#garfield imagines

[hanluex]

♡ MIDNIGHT HAIRSTYLIST — GAR LOGAN

gar x gn!reader | wc : 0.1k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, domestic fluff, comfort

"do you even know what you are doing?"

you asked, stifling your laughs as you watched your boyfriend from the mirror in front of you.

garfield logan sat on the edge of the bed, a pile of bows and hair ties on his lap. you could only laugh as he messed around, adding all sorts of accessories to your hair.

"hey, hey," he grumbled, frowning playfully. "you can't rush perfection, okay?"

"gar, i don’t know what you mean by perfection..." you took a breath, shaking your head. "… but this is far from it."

"is it really that bad?"

"babe, my hair literally looks like a bow store."

you turned to face your boyfriend, the two of you bursting into laughter as you made eye contact.

the green-haired male rolled his eyes. "fine, then. do your own hair, i guess." he watched you as you took off the accessories.

you were all giggles as you removed the bows from your hair, oblivious to the heart eyes and endearing smile your boyfriend had as he looked at you.

and in that moment, he knew. heck, you were just taking out the thousand bows he put in your hair, but he knew. and he wanted to let you know.

"hey, y/n."

"yeah?" his serious tone gained your attention immediately. "what’s up?"

"i love you. so very much, i do."

TAGLIST: (SEND AN ASK OR DM TO BE ADDED!)

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬

→ premise: peter needed to test how strong the new formula for his web shooters is so why not get his gf’s help, and have a little fun with it. its not like he had millions of other more scientific ways to test its strength.

→ pairing: tasm!peter x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, bondage [with peters webs], fingering, small edging, peter possibly ooc, nicknames [baby, princess]

→ a/n: kinktober 04

Sure Peter had plenty of other ways he could test out the strength of his newly formulated web fluid. But you were just so eager to help your boyfriend out, always asking him if there was something you could do. Sewing up gashes and holes in his spider suit, patching him up after a fight, etc. So why not enlist the help of his pretty girlfriend instead of testing it out the same old boring way he always did. Of course being unaware of his little scheme you innocently and sweetly said yes when he asked if you'd help him out with an experiment. That was how you ended up in Peter's bed, hands restrained together and stuck to the headboard with his webs.

His body was currently nestled between your spread legs, eyes roaming your body before fixing on your face. Your lower half is entirely exposed, the breeze from his open window nipping at your skin making you squirm. “This wasn't what I thought you meant when you asked for help, and I said yes Peter” you whine and buck your hips into his touch as his hands roam up your sides, rubbing and caressing your body. You can feel the cool metal of the singular web shooter strapped to his left wrist. “Oh this is fully what I intended when I asked baby, tug all you want, squirm all you want” he coos as he uncovers your breasts by pushing your shirt up to reveal them. “Need to test how strong the new formula is” he explains softly as his right hand falls between your open thighs, middle and ring fingers nudging open your slit and rubbing through your folds. Slick immediately collecting on the tips of his slender fingers.

With a sharp intake of breath you twist your body and try shifting your hips away from his hands. His free hand that has the web shooter aims towards your writhing leg and shoots webs that wrap your ankle tethering it to his foot board. “You sure this wasn’t what you intended, princess? You're so wet for me” he emphasizes his tease with a tilt of his head, smirking softly as his two fingers push at your hole.

You whine and push your hips back on his hand trying to get them inside you, your hole clenching at the small intrusion. “I missed you Pete, you've been so busy” you explain and look through your lashes at your boyfriend hovering over you, your eyes full of longing and love. “Awww well i'm here now baby” he leans down and presses his lips to yours just as his two fingers push knuckle deep inside you. You let out a short surprised moan against his lips as you kiss back greedily. You tug at the webs around your wrists, hands desperate and itching to touch Peter. “Keep tugging baby, try your hardest, you can do it” he mumbles into your mouth, his words both encouraging and mocking before humming when you whine in response. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the pleasure, his free hand coming to pin your hips down holding them still.

Pumping his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt, a sloppy squelching sound filling the room along with your muffled whimpers and moans. “Fuck!~” you let out a plaintive cry and pull away from peters mouth when his thumb is added in, stimulating your clit. Rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves as his fingers speed up their movement, making your mouth fall open and your head fall back against his pillows. Your hands tug as well as your leg at his webbing, the action doing nothing to tear or unstick it. A heat spreading through your body, you liked this idea of him tying you up with his webs more than you could’ve guessed, the heat settling and growing in the pit of your stomach.

“Come on baby, i don't think your tryin’ hard enough to break out” he taunts as his long fingers find that spongy spot deep inside you and start abusing it, the rough pad of his tongue speeding up its circles. “Gonna have you cumming before you break the webs princess” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss along the exposed column of your neck. Your head goes fuzzy from his mouth on you, his fingers ruthlessly thrusting inside you, the feeling of him all over you. “Can’t- I can’t do it Pete, i cant break em’ fuck- please baby im gonna cum!” you whine and cry out, your eyes squeezed shut as you teeter on the edge of your climax.

He grabs ahold of your chin and moves your head up the movement forces your eyes open, you stare into his deep brown eyes, his pupils blown.

“Not yet baby, the experiment hasn't gone on long enough, need to see if they break” his voice comes out sweet yet concedesing as he crashes his lips against yours to muffle your wanton moan.

Truthfully Peter had gotten enough information from all your squirming and pulling that he figured it was strong enough, he was just having far too much fun playing with his pretty girlfriend.

→ a/n: i havent written for tasm!peter in a bit so I feel like he’s possibly out of character ? Idk I felt rusty when writing him

[iridescentparkers]

lessons in sexting ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

warnings: very suggestive! (18+)

“PETER!” you exclaimed, and he dropped inside of your bedroom window. You lay on your shared bed where you once waited for him to arrive. He yanked off his mask and crawled between your legs, quickly placing his hand along your waist and head buried in your chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I can never go outside again,” he muffled, turning his face to the side as he remained on your chest. 

“What are you talking about?”

He dug around in his pocket before grabbing his phone and scrolling to find a picture of himself. Lying down, his sight refused to meet yours as his head remained turned to the side, and he raised his phone to your face. “Read the text.” 

The photo was quite…shameful. In the photo, the phone was angled downwards towards the bottom half of his thin, sweaty suit. Peter was unbelievably hard and gripping his erection above the material. The upper half of the photo showed Peter’s teeth gripping his mask, drippings of sweat falling down his face. Underneath it was a text that read, “Baby, I miss you <3” 

“I didn’t get this text-” 

“Look up,” he murmured, and you moved your eyes to see that he sent it to Harry. You couldn’t help but laugh, Peter then groaned into your body and placed his hands on his face. 

“Is business rough these days? I didn’t realize Spiderman offered this kind of service.” You laughed, slamming his phone down on the bed. 

“Please.” he began, “He hasn’t responded 'cause it's late but I know he will never let this die.” 

“I don’t know if I will either!” 

“I missed, you!” He exclaimed. “It was getting boring and hot in that suit.”

“If it helps,” you whispered, running your fingers through his unkempt hair. “You looked good.”

“Really good?” He murmured, moving his eyes up to your face before placing kisses on the top of your breasts.

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, nodding as Peter moved to hover above your body, placing you beneath him as he kissed you deeply. “Really good.”

[lqveharrington]

Double Surprise | R.L.

summary: The Marauders and Lily come over for Christmas Dinner but you and Remus have a little surprise for them all.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: mentions of sex, talks of pregnancy, drinking, sirius and reader acting like siblings, overall just fluff

a/n: this idea came to me randomly 🤷‍♀️ (and it’s not even Christmas time yet??)

Ever since you fell for Remus all those years ago, you knew he was the one you wanted to be with forever. He did as well. You went from talking, to dating, to engaged, and the latest: married. And every single time you fell harder and harder for him.

So it was no surprise that you wanted a child with him. A mini version of your love right beside you. After a long conversation with a worried Remus, you both decided it was time. You were able to soothe his thoughts about the full moon and a baby at the same time which you knew was his greatest worry. He didn’t want to accidentally turn you nor the baby into what he was.

With many nights of trying — although both of you could argue that some of those nights were much more passionate than others — you were finally pregnant with his child. There was no other way to tell your friends about the news except over Christmas dinner, of course.

“How do I look?” You bit the tip of your thumbnail in anticipation, looking at yourself through the mirror hung in the hallway. “Presentable enough?”

It wasn’t like you were scared to tell them… Actually, you were beyond terrified to tell them, especially Lily. She was practically a sister to you at Hogwarts and you always told her everything that happened in your life. And having a baby was the most important news of all.

“Gorgeous as always, dovey.” Remus murmured as he carefully wrapped his arms around you with his hand placed on your stomach, cradling the growing fetus.

You weren’t showing at all. You were barely two months, but you knew he meant it as a comforting gesture. You tilted your head to look at him properly and smiled when he placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You parted and bit your lip softly, smiling even harder as you looked between his eyes. “What was that for?”

“Just admiring the one I love.” He nudged his nose with yours and kissed you once more.

The moment was sweet enough to give you a cavity, but the rapid knocking from your front door caused the both of you to snap out of it. You lean your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a second, letting yourself stay in comfort for a little longer.

Finally — after more aggressive knowing from the door — you sigh and press a loving kiss to his lips. “Get the door, please? I need to check on dinner.”

“You just don’t want get cold.” Remus patted your hip as you sent him a cheeky smile.

“You know me so well.” You blow him an air kiss as you sauntered into the warmth of the kitchen.

But even from the kitchen you could hear the shouts of the people at the door, which amused you beyond all doubt. Sirius — of course — was the loudest voice you could make out. His shouting loud enough for the neighbors to hear over the thickening snow.

“Moony, let us in! It’s freezing!” Sirius shouted as he pounded on the door with his fist, teeth chattering.

The next voice you heard was James. And it was no surprise to you that he used his wife’s name to get Remus to open the door faster.

“You don’t want Evans to freeze, do you?”

Finally, you heard Lily’s voice through the thick door. “It’s Potter now, but we all know I’m still your favorite, Rem!”

You snickered when you finally heard the door unlock and feet stumbling into the warmth of your house. The clunking of boots and your coat rack filled the air as you pulled the food out of the oven.

“Oh, thank Godric.” Sirius immediately collapsed onto the arm chair, propping his feet up toward the fire place. “I couldn’t feel any of my bloody fingers.”

Lily hastily placed her coat into James’ hand before directing her attention to the Welsh man beside her. “Remus, I love you, but I love your wife so much more.”

At that, you perked up and rushed into the living room, colliding with Lily and crushing her in a tight hug. “It’s my favorite Potter!”

“Hey—“

“Says you, Mrs. Lupin.” Lily kissed both your cheek and held you in front of herself to get a better look at your figure.

Thankfully, you wore a comfy sweater that covered your barely showing bump. Lily rubbed your arms, smiling so bright it challenged the sun’s rays. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, face radiating pure joy.

“How did we both get so lucky?” You return her smile and lead her into the kitchen with questions trailing after. “How are you?”

James looked at Sirius and Remus in disbelief, still surprised that the girls left them faster than the speed of light. Remus shrugged and still had a lovesick look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” James propped his coat and Lily’s on the rack and snapped his fingers in front of Remus, sighing when he glared at him.

“Are you sure?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and nudged Remus with his elbow. “It could be fun.”

“You two are so weird.” Remus rolled his eyes and left them to set up the dining table, shaking his head when he heard the two of them bickering as they followed him.

“You’re part of this friend group!”

As the smell of Christmas dinner filled the house — along with chatter from all of you — it was finally time to reveal your surprise to the group. They were merely talking amongst themselves as they ate dinner, oblivious to the glances you kept sparing to your husband.

You were still anxious about how the reveal would go down. Noticing this, Remus brought your hand up and kissed the back of it with a look a reassurance. Now you knew you had to tell them.

“Mm, you know the Longbottoms? They have a child on the way.” Lily drank from her iced tea as she told you the latest gossip she heard since the last time she saw you.

“Really? It seems like everyone we know is.” Sirius swirled his wine around before downing it all in one go.

You grimaced at him, masking your face when he made eye contact with you.

He glanced around at the table and gave you and Lily confused looks, refilling his wine in the process. “Hang on now, how come you,” He pointed a finger toward your figure. “And you,” He then pointed at Lily. “Aren’t drinking wine? Christmas is the best time to drink some.”

“Saving it for the in-laws.” You waved a hand around and did your best not to project nervousness. “Besides, Remus isn’t drinking either.”

Sirius stuck his tongue out at you then quickly retreated when you sent him a dirty glare. He was about to protest when Remus interrupted. Remus knew that you two fought like siblings and it wasn’t needed today.

“Speaking of gifts…” Remus squeezed your hand and grabbed your attention once more. “Dovey got you guys early gifts.”

You nod slowly and clear your throat, letting excitement take over when you saw Lily light up. “We’re going over to his parents’ house for Christmas and I really want to see your reaction to this present. It’s one that can’t that long.”

As you stood up to find the presents for them, Remus guided them over to the living room right in front of the Christmas tree. The three of them sat across the carpet like children on Christmas morning. You handed them their gifts and took a seat next to Remus, his arm naturally moving across your shoulder.

Before Sirius could even tear into his gift, you stuck your hands out to stop him. He frowned and crossed his arms, almost like he was a child.

“Sirius— I want you all to open them at the same time.” You swiftly spoke and fiddled with Remus’ fingers instead, effectively calming yourself down.

All together, the three of them opened their gifts and suddenly, gasps filled the air. Lily and James’ mouths were gaping and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad sign.

“What do you guys think?” You bit the inside of your cheek and leaned your head in Remus’ shoulder, trying to defuse the nervousness creeping up your body.

Sirius huffed and spun the picture a thousand times without looking at the other gift inside. “I can’t tell what it is… What’s written on it?”

“You’re kidding.” James looked between you and Remus before down to your stomach, running his fingers through his hair.

“Really? You’re being so serious right now?” Lily twisted the ends of her tissue paper in excitement, ready to jump all around the room.

“Hey, wait—“ Sirius tried to intervene, still clueless to what the photo was supposed to be portraying.

“Congratulations! The odds of this happening is pretty slim.” James stood and clapped Remus’ back, giving you both happy looks.

Your face twisted in confusion as you looked up at James, Lily trailing right behind. “What do you mean?”

“Me too.” Lily placed a delicate hand on her stomach, making you gasp in return.

“Really?” Your eyes shined brightly, grasping her hands in yours.

“Yeah, just found out a couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged and watched James and Remus converse about the new fatherhood they would embark together.

“Congratulations, Lils!” You giddily exclaimed and pulled her into another soul crushing hug.

Lily laughed in enjoyment. Not only was she happy you were pregnant, but she was overjoyed by the fact you were pregnant as the same time as her. Although you were ahead by a little.

“What is happening?” Sirius whined, throw the paper onto the ground before looking inside the gift once more. Once he found the onesie that said he was going to be an uncle, everything clicked into place. “Ohh…”

“You poor thing.” Remus rolled his eyes before meeting your happy eyes.

You radiated pure joy because of today and he swore that this memory would be etched into his mind forever. No matter what happened, he knew you always had someone to talk to about anything. He pulled your waist and kissed the top of your head, knowing damn well your face was red.

“I’m so happy for you, dovey.” He murmured softly and rubbed your stomach. “I love you more everyday.”

You look up and smile back, “I love you too, Rem.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

[nosyrobin]

Beast boy: Damian, we have something really, really important to tell you about.

(Metal ripping)

Beast boy: Damian?

Beast boy turns to Jon who is not looking at anyone. Wrapping his chest with iron he had found earlier.

Beast boy: Are you wearing iron?

Damian: *slams gun that has a green glow to it* Now, gentlemen, we’re not gonna sit here and pretend there's not an elephant in the room right as of now.

Beast boy: What the fuck is going on?

Damian: This is what the fuck is going on.

damian then slams a photo of you, his beautiful twin sister.

Beast boy looks at the photo of you and then to Jon. Silence rang out loud before a light bulb appeared of the shapeshifter’s head.

Beast boy finally realizing: Oh, shit! Oh, shit! (Laughing hysterically) Oh, shit! No!

Beast boy gets up from his seat and running out of the room.

Beast boy: That is not happening right now! No!

Beast boy runs to the other titans who certainly already kinda figured it out. Especially Raven.

Beast boy: Hey, y'all, he's fucking the demon’s sister! Yo!

Damian: Every time he says that.

Jon looked scared at his suppose friend right if this moment.

Damian: ...that's another bullet in your chest Kent...

[electrosuite]

shower sex with peter plsssss

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex

word count: 774

masterlist

Peter was especially dirty tonight. Being thrown into a puddle of mud that soaked through his suit meant that he was literally caked in dirt and blood. You wound up putting the suit into a trash bag for the time being to avoid it getting everything else dirty, shoving it under your bed so no one found it.

You hated seeing him after a fight, all bruised and bloody. Turns out New York City had a huge villain problem that you didn't know about before you met him.

You watched him in the mirror as he stepped into the shower, even his ass dirty. You stripped yourself bare and followed him in. He was just standing under the water with his eyes closed, sighing of relief at the feeling of the hot water.

You placed your hands on his sides, eventually sliding them all the way around and hugging him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade and he tipped his head back to lean it against your scalp.

You were careful not to hurt him, but you weren't gentle enough. A couple of his ribs had been cracked and were hurting his lungs. But, to be completely honest, your arms around him was welcomed. He needed a hug, especially one from you.

After a few seconds, he turned around to face you. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you gently, water now hitting the back of his neck.

He swapped your positions, putting you under the stream. He slowly pushed you against the wall, the water hitting the top of his head and flowing down your faces.

His hands slid down your body to your ass and he smirked into the kiss. He squeezed a bit and you couldn't hold in the moan that conjured up.

He kissed down your body and didn't stop until he was on his knees, holding your writhing body by your hips.

"Peter," you said softly.

"Hm?"

"Why don't we take a real shower and move this to the bedroom?"

"Mm, I don't wanna."

Immediately, he kissed your clit and you shuddered. He hiked your leg over his shoulder, his other hand on the back of the straight knee.

You didn't feel like trying to persuade him to stop, and honestly any thought you had in your head was gone the second his tongue made contact.

You reached down and tangled your fingers in his wet hair, giving you a better grip on it. It didn't take long for you to be a moaning mess, him having to hold your trembling legs still.

The second he was kissing you again, it was like something took over and he was smushing his face against his. He scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He held you up with one hand — that damn Spider-Man strength — and positioned himself at your entrance with the other.

"Are you hurting?" you asked after he winced a bit.

"Not much. I'm good."

"You sure? I could always just let you take me from behind," you said seductively.

As an answer, he sunk you down onto him and you moaned, laying your head back against the wall. His lips latched onto your neck as he began thrusting, the water hitting where your bodies connected.

You'd only had sex standing once or twice before so you forgot how good it felt for your body to be completely controlled by him. Shoved against the wall, your feet not even on the ground, he could move and fuck you however he wanted to.

But tonight, it didn't seem like he would last much longer. You didn't blame him though, as he never did after he fought bad guys.

You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes, his pupils as big as his irises. Eye contact was always a big turn on for him, so you knew this would get him to cum soon.

"Peter, I want you to cum in me."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. Fill me up." And with that, he was slamming into you, trying to get there quickly. "Fuck, that feels so good."

Within seconds, you felt his warm cum fill you to the brim, dripping out onto the shower floor. You always loved seeing the look on his face when he came — eyebrows pointed up, mouth agape. It was hot as hell.

After a few more kisses, he put you back down on your feet and sat down on the side of the tub on top of the shower liner to catch his breath.

You smirked, washing your hair as you breathed heavily.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues. 

warnings:  boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room. 

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness. 

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge. 

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out. 

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame. 

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic. 

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, “this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand. 

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass. 

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt. 

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain. 

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs. 

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core. 

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free. 

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed. 

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room. 

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step. 

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!” 

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes. 

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile. 

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another. 

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided. 

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?” 

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further. 

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you. 

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water. 

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life. 

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream. 

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you’d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home. 

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine. 

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled. 

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room. 

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room. 

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, “no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.” 

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead. 

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been. 

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?” 

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning. 

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?” 

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own. 

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war. 

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own. 

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.” 

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table. 

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below. 

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.  

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness. 

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks. 

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit. 

“You gotta be quiet.” 

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night. 

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back. 

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side. 

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag. 

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants. 

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again. 

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave. 

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist. 

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth. 

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs. 

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance. 

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second. 

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues. 

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly. 

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window. 

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you. 

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush. 

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out. 

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag. 

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs. 

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option. 

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him. 

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?” 

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye. 

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.” 

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow. 

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry. 

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance. 

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips. 

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt. 

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space. 

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room. 

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.  

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before. 

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage. 

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you. 

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?” 

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm. 

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market. 

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss. 

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him. 

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot. 

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls. 

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock. 

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him. 

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with. 

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue. 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?” 

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.” 

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.” 

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet. 

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets. 

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became. 

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin. 

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down. 

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm. 

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?” 

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping. 

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen. 

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband. 

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room. 

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive. 

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair. 

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide. 

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form. 

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone. 

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?” 

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer. 

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you. 

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours. 

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open. 

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa. 

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist. 

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck. 

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath. 

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?” 

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.” 

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[aurynsia]

Like Real People Do

Remus Lupin x Animagus!Reader

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summary: Fox Animagus!Reader falls in love with Remus after waking up next to him in the hospital wing...

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and scars, reader is fem presenting and referred to with she/her pronouns, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst, only one mention of the other Marauders

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Streams of light trickled down your face, soft skin slick with sweat that reflected the natural glow beaming from the window above. A beating pulse ran through your head, only worsening with every slight move you made to sit up in a bed that wasn’t your own.

You groaned at the feeling of hospital sheets weighing your body down, cascading down your form to pool around your hips as you straightened your back to stretch.

Your body ached with harsh evidence of the night before, and a pained cry bounced around the walls as you twisted and turned. A cry that was not your own.

Blinking once, twice, you turned your attention to the figure sat beside you, positioned to mirror you in a bed adorned with thin sheets that had crumpled under the weight of a restless sleep.

Remus Lupin stared wide-eyed at your torn body after stretching a muscle or two, gaze flickering from your face to the scars trailing down your back. You observed him with a similar curiosity, memorising every cut and tear blessing his soft skin.

“Seems we both got into some trouble, then…” you mused, voice laced with the remnants of sleep. The Gryffindor gazed at you with a shy blush dancing on each cheek, smiling bashfully despite his aching pains.

His gaze fell below yours once again, eyes growing wider before looking away towards his own torso. You followed his previous stare with a puzzled expression before grabbing at the sheets around you to cover your exposed bra, blushing in a deep embarrassment that Remus could only describe as endearing.

“I suppose you also…transform?” He said cautiously, careful to not expose himself as an Animagus if he misjudged you. “Yeah I- transform,” you responded with his own word choice, “Though sometimes I can’t control it, last night wasn’t meant to happen…” you trailed off.

He gave you a pitiful smile, shifting to face you while stretching his arm behind his neck, “I know what you mean, I transform every full moon…” he hints.

Remus was a quiet, caring boy, completely unlike his Animagus form. You had spoken a handful of times before about your shared love for Defence Against the Dark Arts. You had clearly underestimated your overwhelming similarities that you unpicked like the sleeves of an unraveling sweater over the unlikely pillow talk that followed your chance encounter.

You quickly discovered that you were the sly, red fox to his dark, brooding wolf, a fact that made you all the more drawn to the boy. You carefully moved to sit on his hospital bed despite your growing pains, whispering in soft understanding as you both awaited Madam Pomfrey’s dotting care.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A few months later and the leaves have shifted to a golden hue since that bright summer’s morning, only visible under the full moon. You stalked through the forbidden forest, walking in line with Remus’ large dorm.

Aching from a night of battles and mischief, your sleek auburn body began to shift uncomfortably in your pace as you found yourself becoming more human by the minute.

You had grown all but inseparable with the werewolf after that fateful morning, quickly falling into a comfortable routine of tracing each other’s scars while muttering praises of admiration.

The bright moon illuminated your path, your boyfriend’s fierce eyes softened with a lidded gaze under the rays of light.

The sun threatened to tip over the horizon in a mere few hours as you slunk home side by side with the strong wolf. You fought back sleep, foxy red hair shining in Hogwarts’ glow as you clambered along the stone path.

You had never longed for the awkward feeling of hospital fabrics across your aching body as much as you did on this tiring night. Your monthly visits to hospital beds were no longer lonely as you entered hand in hand with the tall boy every time, relaxing under the cooling touch of mattress to skin.

Fully transformed and gripping the walls of the castle, you groaned as you began to sulk in the direction of Madam Pomfrey, as you had done every other treacherous night out.

“L-love, wait a minute,” Remus called in a stutter, “why don’t we just tend to ourselves tonight?”

Stopping in your tracks, you pondered his proposition for a moment, head aching as you turned to look between your boyfriend and the entrance to the hospital wing further down the hall.

“I’ll fix you up while you tend to me. We…we can fall asleep in each other’s arms, just for one night,” he continued to hiss and groan, holding his side with one hand while reaching for you with the other, “Like a- a normal couple…”

Silently, you nodded at the pleading boy with a pained smile, moving into lean against his tall body, adorned with scars. You limped in tow towards the Gryffindor dorms, contact unwavering at his decorated side.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The door to the Marauder’s dorm closed with a soft thud, Remus making sure to not alert his roommates to your arrival.

You tossed yourself onto his bed, closing the surrounding curtains as Remus fetched various remedies from his desk. He slid between the fabric enclosure as you muttered a silencing charm before letting out a pained sigh.

Remus made quick work of your wounds, applying ointment to your bare back before you did the same. The night air pushed a refreshing breeze through the dorm’s open window that shifted the fabric surrounding you like waves over land.

Overwhelmed with relief from the mutual healing, you pushed yourself down to splay across the bed, joining your boyfriend with your head to his pillow.

“We are a normal couple, you know,” you murmured, “well, as normal as we can get. Hospital wing visits will never change that.” Remus gazed into your glossy eyes, slick with sleep. “I know, love, I know. It’s just- nights like these make me want to fall asleep with my girl in my arms, like real people do…”

You hummed at his reply, lips forming a soft smile as you inched closer to the werewolf. “We are real. This is real.” You planted a delicate kiss to his pink lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the contact, in sync with your own.

“This is real.”

You encircled his legs with your own, blending your face with his chest and your hands with the back of his neck. He nuzzled into your hair, muttering sweet nothings as you drifted to sleep.

“I love you, sweet fox,” he spoke softly, only to be met with the quiet snores of his sleeping girlfriend, before joining you in slumber.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[ptergwen]

can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane

three strikes

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 655

warnings: making out, suggestiveness

a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3

winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.

something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.

"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."

despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.

"you're playing with fire, you know that?"

"no, i’m playing with snow."

"oh, that's cute. really cute."

you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.

"you wanna try that again?"

peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.

"kind of."

"what a shame. it'd be strike three."

"what happens after strike three?"

"you wouldn't get this."

peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.

"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"

peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.

"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"

"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."

peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.

"so cute i could eat you up."

"nuh uh."

you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.

"yeah huh."

peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.

"are you done?"

"not even close."

peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.

"pete! what're you doing?"

"i told you, eating you up."

he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.

"don't forget we're in public, mister."

your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.

"i know, they're just love bites."

he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.

"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.

tags (join my new taglist!)

@mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @starlight-starks @belovasheart @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @magicalxdaydream @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @itsjanedeluca @prancerrparkerr @thollandsgirl2013

[michaelceraifhewasagirl]

Stress reliever

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Peter Parker needs to relieve some stress 🤷‍♀️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

W!: harsh language, oral (fem receiving), mature content, MINORS DNI

______________________________________________

Peter storms into her room after school.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, he looks frustrated and tired, the way he asked that question was hastily, almost like he’d been waiting to ask that question since the moment he woke up. 

“Huh?” She questions, she’s taken aback by his words, especially since he was acting completely normal today in school, what had gotten into him?

“Can I eat you out? Please?” He repeats, he looks at her expectantly and she laughs. “Well I’m not gonna turn down that offer” she chuckles and he throws his bag down on the floor of her room, quickly kicking the door shut as he slides off his shoes. “What’s gotten into you? Why do you wanna, well, you know” she questions. He’s never like this, he normally eats her out before sex. It’s never like this.

“I need to relieve some stress” he slips off his hoodie and throws it on the floor before laying next to her on her bed and placing a kiss to her lips. She smiles into the kiss, her heart racing. He fondles with her breast and her hand finds its way into his hair, tangling itself in the silky brown mess.

His hand moves from her chest and trails its way down to her lower stomach pressing lightly. She gasps as she feels his hand on her heat. “Fuck,” she gasps out and pulls away from the kiss. He sits up and crawls in between her legs pulling off her shorts and pressing his thumb against her clothed clit. She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. He looks at her as he slides her underwear off. She can’t help but smile and bite her lip as she sees her boyfriend between her legs. She props her legs up on her feet to give him an easier access to her pussy. He snakes his arms under her legs, resting his large hands on her waist before he buries his head in her pussy, licking and sucking her clit, tasting her juices. 

“Fuck!” She covers her mouth with her hands and her hands snake their way into his hair, pushing down on his head lightly. He emerges from her pussy, lightly rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Can you believe Mr. Harrington sent me to the principals office for showing up to his class late?” He says as he rubs her clit gently. “Ah~”

“Even though this was like, my first time showing up to his class late in, what, two fucking months! He’s so fucking selfish-“ he begins to rub her faster “F-fuck! Ah,” “And not only that, we had to have an emergency Decathlon meeting because Abe forgot to send in our paperwork to qualify for the tournament this year!” He slows down rubbing her clit, but he moves his hand down to her hole, “Ah, oh, gosh!” “So now, fucking Cindy and I have to redo all of the goddamn paperwork!” He pushes a finger inside of her “Oh fuck,” “Abe’s a cunt, I hope he dies. He could’ve just told somebody else to do it” “mm~ mmhm” “Like, if you know you have fucking badminton practice the same time you received the email to do the paperwork, then you could’ve just told Harrington that you had badminton! Can you believe that!?” “Mm~ y-yeah baby, unbelievable,” he begins to quicken the pace of his finger inside of her, and she gasps, “Oh! Gosh! Peter!” “Decathlon has me so tired, M’sorry that I don’t hang out with you much anymore because of it,” “N-No, it’s, ah, it’s f-fine” he sticks another finger inside of her, “Oh! And also, and especially this, is what ruined my day even more! I was in line for lunch and I decided to buy a jell-O, because I don’t usually have enough money to buy it, but they raised the price by 3 goddamn dollars!” “Ah! Fuck,” “I know, right! I wanted to cry, I just wanted some fucking jell-O,” “oh gosh! Peter,”

He quickens the pace of the fingers inside of her and buries his head in his pussy, his tongue circling around her clit, “and the lunch lady told me that I was short, but she basically yelled it out for everyone and their mom the hear!” “Fuck! Peter!” “Oh, sorry” he licks her clit quickly as he fingers her pussy. “Oh! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” “Cum for me baby,” he says as he slurps up all of her juices, and he quickens the pace of his fingers inside of her, “Oh! Ah, I’m, I’m cumming!” Her back arches off the bed as he cums, hot liquid oozing out of her and onto his fingers “good girl,” he praises her as he takes slows down the pace of his fingers and stops licking her.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he praises her as he watches her chest rise and fall, she asks “fuck, how stressed were you?” And he laughs, “did I make you cum that hard?” “Yes! I can’t feel my legs!” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey, I’ll make it up to you” he slips his finger out of her pussy and sucks on them slowly and seductively, as he stares at her, “You’re such a slut!” She says and he laughs, “I can’t help it, you taste so sweet”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am SO sorry for that ending 😭 I could’ve done that better but hopefully you enjoyed the rest of it

—————————————————————————-

[im-sleepdeprived]

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again. 

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him.  The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away. 

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion. 

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged. 

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad. 

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch. 

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it. 

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved. 

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.” 

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place. 

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her. 

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight. 

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already. 

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything. 

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book. 

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving. 

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. 

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you. 

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together. 

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more. 

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter. 

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten. 

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge. 

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly. 

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe. 

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response. 

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird. 

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail. 

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay.  He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start. 

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that. 

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away. 

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay. 

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. 

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again. 

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault. 

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated. 

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you. 

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe. 

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit. 

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home. 

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away. 

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer. 

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead. 

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face. 

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!” 

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again. 

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him. 

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging. 

[iridescentparkers]

Tasm Peter for "can we take a break? I'm enjoying this but need a break" bc we all know Petey can get taken away w his super stamina

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥too much

REMEMBER - FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! you can request a blurb using this list or this one (18+) and add whatever you want to your submission!!! here is the link

warnings - 18+ - light smut

LAZING across your shared bed, the smell of incandescent sex lingering around you both, and Peter’s lips loitered over your own. Cheekily hovering, they waited, impatiently watching as your breathing evened out. 

He was lying above you as you attempted to regain your breath, wiping your finger across the sweat dripping from your forehead. Peter kissed the little indents on your face, stopping at your cheek to nibble on your soft skin. 

Your eyes flutter shut, sleep running to and from you as his kisses put occasional energizers to you. “Peter.”

“Hmm?” 

“Baby, you know I love you.” 

“I do.” 

“And you have been doing so good for me all evening.” You praised as he nodded, Peter faintly whimpering into your ear. “But…”

“But…” he exhaled, and you moved a thumb along his cheek. Peter returns to lazily kissing you.

"Can we take a break?” You giggled between his kisses, Peter’s lips melding so hard into your skin they ghosted as he moved down to your torso. “I'm enjoying this but need a break."

“Already?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed back, pulling his face between your hands as his cheeks squished into your palms. “We’ve both finished three times!”

“And we should finish three more!” Peter exclaimed before kissing along the inside of your wrist and up to the curve of your neck, his hair tickling you across your skin. 

“I want to, but I can’t.” You yawned. 

“All you have to do is lie here,” he begged, stretching his long limbs across the edge of your bed, his brown eyes staring back as he peppered kisses along the inside of your legs. Peter nipped at your skin as he moved to the outside of your opening, his content hums vibrating beneath you. 

“ Peter-“ you whined.

“Okay.” He said, loosely gripping your hips as he laid between your lower half. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Peter raised you to a seated position, sitting next to you at the edge of the bed. “Tomorrow, I promise I’m all yours.”

He watched as your head fell to his shoulder, “Can’t wait.”

[angelfic]

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

© angelfic 2023.

[stevenrogered]

Will the carousel horse be joining us tonight? 

[starksweasley]

Hurt // Remus Lupin

Pairings: Remus Lupin x Reader, Platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, Platonic!James Potter x Reader, Platonic!Lily Evans x Reader

Summary: You have a habit of putting yourself in harm's way, and your friends are tired of it.

Word Count: 1355

Flashes of the moment assault you, vivid and unrelenting. The sharp whistle of the shrapnel slicing through the air, Lily’s piercing scream ringing in your ears, and Remus’ desperate shout of your name, raw and panicked, all play on an endless loop in your mind. The weight of the moment presses down on you, as tangible as the blood-soaked cloth pressed to your side. Pain radiates outward from the jagged wound, a piece of shrapnel—sharp, merciless, and entirely too real—having found its mark. You’re slumped in the common room now, a halo of your friends surrounding you, faces etched with a mix of worry and fury. Sirius is the one holding the cloth to your side. His hands are steady but his jaw's clenched tight, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. His free hand twitches as if he wants to punch something but he restrains himself and focuses on you instead.

“Are you out of your mind?” James’ voice cuts through the tension first, sharp and incredulous. His glasses slide down his nose as he runs a hand through his messy hair, pacing as if the movement might somehow channel his frustration into something productive. “Throwing yourself into the middle of a battle like that? What were you thinking?” He stops abruptly, leaning forward with his hands braced on the back of a chair, his knuckles turning white.

“I was thinking I…” You grit your teeth against the pain as Sirius presses a little harder, his fingers trembling despite his attempts to seem unaffected. “I was thinking I’d rather it hit me than—”

“Than who?” Lily interrupts, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. She’s perched on the arm of a chair, leaning forward, her knuckles colorless where they grip the fabric. “One of us? Merlin, do you think that’s what we’d want? To watch you…” Her words falter, and her green eyes shine with unshed tears. She stands quickly, crossing her arms as if to physically hold herself together.

“I can’t just stand there and let people get hurt,” you say, your voice hoarse. “I won’t.”

“And what about us?” Sirius snaps, finally breaking his silence. He pulls the cloth away for a moment to check the wound, grimacing before placing his wand over it and murmuring a healing spell. The faint glow of magic reflects off his furrowed brow. His voice drops, low and intense. “Do you think we’re not hurt every bloody time you pull this?” His voice cracks on the last word, and his gray eyes flash with something unspoken. His hand moves, almost hesitantly as if he's afraid of hurting you, to brush a sweaty strand of hair from your face before pulling back.

“You’re reckless,” James chimes in, his pacing stopping abruptly as he spins to face you. His hands gesture wildly, his frustration tangible in every movement. “And it’s going to get you killed one day. How do you think we’re supposed to live with that?” His voice breaks slightly, and he drags his sleeve across his face as if wiping away invisible sweat.

“It’s my choice,” you snap back, frustration and pain mixing into a volatile cocktail. Your hands clutch at the edge of the couch, nails digging into the fabric. As the words leave your mouth, a sharp twinge from your injury forces a wince, your body curling slightly as you instinctively press a hand to your side. Remus’ eyes flare at the sight but he doesn’t say anything. His silence, heavy with restrained emotion, hangs in the air like a storm cloud as he watches you with an intensity that sends heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m trying to do what’s right. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” You rasp out.

“There’s a difference between bravery and… and whatever this is,” Lily says, her voice soft but no less cutting. She crosses the room in a few quick strides to kneel in front of you. Her hands hover near yours, unsure whether to comfort or reprimand. Her lips tremble as she finally places a hand on your knee, squeezing tightly. “You’re not invincible.”

“I never said I was!” you shout, the words echoing in the room. The sudden movement pulls at the freshly mended skin, and you hiss through your teeth. Sirius’ hand darts out to steady you, but you angrily shake him off. “I don’t need your help,” you snap, though your voice wavers under the strain. Pain flashes across your face, sharp and unhidden, and you clutch your side as if to anchor yourself. “I’m fine. I can handle it.” But the way your body curls in on itself betrays the truth, and even as the words leave your lips, you can feel the weight of their disbelieving stares pressing down on you.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Remus’ voice is quiet but carries the weight of authority. He’s been silent until now, his brown eyes fixed on you like he’s seeing straight through to your very soul. He steps closer, his movements deliberate, his presence steadying. He crouches down beside you, his hand brushing lightly against your thigh before settling there. “That’s enough,” he repeats, softer this time.

“But she…” James starts, but Remus cuts him off with a sharp look that has even James faltering.

“That’s my girl,” Remus says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “Don’t speak to her like that.” His gaze moves over the others, daring anyone to argue. The protective edge in his voice sends a ripple of stunned silence through the room.

“She’s hurt,” he continues, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “And if you lot keep yelling, she’s going to hurt herself more trying to argue back.” His gaze softens as he looks at you, his expression a mix of exasperation and tenderness. “Love, you have to stop doing this.”

Your eyes droop at the word—love—spoken so earnestly, so vulnerably. It’s enough to pull the fight out of you, leaving behind only the raw edges of your exhaustion and pain. Remus reaches out, brushing his knuckles gently along your jaw before cupping your face, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns over your cheekbones.

“I can’t stand by and watch my friends get hurt,” you whisper, your voice cracking. Your hands move instinctively to grip his, seeking comfort in the warmth and solidity of his touch.

“And I can’t stand by and watch you get hurt,” Remus replies, his hands cupping your face now, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have started to fall. “We all love you. We need you. And if you keep throwing yourself in harm’s way like this, you’re going to break us.”

The room falls silent, the weight of his words settling over everyone like a blanket. Sirius exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. He shifts closer, his hand finding your shoulder in a rare moment of stillness. James’ shoulders sag, the anger draining out of him as quickly as it had flared up. Even Lily’s rigid posture softens, her hands reaching out to squeeze yours gently, her touch a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. The tears come faster now, and Remus pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly as if he could hold you together through sheer force of will. His chin rests lightly on the top of your head, his voice a murmur against your hair.

“You’re my whole heart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “And I’m not going to lose you. Not any time soon.”

The others close in around you, their presence warm and reassuring. Sirius settles himself on the arm of the couch, his hand now resting against your back, rubbing comforting circles. James drops onto the floor beside Lily, his head falling into his hands as if the argument has drained him completely. Lily leans against him, her free hand still clasping yours. The argument is over, but the love they all feel for you lingers in the room, a silent promise that they’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe—even from yourself.