you for this opportunity to make myself useful here. My cheek made acquaintance with Lord William’s fist the day of your attack, but I am healing now and he is not, that is all that matters. And I have you to thank for it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy everyone and you got to work. You spent the next hours telling them about every path and entrance to the castle you knew of, every person working there when you last visited, and everything about the Stewart that had taken over the shire. You even drew a plan of the order of the buildings and the rooms you knew of.

The Viking warriors warmed up to you quickly when they realized how much valuable knowledge you were giving them and even Randvi seemed to forget her hostility toward you after a while. The group even allowed you to stay for their debates on the right strategy, taking all your comments into consideration and thanking you for your help. Eivor reminded you at some point that you were still injured and told you to go back to the hut, put on the salve, and lay down. She would pick you up later for the feast.

Birna was already waiting for you at the door, mortally offended at having spent the day outside in the snow. She weaseled through the first crack in the door and was even more distraught when the fireplace was dead and the bed cold. You apologized sincerely and lit a fire to make Valka’s wonderful brew while you gently applied her salve to your healing cheek.

While your tea was steeping, you curled up with Birna and poured your heart out to her about Eda. She was a wonderful listener, snuggling up to you when you started crying and supporting your distraught words with agreeing meows. It was heartbreaking - the one friend you still had left did not want to be your friend anymore. You were all alone here. You had to admit that the Norse people were extremely welcoming to you and that Eivor would probably be very offended to hear you call yourself alone after two nights in her arms, but still. You were lonely. After you had drunk a cup of your herb infusion, you laid down, pulled Birna into your arms and cried yourself to sleep while the white cat silently watched over you.

-

A light grasp on your shoulder woke you and you opened your eyes to find Eivor crouching down before you, smiling softly at you. It was already dark outside and you had trouble finding your grasp on reality for a moment. Was it the next day? No. The feast.

Your mouth was dry and your eyelids felt heavy from crying. Eivor softly brushed the hair out of your face with her fingers.

“Good evening, little bird. Can I interest you in some excellent boar meat and warm mead?”

Birna answered in your stead, crying out as she stretched her little body on top of you. Eivor’s expression became even softer.

“For you, little lady, I have something special.” She took a small balled up bundle from her pocket and opened the stained cloth to reveal some fresh innards, probably taken from the boar. She placed the cloth on the ground in front of the fireplace and Birna jumped down from the bed to have her own royal feast.

You got up and followed the cat's example in stretching your limbs, feeling Eivor’s eyes on you as you put on your shoes and cloak and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. The blonde was next to you at once, holding your hands still.

“Wait. Let me.”

She opened her wooden chest and produced a beautiful wide-tooth comb. It was made from some kind of bone or fang. The warrior stood behind you and gently pulled all your hair back towards her. Then she began combing it out, starting at the bottom of each strand and carefully moving upwards, taking out any knots or dirt. Her fingers touched your scalp every time she took a new strand of hair, sending lightning down your spine and making the hair on your neck stand up.

“That’s better. I can braid it for you, too, if you’d like that,” Eivor said behind you. You brushed a hand over your long hair and felt its smoothness. You had never been allowed to wear your hair down at Williamsburg, always having to put it up in a knot and wear a bonnet or at least a cap. Today you had seen so many Viking women proudly wearing their hair down, some with intricate little braids and beads in theirs.

“I’d like that, yes,” you whispered, scared your voice would betray you. Every day, every hour here felt like a step closer to freedom and happiness.

“Sit down on the bed.” The blonde gently guided you to sit at the foot of the mattress so she could stand next to you. Then she began taking hair from your healthy side and braiding it along the hairline around your ear and down the back of your neck. She stepped around you to look at her work from the front.

“I think that is all you need. You’re beautiful.”

Your heart jumped into your throat, almost making its way onto your tongue. Your fingers followed the path of the small braid, admiring the perfect work of the warrior’s calloused hands. How peculiar, that these rough hands that wielded swords and axes bigger than your head could also be so gentle and precise.

A knock on the door tore you out of your reverie. It was Valka who wanted to take a look at your face and pick you both up for the feast. She was satisfied with your healing process and delighted to see Birna, having a little chat with the cat on the bed. You had to keep yourself from laughing when the thought of Birna being the true queen of this clan entered your head. She probably felt that the same way. The white cat was adored by everyone, and her demands were followed without question.

As the three of you made your way down to the longhouse, you could already hear loud singing and laughter. People were stumbling outside to relieve themselves in the bushes and others were just arriving, all being greeted with loud cheers and big jugs of mead. The same happened to you when you entered the great hall. A few warriors rushed to your side, greeting Eivor and paying you compliments and thanks for your help that day. Enthusiasm saturated the air like a humid day, filling everyone with joy and confidence for tomorrow.

Valka was quick to take the jug of ale from your hands and gave it to someone else who swore his love to her in return. She just smiled and pulled you towards the kitchen area. You had already lost Eivor in the mass of warriors jeering and singing praise to Odin. At the hearth fire, you met Sfáva sitting on a bench and enjoying a massive pitcher of mead. She cried out in joy when she saw you and hugged Valka tightly in greeting before squeezing your hands and grinning her almost toothless smile at you.

Valka asked you to stay with the older woman for a while and help her with the food; then you saw her talk to a red-haired woman and vanish in a dark corner with her. Maybe that was the woman she had spoken about with Eivor before? You wished her the best of luck.

There was not too much to do. The boar was on a spit over the great fire in the main hall and the men were responsible for cutting down the meat for everyone. You were grilling sausages and vegetables on the side and helping the boys open new barrels of ale that were consistently emptied within the hour.

Eivor came by soon, asking for more variety on her plate. It was obvious that she had already had enough mead to kill a boar, slightly swaying when she walked and getting extremely close when she tried to talk to you over the noise in the hall. Her face was red and radiating heat, her eyes had a drunk glisten to them and her laugh was rougher and dirtier than during the day. You were glad she was enjoying herself, although you could not help but wonder if this was the best idea considering her plans for tomorrow.

You spent some time outside cleaning plates at the trough and getting fresh air when you suddenly heard a noise around the corner. You debated for a moment whether you should risk a look but your curiosity got the best of you. As you stuck your head around the edge of the house, you weren’t immediately sure what you saw before you.

Two figures were leaning against the wall in close embrace, chuckling and mumbling sweet nothings to each other. As a cloud finally freed the moon and its light shone down on your village, you made out Valka’s golden headdress and the silhouette of the red-haired woman she had talked to earlier. Apparently, she had gotten lucky. You quietly moved back to your plates and smiled to yourself. Valka was a wonderful person, giving and loving and always putting others’ needs above hers. Eivor had spoken very highly of her trusted friend. She deserved to be happy.

When you came back inside and put the plates back on the sideboard in the cooking area, you noticed Eivor sitting at the front table surrounded by her men. And oh - there was Randvi sitting next to her. The two of them were leaning toward each other, their heads almost touching as they laughed about something Sigurd had said. It seemed that they had talked about their difficulties and made up.

You let yourself fall on the bench next to Sfáva and she patted your thigh, holding out her pitcher to signal it was empty. With a sigh, you got up to get her more mead and made yourself a plate of vegetables from the grid, seeing as you had not eaten since breakfast. Sfáva noticed you had not taken any meat and insisted you go get some boar meat. Upon the realization that she would not let you sit down again until you had tried the boar, you slowly went over to the big fire, hoping no one would notice you. The warrior there cut you a generous piece and you were almost back in your dark corner when someone called your name. God, no.

Aelfric, Hal, and Lewin were sitting at a table with some other stable boys and young maids. You gave Sváfa an apologetic wave which she answered with a loud, heartfelt laugh, then you made your way to your old companions. The boar was better than you had expected and you really were terribly hungry, wolfing down your food at an indecent speed and even going back for another portion. The others were talking about the two squires still sat in the cell; they were sure they would come around by the next morning. Who would really prefer the cold ground over these celebrations and the wonderful food that was shared fairly between everyone?

Looking over to the table at the back of the hall you could see Eivor and her friends conversing loudly, laughing and slapping each other's backs. At one point Dag danced on the table, but he soon lost his footing and went down in a wave of plates, jugs, rattling metal, and the yells of his fellow warriors. You stared at Eivor for a while, hoping she would return your gaze, but she was completely immersed in her conversation and never even looked up from her table. You finished your meal quietly, listening to the others talking about a new dice game they had learned and about a filly at the stable that was born in late autumn, a strange and dangerous time for newborns in the animal world. Together, they were sure they would get it through the winter safe.

Later you returned to Sfáva and leaned against the wall opposite her, warming yourself up by the fire and keeping an eye on Eivor, who was apparently in another drinking contest with one of her men. Randvi had her hands on Eivor’s shoulders and was cheering her on. A small figure stepped next to you, crossing her arms and following your gaze. Valka had returned.

You made no attempt to hide your feelings, you knew she had already seen through you. The healer put an arm around your waist and shook you slightly, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

“I know you saw us, Y/N.” The words took a moment for you to grasp their meaning, then you turned to Valka in surprise.

“Oh God, I swear I will keep your secret. I am a master at keeping my mouth shut.”

The smaller woman had to smile at your nervous reaction.

“I trust you. I am glad it was you that caught us and not someone else.”

“May I ask…” you hesitated, “what is going on between you?”

Valka turned her head to look at the singing warriors in the hall. There was a pain in her eyes that felt just too familiar.

“She is married. It was not her choice, but her father’s way of forging an alliance. Her husband is one of the hunters and away most of the time. When he beat her badly the first time, she came to me.”

The silence between you was heavy with meaning. When she began to speak again, her words grabbed your feet and pulled on them, getting heavier and heavier until you began to wonder why the earth had not opened underneath you and swallowed you whole.

“I know you wonder what happened between Eivor and Randvi. It is neither my place nor my ability to tell you everything, but I will say this, for fairness’s sake and because I think you already know in your heart. There was once love between them. Whether it still lives on, I cannot tell. But Eivor has told me that she is ready to leave this bond behind her because she feels something new, something far deeper and more intensive is coming. That is why she has pursued you. She felt something deeper the moment she met you.”

Valka turned to you and you fought to at least turn your feet so you could face her. Everything was spinning around you. The dark-haired woman gently placed her hands on either side of your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. The gods will lead you. They have decided your destiny long before you were born.”

After recommending you should get some sleep, Valka left you frozen in place and dizzy. The noise that filled the room was now nothing but a single loud booming voice threatening to split your head. You needed to get some air. Maybe your bed was really the best idea.

You looked around for Eivor, but she had vanished from sight. It did not matter, you would find your way into her arms later one way or another. You said your goodbyes to Sfáva and the other servants, then you finally exited the longhouse and inhaled the cool night air.

Rounding the corner toward your hut, you were suddenly startled by a noise that sounded like an animal crying out. Maybe a cat? You tiptoed around the dark cottage to your right and suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart dropped to your feet and all the blood left your face.

Eivor had pressed her brother's wife to the wooden wall and was kissing her passionately while her hands explored Randvi’s body under her tunic. They were so immersed that they had not heard you coming. You could not move, your feet suddenly weighing you down like boulders again.

The blonde’s knee was between the other woman’s legs and Randvi spread them for her lover, moaning into her mouth. As Eivor started attacking her neck with kisses, the auburn-haired woman opened her eyes and looked directly at you. The surprise in her gaze was almost unnoticeable, fading quickly to be replaced by malicious pleasure as she continued to stare at you while whining Eivor’s name and burying her fingers in the warrior’s hair.

Finally, your muscles started to work again. You turned on the spot and quietly made your way to Eivor’s hut. You felt sick. Closing the door behind you, you kicked your shoes under the bed and threw your coat into the corner. The cat on Eivor's pillow just gave you a questioning look.

“Oh Birna, if only you knew.” You threw yourself on the bed next to her, then you started bawling for the second time today. You cried until there was not a single tear left and you felt completely empty inside. Then you scooted close to the edge of the bed, turning your back to Eivor’s side, and tried to fall asleep.

Even though you fell into a state of absence, sleep would not come. Dread filled you when you heard teps at the door. But before Eivor could enter, you heard her cough and retch, probably throwing up into the thorny bushes a few steps from the door. A slight feeling of righteousness overcame you but it quickly disappeared again, leaving only misery and desperation.

When the warrior finally entered, you could hear her stumble through the room and curse under her breath as she hit her foot on the bed frame. She seemed to only take off her coat and let it fall to the floor before lying down next to you and falling asleep in an instant. A part of you had still hoped for her arms around you, despite everything. Now you could hear her ragged breathing and smell the smoke and alcohol on her hair and breath.

The tears came again and you silently cried into your pillow while the warrior slept soundly next to you, oblivious to your sorrow. Only Birna proved her loyalty to you by getting up from Eivor’s side of the bed and rolling up in the crook of your bent knees.

-

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you were woken the next morning by another salve of mumbled curses. It was still grey outside, dawn had only just begun. You stayed completely still and listened to Eivor dress herself and collect her weapons and shield from her trunk.

To your surprise, the warrior suddenly walked around to your side, crouched down, and lightly stroked your hair.

“Have a good day, my little bird. I will bring you honor and victory today,” she whispered, then she stood up and swiftly left the hut.

-

Let me know what you thought ❤️ (it’s okay if you hate me, I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next chapters)

[consumeconstantly]

Not a Saint or a Hero

Summary: To civilians, Ladybug is a hero. In the eyes of the law, Ladybug is a vigilante at best, and a villain at worst. 

______________________________________________________

Conquering the Parisian underworld is child’s play for Ladybug and her partner, Chat Noir. The ex-boss of the Parisian underworld, code name Hawkmoth, may have been good at pushing drugs and ruining people’s lives, but he was woefully incompetent at... basically everything else. Which meant that other than Hawkmoth and his direct underlings, there really wasn’t much of a structure at all that Ladybug had to be worried about. No cohesive unit, fighting as one, just easy pickings and an even easier way to convince the drug dealers, homeless, illegal fight rings, and various other under the radar activities to band together to topple Hawkmoth’s empire. 

Ladybug, after all, had experience with overthrowing established mafiosos. She did it once in Wenzhou at her mother’s side, another time in Beijing because somebody made the mistake of trying to push her into prostitution, and twice in Italy with her grandmother, code name Befana.

“Do you really have to leave, m’lady?”

Ladybug shrugs. “I trust you and the team to keep things up and running. We had a good run, but there’s a good structure in place now and Befana wants me to go with her to another country.”

Nobody says no to Befana, not unless they’re bullet proof. Ladybug may have high quality Kevlar sewn into every outfit she wears, but even she isn’t the biggest fan of the impact of a bullet. Depending on the gun, broken ribs are a kindness.

“I know you don’t get along with Queen Bee, and almost everyone else is out of the country, but you’re not going to say goodbye to Rena or Carapace?”

“It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever. Just a few months. A year at most.”

“Promise me you’ll come back, m’lady?”

Ladybug puts a hand on her partner's shoulder. “You know I can’t make promises like that.”

Chat pauses, dull thud of the rave music filling in their silence. 

He swirls the whiskey in his glass. “Stay safe, Bug. Play it smart.”

“I always do.”

#

It comes as no surprise that Befana dumps her in the middle of one of the most crime infested cities world wide without a backwards glance. Her granddaughter is grown up now, after all. 

“Have fun, darling. Black Mask is particularly nasty, make sure to watch out for his assistant, she’s very sharp.” Befana pulls away from the nonexistent curb— nonexistent because there’s no sidewalks in the slums of Gotham, at least, not many of them in good enough conditions to have curbs or whole piece of cement to walk on— and leaves Marinette all on her lonesome with a backpack, a key to a cheap apartment.

Marinette eyes the broken bottles leading to the entryway of her new building and the boarded up windows. Across the street, there’s two women smoking and conversing in hushed tones.

“Well,” Marinette mutters underneath her breath, shifting the straps of her only worldly possessions. “It’s definitely quieter than I expected.”

“Hey, new girl,” one of the women in the group calls out to her. “What’re you in for?”

“School. This is the cheapest apartment I could find.”

The woman exchanges a glance with one of her friends. 

“You’re better off finding a more expensive apartment elsewhere. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

An excellent line for Marinette to begin to fish for information. “What do you mean by that?”

“This is disputed territory, now. If you can’t afford to stay somewhere else, you better stay with whoever just dropped you off.”

Marinette fidgets. Gina is long gone. Grandmother or not, even though Gina is undoubtedly loyal and will never hurt her, she believes that the best way to inspire growth is through adversity. Like now. The only information she got out of Befana was that she had to figure out a way to keep Gotham in line… whatever that meant. “She’s not going to come back. I guess I’ll just have to try my luck.”

“You really got nowhere else to go?”

“No. I’m from abroad.”

“That explains the accent,” says the one holding a beer bottle. “Then listen up, girlie. If you wanna survive, there’s three rules you’ve gotta learn. One. Don’t cross the Black Mask. Two. Don’t cross Red Hood. Three. Don’t sell to children.”

“Sell to children?”

“Well, I don’t suppose you’d be doing it anyways, given the whole,” she motions to Marinette’s body with a cigarette, “but Hood goes after anyone who sells drugs to kids real bad. Worse than if you fuck him over with anything the Black Mask’s doing, anyways.”

“Red Hood doesn’t sound like that bad of a guy, then.” Maybe she’ll look into a collaboration with him.

The woman with the beer bottle laughed. “Oh honey, you’re a saint. Don’t go fostering any dreams. You just stay away, hear?”

“I hear you,” Marinette says.

But they got something wrong. 

Marinette isn’t a saint, and never has been.

#

The walls of her crappy one bedroom apartment are thin enough to hear the baby upstairs scream at ungodly hours. If it’s not the baby waking her up, her neighbors in the apartment to her right are fucking very, very loudly. The apartment below her blasts rock music at all hours, the apartment to her right is likely selling drugs, given that she sees at least fifteen different people come in and out each day, and they always have a vaguely dazed look in their eye. She hasn’t heard anything from the apartment across, but she’s sure they’ll start up some noisy activity that Marinette doesn’t particularly want to hear soon enough.

She really got pampered in Paris, didn’t she?

Marinette lived a life of relative luxury whenever she stayed with her parents, instead of Gina. While in Beijing and Chongqing with Tom and Sabine, Maman did all of the heavy lifting for her. Well, Beijing had ended rather disastrously, and they had to make a quick getaway, but at least in Chongqing, Sabine managed to get rid of the prostitution ring. 

Back in Wenzhou, Catania, and Bologna, Gina took the reins, and it always turned out to be a sink or swim sort of situation. First off was her mother’s birth place, which had an astonishingly high crime rate and definitely explained why Sabine Cheng was so adept at self defense, and once they were there, of course they had to reform the fight rings. In Catania and Bologna, Gina practically threw her at two of the lowest rank mafia groups and told her to use them to bring order to the warring mafias. During those years, Gina didn’t make a front like Sabine and Tom did, purchasing a bakery and running a business to aid their more behind the scenes work. No, with Gina, it was either war of peace, and there was nowhere in between.

Which, of course, meant that Marinette rarely got to stay in nice rooms or pursue hobbies like sewing or drawing or anything, really.

Now that she is of age, Marinette could potentially try to wrest herself out of Befana’s influence, but that’s almost a laughable thought. Befana has eyes and ears everywhere. If she wants to escape the rat race of reformation, Marinette needs to gather power. 

The best thing she can do for now is try to figure out the situation in Gotham. If it’s not particularly bad, maybe she’ll have an easy time of it, and figure out how to disappear herself. She’s not totally opposed to the whole making-criminals-act-within-the-bounds-of-morality thing, but it’s gotten pretty tiring. Not repetitive, necessarily, but after experiencing an almost normal life in Paris, Marinette does want to have the privilege of not having to worry about her life every hour. Maybe she can even start up a little boutique. 

Marinette dumps most of the contents out of her bag, only leaving her wallet, a knife, and her trademark yo-yos. 

“Maybe I can go back to Paris, eventually.” She has become very fond of the city; the first place where she took fate into her own hands, where her mother and grandmother didn’t push her to reform the underworld. The first place where she chose to change the world around her. The first place where she saw things through from start to finish. The first place she formed her own team. 

The power of change is both incredibly addicting and terrifying. She sort of gets why Befana roams the world, looking for the next place she wants to shake things up in. But Marinette can’t get addicted. This is going to be her last city, then she’s going to return to Paris and settle down. She’ll leave city beautification to the so-called vigilantes that almost every city has acquired, save Paris.

Oh wait, she supposes that Ladybug and Chat Noir were-- and Chat still is-- a type of vigilante back home. But as it stands now, it will be more correct to refer to them as heads of the Parisian underworld; they definitely don’t work on the side of the law, but she and Chat made sure that drug deals were more… regulated. That deaths and the induction of children into such a dark world were curbed. That if people really wanted to get out, they could.

All of that doesn’t matter. Not in the eyes of the law at least. Parisian citizens love the duo for helping keep crimes off the streets and for banning the particularly strong strain of drug that Gabriel called AKUMA off the market, but the Parisian police? She and Chat both have targets on their head. Their whole team does.

She eyes the apartment across from her. There’s blood on the door handle. It’s a good thing that Sabine and Tom never tried to instill those odd customs of ‘house warming’ and ‘getting to know her neighbors’ that most other people teach their children. In good neighborhoods, it’s important to have a cordial relationship with whoever’s living next door. In neighborhoods like these? It’s even more important.

But rule number one of pissing people off? 

Coming over uninvited.

Marinette doesn’t bother locking the door behind her. 

#

“New to the neighborhood?”

Apparently, it really is bizarre for her to have moved into this apartment complex. She’s come across a grand total of five people during her week here, and every single one of them stopped whatever they were doing in order to take a closer look. 

Marinette knows that this is a disputed area. She looked into the two women’s words the day she arrived. But, for a disputed area, everything is remarkably quiet. No fights, nobody on the streets, most people keep indoors, unless they’re out for a smoke, to throw out the trash, or are going to or coming back from various activities outside of the block.

What’s even more odd is that all of her neighbors seem to know each other intimately. Or at least, intimately enough to know that she doesn’t belong there.

“Yeah,” Marinette says, ready to leave this conversation behind. She doesn’t bother getting information out of the people who are in her apartment complex or on this block. To be more accurate, she tried with one of the first people she came across, but it was apparent that someone encouraged them to be tight lipped with information. 

Given the current information she has, she thinks it’s more likely that the one who gave that order is Red Hood, rather than Black Mask.

“Been here a week.” The guy lights his joint and breathes out. “Not so new anymore.”

Over the years, she’s gotten used to the smell of marijuana, though she can’t say she likes the scent. She’ll take cigarettes over weed any day.

“You could say that.”

“Don’t suppose anybody’s laid out the rules for you yet, have they?”

Maybe this will make things easier for her. Mostly, she’s just settled into her apartment over the past seven days. There's no need for her to immediately get to work, and she does enjoy comfort. Taking down criminals is hard work. She wants to come back to an apartment that doesn’t look awful and lets her relax. So what if she spent most of her money on an expensive mattress and a coffee machine? She’s an adult now. Nobody can tell her what to do. (Except for Befana.) “No, not really.”

“Tina and Audrey give you a crash course?”

“Mostly just warned me not to sell to children.”

The man barks, smoke spitting into the stale air. “Some of the best advice around. Let me tell you, Black Mask might have more manpower, but Red Hood has rage. Cross Black Mask by gypping him, he’ll send a lackey after you. Fuck with children, Red Hood himself will come for you.”

He pauses, evaluating her appearance. 

“Though you look like a child yourself. Mighty pretty too. lucky girl. Hood will protect you if you stay around these parts, but if you go south on the diagonal, you’ll be in bad territory. Plenty of prostitution rings around there.”

“Thought this was disputed territory.”

“Not really. Anywhere Hood has claimed is said to be disputed because Mask hates his guts and keeps sending goons to these areas. But anyone who’s dealing under Mask aint gonna take the risk of their lives just to branch out to these spots.”

“Sounds like Red Hood is pretty well liked around these parts, then.”

Perhaps she’ll look into working with him. From what she’s heard of the guy and what she’s found trawling the dark web, his morals seem to align with her own. A little bit more temperamental than she’d like, a little too quick to kill, rather than apprehend, but Gotham prisons seem to have jailbreaks every other week, so she can understand why it may be easier just to make every encounter a one and done.

“Liked?” Blunt finished, he flicks the stub into the dirt, crushing the embers under foot. He wipes his mouth with the scarf around his neck. “Like isn't the question in Gotham, Frenchie.”

Marinette inwardly cringes. She’s tried to minimize her accent because it makes natives distrust her, or think they can take her for a loop. Most people she’s come across accept her as one of their own, but apparently she hasn’t been doing as well as she thought she was. Maybe this is why people seemed a little more reluctant with any information.

“When it comes down to it, liking means nothing. It’s who you trust to watch your back.” He fumbles in his pockets, pulling out another blunt. Marinette notices that his fingers are fairly heavily bandaged and that the man is shaking slightly. Medicinal marijuana, maybe. “Wouldn’t trust that Mask farther than I can throw him. And he used to be a wrestler, so he’s a fat bastard. At least you can trust Hood not to cross you as long as you don’t cross him first.”

Lighting the tip, his eyes sharpen. “You seem like the trustworthy sort. Active, too. I’ll leave you with one more piece of advice. If you ever run into Hood? Don’t mention two things: the Joker, and Batman.”

“I doubt I’ll ever run into him,” Marinette lies. 

The man laughs. “I’m a Gotham native, Frenchie. I can tell what kind of person you are. You’ll be meeting him soon, I know. Hood needs someone to watch his back, and you? You need someone to keep your head above water.”

He flicks the ash off the blunt and turns his back on her, and Marinette can’t tell whether he’s showing her respect or belittling her.

#

 Two weeks into her stay in Gotham and Marinette has finally collected enough information about her surroundings to feel confident about going out as Ladybug.

Guns are infinitely more available here in America than they were back in France, which means she needed more than one costume, and an upgrade to her current one. High quality kevlar is good and all, but it’s heavy, and not everyone in Gotham is high off their minds using AKUMA. Replacing kevlar with polythene, now that it’s available to her, is only a natural decision. She has to be more careful here in Gotham. Not only does she have no support network, she’s also highly inexperienced with the terrain. She’s at a disadvantage here.

With a combo polythene and kevlar bodysuit, a crop top with her signature ladybug embroidery on the backside, an all black domino mask, and a utility belt with two yo-yos , knife, and emergency medical supplies, she’s as ready as she ever will be to witness the nightlife first hand.

And just like in Paris, Wenzhou, Beijing, Chongqing, Catania and Bologna, she doesn’t have to go far to find the trouble.

Befana has told her multiple times that Marinette is like a lucky charm for problems. Judging by the amount of time she’s gotten herself into sticky situations unintentionally, she’s inclined to agree, though she’d call herself more of an unlucky charm.

She doesn’t bother speaking, instead hurling one yo-yo at the guy who’s trying to tie up a girl half her age and the other yo-yo at the wheels of his car, to make sure he can’t make a quick getaway.

Ladybug may not use guns, but she never said that her weaponry wasn’t tricked out; yo-yo knocks the guy up the head, sending him down for the count, and yo-yo two slashes through the rubber tire. The man waiting in the car rolls down the window to shoot. Ladybug rolls her eyes. Dumb and dumber. She’s not sure whether he’s trying to preserve his windows or doesn’t realize that rolling down his window leaves him open for her own attacks.

Reeling back in yo-yo one. She hurtles it through the window, presses a button, then ducks. The head of the yo-yo detached and shocks the driver.

“Need help getting home?” Ladybug asks the girl who’s currently edging away from her. 

“Who are you? Why did you help me?”

Ladybug shrugs. She’s never been particularly good at explaining herself; Chat took care of most of the conversions within Hawkmoths retinue. She’s good at making the occasionally public statement and making sure people she’s close to don’t stray, but strangers? Most people back in Paris just trusted her blindly, and she never had to think about how to present her reasoning.

She takes two sets of zip ties out of her pack, then restrains her first victim. After she slaps a patch on the tire-- if she is going to take this girl home, she certainly doesn’t want to walk her back in this neighborhood, and judging by the size of the van, there are probably a few people in the back she’ll need to free as well. Ladybug moves on to tie up the guy in the car, back towards the girl. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine too.”

As soon as she turns, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “You’re with Hood, then.”

Not yet. “M not, actually. Never met the guy. What makes you say that?”

A bout of nervous, high pitched laughter. “The red, maybe. Or, I don’t know, the fact that he’s here and not knocking you out?”

Ladybug whirls, trying to see where the infamous vigilante is. True to the girls word, he is just a little ways down the alleyway they’re currently in, looking, for all intents and purposes, not about to kill her. How pleasant. Better than she was expecting; his temper precedes him, and she was expecting to have to fight with the guy before even dreaming about having a civil discussion with him.

He doesn’t have his hands on his guns, which she takes as a good sign. Taking a good look at him she’s almost surprised that he’s calming himself the Red Hood instead of the Red Helmet, but she supposes the former sounds better.

“Let me finish tying that one up,” Ladybug says.

Red Hood grunts in response.

“So you are working together,” the girl concludes.

Ladybug shrugs again, tapping another button to reattach the head of her yo-yo and grabbing the keys and phone from the driver’s pocket. She pops the back of the van. There are three girls tied up in the back. 

Her knife makes quick work of the bonds that restrain them. The girls take the duct tape off their mouths themselves; she feels a deep disgust of the men that are currently knocked unconscious. Not only are they traffickers, but they’re new traffickers. Inexperienced. Duct tape isn’t used most times because it damages the goods. Either that, or they’re organ dealers, because people don’t need the bodies to look pretty when they just want the innards. Judging by the fact that all of the people in the back are girls, she’ll put money on the first one.

“You going to let me drive these girls back before we have our talk?”

“Fine,” Red Hood bites out, moving to sit shotgun. “You move one finger out of line, and I’ll shoot.”

Ladybug tosses the unconscious body out of the driver’s seat.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

@jasonette-july-2k20