#i asked him will you get me a game and he said probably why | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mewhenimanangel · 3 days ago

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need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—��

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

#hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #martin and hamzah #hamzah imagines #hamzahsmut #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic #thatmartinkid #slushy virus #slushy noobz

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1d1195 · 1 day ago

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Pucking Rookie IV

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: slow burning!!!

Warnings: ANGST violence. CW: Signs of abuse.

Summary: Harry is very hot. Very sweet. VERY protective.

“Hey everyone,” she greeted brightly. “How’s everyone today?” She asked while setting down a tray of eight glasses and two pitchers of water on the table.

“Wonderful, baby, so excited to have you.”

She nearly knocked the glasses over (fortunately, since they were water glasses, they were only plastic). She made eye contact with him and felt her heart completely stop for a few beats. Kael smiled wickedly in return.

Fuck.

She kept her smile in place. “What can I get you to drink?” She asked. After eight years, she already knew what he wanted so she focused on his teammates.

“We were hoping to see The Chargers tonight,” Kael told her. “Do they come here often?”

She didn’t respond. “We have a few specials tonight, so if you have any questions, please let me know,” then she sauntered away to place the drink order.

“Already know what I want, baby?” He called. “That’s so sweet!”

She ignored him. Taking deep breaths she headed to the kitchen. Louis wasn’t in yet. Harry didn’t know she was working. Which meant the rest of the team thought she wasn’t working too. Marc and Michael probably had their suspicions that she was with Harry. So, no one knew she was there. Not really.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was probably just going to be an hour. He had his team with him. It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Yeah, he would probably tease and torture her for the better part of that hour, but she could be civil. She could pretend. She had for ages. He didn’t know she was working for The Chargers—she was sure he had an idea that she might be. But the afternoon set it in stone.

He was such a dick. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since she moved out. Everything about him made her skin crawl and she hated it. Every touch and kiss between them seemed tainted now. All those good memories, dates, hockey games, everything felt ruined. Each interaction was colored now with the hindsight that he didn’t love her. Not the way she did. Not the way she expected him to love her for ever and ever. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She knew she didn’t deserve that.

So why did he make her feel undeserving of it ever again?

Kael and his teammates came and went fortunately. Just as she predicted. Only a little over an hour. She refrained from speaking directly to Kael and focused on the group as a whole.

When Kael left, she was well past the feeling of relief. There should have been a stronger word for how liberated she felt. She used the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a moment to process everything. It was just like Kael to come in and make her feel like shit without even trying. Louis was supposed to be in, so at least she had that going for her.

“Hey love,” Louis called. “Everything good?” She probably looked a little shaken, so she wasn’t surprised he asked. She felt shaken.

“Good,” she smiled assuredly. She flitted around the room, ducked behind the bar, and went about her day. It was a busy night, and she wasn’t going to let Kael sour her shift that he had next to nothing to do with. So she didn’t. The next hour ticked on quickly and she was feeling more herself as the time stretched between Kael’s departure and the present.

“Hi baby,” he cooed.

Her arms felt numb almost instantly, she was lucky she didn’t drop her tray. Her fight or flight swept her and just made her freeze. She turned as she had earlier in the day and looked at him. “Hi,” she said curtly. He was alone, which made her nervous.

“I figured you must get a break soon. I’d like to talk.”

“Not for a while. And it’s busy,” at least that wasn’t a lie. “So I might not take one tonight.”

Louis was hurrying about from kitchen to back room, to front of house. It was busy as it could be, but she wanted to keep an eye on him. If Kael got her alone, she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her emotions as well as if she had someone that knew she was not in a situation she wanted to be in just by looking at her. Louis wasn’t Harry, but he would know all the same that she was uncomfortable.

Kael smiled brightly.

Well, at least someone that cared ifshe was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait,” he offered.

“Great,” she deadpanned.

She went to the back room and wished that there was a group of Chargers there. If she called any of them, she knew they would break curfew and be there for her in a heartbeat. The thought of Kael anywhere near her would make Callie incensed for ruining her day. Niall would be protective in his own way and focused on her. Asher and Lang would get her away from The Locker Room and make sure Kael never set foot there again.

She could hardly imagine what Harry would do to him.

But she lied. She told Harry that she wasn’t working. The routines the boys had had in place prior to her arrival with the team had been disrupted more than she ever anticipated. It was nice they cared but it wasn’t fair to them to upheave their lives for her. She was just the photographer for the team. Their coach’s niece. They didn’t ask to have someone they needed to babysit.

She was an independent, self-sufficient person.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked.

She nodded and flitted around the room taking order and tried not to think about the feeling of Kael’s stare on the back of her head.

It was perhaps another hour, and Kael was true to his word in staying put. Fortunately, The Locker Room remained steadily busy. She didn’t have to lie about not taking her break. She foisted him off on another waiter who grew a little tired of him asking for her each time he went over. “Baby,” he snatched her hand as she went by.

She pulled away. “Kael, I’m busy,” she marched away before he could reach for her again.

Without warning a multitude of memories where he snagged her hand over the years filtered through her mind. His grip tight on her arm or hand. Never in a way that any outsider would notice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself. She was going to call Harry. His wrath would be well worth it. At least Kael was scared of Harry and the team. Especially if he was outnumbered. She was shaking a little as she headed for the kitchen hoping to catch Louis at least.

“Hey,” Kael said grabbing her again as she passed too close to his table. This time he caught a real hold of her arm and pinned it to the table. To any other onlooker it would look like he was just keeping her in place holding onto her hand in almost a romantic kind of way. No one would see how his fingers dug into her skin, how she was feeling the ache of the hard wood against her knuckles and wrist bone like she just lost an arm-wrestling contest. “I just want to talk.”

She wanted nothing less. “Hey, Louis!” She called quickly and loudly enough so that he would be able to hear her over the din of the whole place regardless of where he had gone off too.

Within seconds Louis was there from the back room.

Harry was right beside him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her arm on the table. Her mouth popped open in shock. She had no clue he was there. Most obviously, she didn’t want him to see this. “Oh fuck,” she whispered and tried to pry her hand away from Kael’s. She squirmed slightly as he refused to release her. He cupped his other hand gently on top of her arm trying to get her to stop.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here. He was only supposed to come to her rescue because she couldn’t figure out what else she was to do. She was going to hide in the kitchen and wait.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be around Kael.

“Styles,” Kael practically sang. He didn’t release her arm. “Didn’t know you were here. Tough loss today. I hope it’s the same tomorrow, to be honest.”

He didn’t take the bait. His nostrils flared. “Let go of her hand Crowe,” Harry snarled stepping closer to him.

“We were just talking, right baby?” Kael smiled and took his free hand to cup the side of her face. She turned her face away and brushed it away from her skin.

Harry continued to approach him—up close and personal. If they were on the ice the cages of their helmets would have been touching. “Let her go, right fucking now,” his shoulders were heaving.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. Harry didn’t even acknowledge her.

Was he trying to keep it together? Not make a scene, maybe? Harry was quick to anger—like most hockey players. He probably would have torn Kael limb from limb by now if this wasn’t a local place where fans and the rest of the team went.

“Let go of her,” her he repeated, his voice was so deep. His body shaking.

“Harry, I’m fine—”

He ignored her still and Kael continued keeping her in place despite her squirming. She wanted to whimper as he squeezed her tighter and pressed her hand harder into the table. To the untrained eye, you wouldn’t know. But Harry was watching like this was his favorite movie and they were at the climax of the plot. He saw the way she winced and her body bend slightly as he pressed harder. “Mind your fucking business, Styles,” Kael shook his head. “This doesn’t involve—”

“She is m’business. Especially when you’re fucking hurting her,” the whole bar area went silent as they realized one of their favorite celebrities was about to punch the lights out of one of the best names in hockey. “If y’don’t let her go, m’gonna rip your hand off, Crowe. And m’gonna enjoy it,” he promised shaking his head. “Let go of her.”

She wanted to move more but was utterly terrified. Harry could get in serious trouble. Kael wasn’t particularly dangerous, but his grip was making her whole arm ache. Harry’s threat made her stomach swoop; he was so ready to protect her. Of course that was nice, but she wanted to cry. Hurting one of the top professionals in the league (even if Harry was also at the top) was a great way to get a hefty suspension and fine if he was caught.

Just another way she was going to upend his perfectly normal, happy life.

“Harry, stop,” she begged.

“Yeah, Harry, stop,” Kael mimicked. But she inhaled sharply, pulling and moving again uselessly to try and get away from the grip he had on her wrist. She whimpered despite herself as the pain continued. “Mind your business Harry,” he snarled. “M’talking to my girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Stop fucking touching her, Crowe.”

“She’s mine. I’ll do whatever I want to her.”

Harry stared at him, his gaze flicking to her wrist still pinned to the table. She was still squirming, looking to get away. Louis reached for her and Harry put his hand on his chest and pushed him away. He walked to the bar, grabbed a shot of whatever the bartender was pouring. His head tipped back as he sucked the liquid down. The quiet clink of his glass hitting the bar was the only sound in the room. Silently, Harry plucked the rings he wore when he wasn’t playing hockey off his fingers. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket. It felt like the seconds were ticking by in slow motion. Not even the pain from Kael’s tight grip on her hand was enough to draw her attention away from Harry’s movements.

She swallowed, her eyes pleading with Harry not to do it. It wasn’t that bad. She could take it. The pain she was feeling now was hardly anything in comparison to what he could do. This was nothing.

“One more time, Crowe... Let go. Of her,” Harry’s voice was even. Measured. It had the tone of I’m not asking again.

“She’s mine, Styles. Find someone else to stalk.”

Harry smirked, shook his head, and his eyes flickered to hers for only a second. Then they were back on Kael. “Oh. No. No she’s very much not yours.”

As slow as the seconds had ticked by, they all came rushing back at full speed; maybe time even sped up. Harry delivered a lightning-fast punch to Kael’s nose causing him to gasp and drop her hand as he instinctively reached for his face. With the toe of his boot, Harry tipped his chair before Kael could get his bearings, and he fell flat to his back. The chair broke into pieces with his weight. He gasped, trying to right himself and protect his nose from bleeding everywhere. Harry reached down before Kael could get a grip. He yanked him up by the collar and front of his shirt. A stupid, ugly orange and blue sweatshirt that Harry was delighted to wrinkle hard in his hands. Before Kael was barely on his feet, Harry hauled him backward. Shoved him hard into the bar so the edge dug into his spine, no doubt. Without pause, Harry delivered a solid punch to his cheek, a heel stomp to his foot, and knee to his stomach.

Kael bent forward, gasping for air and Harry’s breathing was as even as if he was sleeping.

Her hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach as she tried to hold herself together. Everyone looked in pure shock. Surely someone was supposed to try and stop Harry. Even if he was a hockey player for the town that everyone loved. But given he incapacitated Kael in a matter of thirty seconds it wasn’t like anyone wanted to try and stop him. Even Louis was speechless and looked in horror. “Are y’gonna touch her again?” He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong answer as Harry twisted him in an instant, pressing his face down into the bar, pulling his arm back behind his body. “I said, are y’gonna touch her again?”

“No,” he rasped.

“M’letting y’keep your hand. Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped and shoved him a final time into the bar. He dropped a few hundreds on the bar for the damage and his drink. “Louis, keep the change,” he muttered over his shoulder without sparing another glance at Kael. “S’time t’go, Bunny,” he murmured lowly for no one else to hear but her. He placed an arm around her waist, and tugged her toward the exit. Every pair of eyes followed them.

“B-but m-my shift—”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and stuffed it in the front pocket of her apron. “Let’s go,” he repeated and ushered her outside.

Harry opened his passenger door and gestured for her to get in.

She looked nervous, which made Harry uneasy. This strong, brave woman who bantered with unruly hockey players and dealt with fans and drunk patrons looked a bit lost. “What about my car— I mean... your other—”

“Get in the car, Rookie,” he ordered.

She followed his direction. Harry waited until she was safely buckled inside before closing her in. He locked the door for the short walk around his car, only unlocking it so he could slip inside. Once seated and buckled, he turned the car on and immediately exited the parking lot. After driving in silence for several moments Harry dropped his hand on her thigh like it was an instinct.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. Which was kind of him, because how could she be? Her heart was thudding in her chest, her wrist hurt, and her brain was a mess. Harry’s hand on her leg should have made her uncomfortable given he didn’t ask. But it was almost too comforting, and she dreaded the idea that he would have to let go of her eventually.

“Don’t y’dare cry over him, bunny,” his voice was tight.

She sniffled, not realizing she was, in fact, crying. She swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered looking toward the window.

Harry shook his head and sighed. His hand squeezed her leg while he pressed his head back into the seat hard—if the head rest wasn’t there and he didn’t have to watch the road, she was certain his eyes would be facing the ceiling of his car, searching for strength somewhere above him. His jawline seemed sharper than ever as he clenched his teeth. “Y’don’t have t’apologize.”

“Thank you,” she croaked quietly. “For doing that, I...” she swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I would have done,” she admitted. The scenario didn’t seem to play out in full if Harry wasn’t there. Yeah, Louis would have helped, but this was different. Harry didn’t say anything. She pulled his wallet out of her apron and placed it in one of the cup holders between them. “I don’t want—”

“It’s yours.”

“Harry, it’s not that—”

“Bunny, I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you all afternoon. Since I met you, really. I can’t stop. I used t’think ‘bout nothing but hockey. But s’like you’re the only thing on m’mind now. M’happy when I see you around the rink taking pictures. M’happy when y’try t’skate on m’pond. I love our lessons, and I want t’have y’in my house all the time. M’happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve been in years, and I didn’t even know I wasn’t completely happy. I can’t have one-night stands anymore. I tried, I did. You’re a long shot. I know that. Someone who deserves a guy so much better than a hot-tempered hockey player as evident by the piece of shit that hurt you in so many ways,” His voice is quiet. “S’not a secret I like you. A lot. If we can only be friends and roommates—because m’sure as hell not bringing y’back to that sorry excuse of an apartment—then s'what I’ll do.”

There was only a brief beat of silence while she contemplated all he said. “I worked really hard on my apartment,” she whispered.

This seemed to soften him a little. He sighed. “It’s adorable, Bunny. It is. But m’constantly worried you’re going t’be kidnapped, robbed, or worse. You can move in this week,” he insisted. “I have the day off after tomorrow and I was going t’spend it at the gym t’lift with the guys so we can pack and move your shit all the same instead.”

“Harry, I don’t think that will work... I have to pay out the rest of my lease if I move out early.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed. She didn’t say anything. Because she kind of agreed that it was bullshit. But she couldn’t move in with Harry. Not when he just admitted he liked her the way she did. It set her heart into a dramatic flutter. Being legally bound would hopefully be enough of a reason for Harry to agree to let her stay until her lease ran out. Then she could figure out her next steps. “Fine,” he decided after a moment. “The black debit card in m’wallet will take care of it.”

She snorted unable to hide her shock. “Harry, you can’t—”

“M’done arguing with you ‘bout this, Bunny.” She frowned and looked at her hand, turning her wrist and wincing ever so slightly. “Is your wrist okay?” He asked.

She shrugged and answered instinctively. “It hurts; but I’ve had worse,” she gasped at her own mistake almost instantly. “Oh fuck, I mean—” she stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Harry saw through it and understood exactly what she meant. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and he swallowed. The bob in his throat looked like he was drinking a glass of nails.

“Did he ever hurt you like this before?” Harry’s voice was an octave lower than she ever heard it. His eyes narrowed as he stared forward.

She didn’t want to make matters any worse, so she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For several seconds, the car seemed so silent it was as if the tires weren’t even on the ground anymore or if she was breathing.

“Harry,” she whispered eventually.

Harry took a deep breath not liking the tone of her voice and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are we— Harry!”

Before she could understand what was happening, Harry was outside and opening his trunk and the car doors locked her inside. Instantly, he pulled out one of the back-up sticks he had in case his two in the locker room broke in the middle of a game (or if he wanted to practice while he was home on the pond out back). He slammed it hard on the pavement multiple times grunting as he did until the stick snapped. Then he grabbed a second and repeated this process again, swearing and cursing like he was imagining Kael was under the stick.

Once satisfied with his destruction, he collected the broken pieces and dropped them in the back before sitting in the driver’s seat again, his breathing only slightly elevated.

She stared at him wildly. Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “If he touches you again, m’killing him,” he said simply. It was a promise. His breath was heavy from the exertion.

She nodded; Harry put the car in drive and continued back toward his place. His hand went right back on her thigh, which she still found comforting and warm, even though she had only had the luxury of his hand on her for no more than a few minutes. “Okay,” she whispered hoping there wouldn’t be an again to speak of.

Harry let the silence linger again. “My apartment is the other way,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I just told you, Rookie, y’not living there anymore.”

“Oh my God, Harry. You can’t be serious.”

He snorted. “No. I am. As a heart attack.”

“Harry I can’t move in—”

“Of course, y’can. I have like five bedrooms. Pick one. Pick three for all I care.”

She swallowed. “What if I pick your bedroom?” She was attempting to lighten the mood, maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was trying (and failing) to be annoying. But Harry was never annoyed by her. He was amused at worst. She was adorable. Every little thing she did was adorable.

“Then it’s yours,” he shrugged. He was hardly home during the season anyway. With his niece, Mum, and Gem out of town, he wasn’t home much in the off-season either. He could easily move into another room if she wanted his. In fact, he probably would give her his room. It wasn’t the only one with a bathroom, but it had a nice tub that he knew was being wasted without proper use and it felt like she deserved a relaxing night to soak in the tub until she got pruney and everything else that stressed her in her life disappeared.

“I thought you didn’t bring women home to stay,” she reminded him.

“Never had one that I wanted t’bring home,” he shrugged.

She pressed her head to the window. He was quick. Didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay tonight, but I’m not moving in. My uncle is going to kill you.”

He shrugged. “S’a long line of Glacier Wolves who’ll want t’kill me before him.” She giggled softly under her breath. Harry glanced at her peripherally and smirked at the little smile that graced her lips. “M’niece is over a lot in the off season,” he told her. “Gem and Mum come by too. So s’had women there before.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then, yeah. Never had a woman I wanted to bring home,” he repeated. Harry parked in his driveway, turned to her, his hand still on her thigh and honestly, she never wanted it to move.

“Are we still friends?” She blurted. He just admitted he liked her. It was no secret she liked him too. It could make things very awkward going forward so she wouldn’t blame him if he really didn’t want to be friends any longer.

“What a weird fucking question, Rookie,” he shook his head.

“Can you just tell me?”

“Yes, we’re still fucking friends. Despite the fact I would love t’be more.”

She closed her eyes. “He really fucked me up, Harry,” she whispered. “He... he wanted some trophy girlfriend that doted on him and worshipped him for being a good hockey player. He didn’t want me to be my own person. He didn’t want me to have my own hobbies or interests. Like I was nothing, a nobody—”

“Rookie,” he whispered.

“—and I just let him treat me that way. Because it was easier than confronting it—”

“Rookie.”

“—So I don’t want to keep falling for you because you... you’re so talented and you will overshadow me and you should. But it’s so fucking cold living in the shadow of someone else and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He winced. “Bunny,” he wanted her to stop.

“I don’t love that nickname either,” she sighed. “I want to. It’s cute and it’s even cuter when you say it. But the connotation of being a puck bunny is just more of what Kael insinuated and I don’t—”

“I don’t think you are a puck bunny. S’not why I call you that. Y’wrinkle your nose like a bunny when y’concentrate. S’the first thing I noticed when I met y’taking pictures rink-side. And you’re always going and going like the little Energizer bunny. But mostly, s’because you’re so fucking cute like a bunny. S’honestly nearly nauseating sometimes.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed trying to keep all the feelings of falling for another hockey player at bay. “So, I make you sick?”

He smiled. “Excessively.”

“And you want me anyway?”

“Excessively,” he whispered cupping her face. She leaned into the touch, closed her eyes, and sank into the way his hand caressed her cheek for a moment.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. “You probably know that he cheated on me,” she reminded him. “And the worst of it, I don’t know if it was the first time, and I don’t want to know. Because I already felt stupid for letting him belittle me and letting me forget parts of myself.”

Harry tilted his head back fully staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah...” And now Harry knew this wasn’t the first time he had hurt her either. Whether it was intentional or not.

“And...” she swallowed. “I don’t think you’re like him... if you take anything away from this conversation, please know that I think you’re nothing like him. You’re up front about most of everything. He kept things from me. But... you’re you and you could have any woman you want in any city you want. I don’t fault you for that—I really hope you know that... but I don’t want to be a number anymore, Harry. I don’t want to feel like an idiot, and I don’t think you would intentionally make me feel like an idiot but—”

“Bunny,” he interrupted, turning back to gaze into her eyes so intensely it felt like everything around them disappeared except for the space between them. The seriousness in his green eyes made her stomach flip. They seemed darker. Like the color was changing to a darker shade to explain how serious he was and how he meant every word that spilled from his mouth. “I think you’re brilliant,” he whispered. “In every facet of your life. I’ve thought about nothing but hockey m’whole life. It has been eat, sleep, and breathe ice, pucks, and sticks. The second I met you, every thought has been ‘bout you,” he reminded her. “If I never played another game of hockey, I really think I would be okay s’long as y’were around.”

Her heart felt like it was broken and whole all at the same time. It was too sweet. She bit the inside of her lip. “Well, I don’t want that,” she whispered. “You’re quite good,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “The point remains, Rookie... I want you t’have everything y’could possibly want. I want t’do anything I can t’help y’achieve anything y’want t’do.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t believe you went to get a drink.”

“I really didn’t think y’would be there... was hoping I’d run into Louis and maybe he would know if y’were okay. Y’never answered my texts. Didn’t tell me y’made it home.” he frowned. “Why did y’lie t’me, Bunny?”

She took a deep breath. “The whole team has been so nice to me,” she whispered. “I’m not really used to that...” she trailed off. “Callie got so many penalties, you had to interrupt your post-game cool down to walk me to your car, everyone wants to take shifts to watch me... you have to drive me home, give me one of your car... I’ve seriously disrupted your lives... and it was all just too much today. I don’t want to bother you guys. You didn’t sign up to have a kid or a pet you need to watch. Uncle Charlie didn’t have to give me a job with a hockey team. I feel like I didn’t earn anything. It’s so sweet that all of you care, but it’s weird for me...”

God, she was cute. Even sad she was cute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Y’haven’t disrupted our lives,” he promised. “We’d do this for anyone.”

“That’s comforting I suppose.”

“C’mon, s’late... we have a game tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Course, Rookie,” he squeezed her leg one more time and then got out of the car. (As she predicted, she hated the feeling of Harry’s hand anywhere else but her thigh.)

Entering his house, Harry kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. She texted her group chat with Michael and Marc as she flopped onto the couch until she got more direction from Harry.

I’m at someone’s house for the night so don’t worry about me.

Michael reacted to her message with a thumbs up.

It better be a HOT hockey player.

Michael reacted to Marc’s message with a thumbs down.

Good night, Marc!

I want every INCH of detail

That earned a vomiting emoji from Michael. I do NOT want any details.

GOOD NIGHT MARC

Harry hated that he had a big house. If they were at her apartment, they could have been squished in her bed right then. She wouldn’t be down the hall and half of Harry’s mattress wouldn’t have felt so cold. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, his phone vibrated almost immediately. Like she somehow knew he was awake.

Are you awake?

M-hmm

Can we get breakfast, please?

Harry would throw himself down a set of stairs for her if she asked. “You could jus’ come in here t’ask,” he called.

“I’m creating boundaries!” She answered from a guest room. “Besides this bed is comfy and I don’t want to get up,” she giggled.

“Well, I don’t want boundaries,” he grumbled to himself. He wondered if she slept without pants on. Not that it mattered. He was turned on by the thought of her naked in his bed or if she was in a full snow suit.

“What did you say?” She called.

“Nothing,” he grumbled and pressed the palm of his hand over the front of his shorts willing the blood to rush anywhere but his dick at the thought of her in a goddamn snow suit. “I just have t’shower,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she sighed, and Harry could picture her snuggling herself further into the mattress. Maybe it was for the best she was in another room. If she was there looking all cute and cuddly on his bed, he would have to quit hockey. He would probably spend the rest of his life worshipping her on his mattress in every possible way.

Plus, his dick would never be anything but hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” he sighed to himself under the spray of the warm shower. He tried to think about anything but her pretty self in the other room. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes. She was probably changing into her uniform from the night before, so at least he wouldn’t see her in the shirt and shorts he gave her to wear for bed.

He shook his head and focused on shower and not what it would feel like to press her against the tile or—

“Fuuuuck,” he touched his forehead against the tile. Hockey. Defense. Goals. Niall. That’s good. Niall, gross. Callie—FUCK Callie. Asher owes me ten dollars for betting Lang wouldn’t say “good effort” in their pool game the other day.

His shower took twice as long to shower because he had to actively think about something other than his pretty friend. Once he was out, he slipped into a pair of sweats and one of his long sleeve practice shirts. As he put on his deodorant, he realized it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize what she was doing as he got dressed. “Rookie, you are not,” he called as he hurried down the hall.

“Not what?” She asked innocently.

“Doing my dish—Rookie, what the hell!”

“They were just there! And I was bored, Harry. Plus, you didn’t say I couldn’t!”

“I told you last time.”

“Well yeah, but that was last time.”

“Please stop,” he begged and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed t’be going t’breakfast.”

“Well, I figured while you took two years to get ready,” it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes max but maybe his effort to not think about her in his shower took longer than he thought, “I would make myself useful,” she shrugged and set the final dish on the drying rack beside his sink. She turned the water off and ran the dishtowel over the counter and edge surrounding the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. Her black and silver uniform top for The Locker Room was on her again. Her leggings from the night before clung to her legs like a second skin.

He wondered how she could look so cute after working a hectic, busy shift, then slept all night and it barely looked like she had a hair out of place. “What?” She asked looking down at her shirt. “Do I have something on this? We’ll have to stop at my apartment first if I do. I’m not going out with you to breakfast when you look hot and I look like trash,” she frowned.

He snorted. “Y’don’t look like trash, Rookie.”

“Well, do I smell or something?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Stunning really,” he shrugged one shoulder and reached out to touch her face. He skimmed his thumb along her cheek wishing he could lean in and kiss her until they were both breathless. He smiled softly enjoying the way her cheek warmed under his touch. For someone so snarky, she was awfully shy. “Let’s go,” he tilted his head toward the main hallway. He made his way before she could read into it as he was sure she was wont to do.

Harry opened her passenger door and smiled wickedly at her as she got in. “What?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together.

“You think I’m hot,” he sang.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Harry chuckled, closing her inside.

Kael didn’t play because he was injured. The report sustained it happened at practice the day before but everyone on The Chargers bench knew. Kael kept his gear on but moved to the end of the bench for the starters and lines of his teammates that would be playing. He hardly cheered, hardly moved.

The rest of The Wolves sent death glares to everyone on the team. Harry was checked into the boards more times than he could count. But every time he caught sight of the pretty photographer twirling her wrist in between photos, he felt grateful for each hit. She continued to take pictures, placing her camera into the cutouts of the glass around the ice.

Kael hid from pictures from his own media specialist, the news outlets, and even the fans during the game and in between periods.

“Coward,” Asher growled as they left the ice and headed to the locker room at the end of the game. The group that typically resided in the back of The Locker Room was livid when they found out from Harry that Kael hurt her. They too must have seen the way she twisted her wrist around between pictures. Harry wondered if she noticed she was doing it. It ate at him that it wasn’t the first time that piece of garbage hurt her. There was nothing Harry could do—well, maybe if he ever did figure out time travel, he could. But for now, he could take the hits from Kael’s stupid team and make sure the pretty photographer was okay.

Besides.

He may have had a tough game physically, but Harry was truly on cloud nine.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Lang called from the front of the line heading back toward the locker room.

“I’m good!” She answered.

Harry didn’t even care that Niall was walking alongside her and not him. Or that Callie gave her arm a squeeze when he walked by. It didn’t bother him that Asher was as irate as him either.

Because the word Styles was on her body. It was purposeful. If Kael paid attention, he would see it. He would know she supported Harry, regardless of how outlandish it was (or wasn’t) that he defended her last night. Harry knew the second he saw it, that Kael was going to look at the pretty girl with his number on her and start fuming in his seat. Maybe that’s why his team aimed for him so vehemently throughout the game as well.

Whatever, Harry could take it.

It was well worth it to see his name on her jersey.

Harry realized it was his time to shine after they went out for breakfast. He drove her to get her car at Louis’. He followed her home to the shady apartment building. He wasn’t in the mindset to leave her for any bit of time given the night before. Maybe not for a good few days either if he had it his way. They had away games coming up so they would be all but trapped together on a plane, a bus, and in a hotel so that was in his favor.

He really hoped she would be in a nearby room at the hotel. Or better yet, there wouldn’t be enough rooms, and he could share his with her.

“Why’d you choose eleven?” She asked when she came out of her room after getting ready. She was fluffing her pretty hair and tugging at the hem of the jersey that she had put on. It took a moment to register in Harry’s mind that she was talking to him and was anticipating a response. In her mind, it was no big deal that she was nonchalantly wearing his name and number. That she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The sweetest person he knew.

He swore his heart skipped a beat as his vision refocused on the lovely girl wearing his name on her back.

He cleared his throat. “S’the first number I ever got,” he shrugged. “But now I say m’so good, m’number twice.”

She grinned and laughed quietly under her breath as she put earrings on with The Chargers logo. “I like that. You are very good. I’ve seen a lot of hockey myself. I like to think I’m a good judge of ability.”

When Harry was younger, he thought if he could have a superpower, he would want to time travel. As he got older it changed a bit, he wanted super strength so he could be the strongest hockey player. Read minds so he could predict the movements of opponents on the ice. Since he met her, he returned to the tried and true: if he could time travel, he could figure out twenty seconds after he kissed her if she hated him or kiss him back, he would have done it right then.

He smirked. “So m’the lucky one today?” He asked pulling on the sleeve.

“I don’t know, does wearing someone’s jerseys constitute as lucky for the day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, very much so, Rookie.”

“Then sure; you’re very lucky, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. He turned away slightly and caught sight of a string of pictures on her little kitchen bar. “What’s all this?” He asked, picking up a photo and inspecting it. It was one of the ones she took while Harry was practicing before the rest of the team showed up. Another photo she got laying down on the ice of Callie’s skates when Harry wanted to rip his teammate’s arm off for holding her so close that day. One from Niall’s empty net. Another of Asher’s locker, his jersey on display. A close up of the C on Lang’s jersey. One of just the empty rink—no fans, no players, nothing.

“Oh... I don’t know,” she looked away shyly piling them together. “I was playing with the idea of making a series of photos,” she flipped one over to indicate the back showed the number three in the line. “You guys are attractive and stuff, but I thought there was a lot of beauty in the little things behind the bench, you know? It’s not just fights and points. The rink is so pretty,” she shrugged.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could stack any more of them away. He looked at each of the pictures painstakingly selected from the hundreds of photos she took each day. The way the light shone off a helmet, the way a shadow fell on the bench. “They’re beautiful, Bunny. Why don’t y’do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it a series?”

She shook her head. “No... I don’t know. Not many people care about sports photography,” she shrugged. “Not like this anyway.”

“Rookie, I think every team owner and manager in the league would pay t’have this set in their arena.”

“No way, there’s not a single headshot of a star player. In sports, the only thing that really sells by far is you guys and your pretty faces,” she patted his cheek. “It’s tragic, I have some incredible photos of a few baseball diamonds at sunset. But there’s no fans and no players so it just wouldn’t sell well.”

“Show me,” he urged.

She sighed and put her jacket over “We’re going to be late, Harry. Uncle Charlie is already going to be annoyed with me that I’m wearing your jersey. And so will the rest of the team.”

“They all had their turn, Rookie, y’made me wait forever,” he grumbled. They didn’t have to be annoyed. They didn’t have a crush on her the way Harry did. They all knew that. His teammates were his family, but they made him cranky no less; teasing him about how smitten he was about their photographer.

She smiled sadly. “Harry,” she sighed. “I’ll show you another time.”

“Promise?” He pleaded.

“Promise?” She repeated in disbelief. Harry was nearly thirty years old and sounded like he was in kindergarten.

“Promise you’ll show me,” he said pointedly.

“Alright, yeah," She shook her head, sighed with a smile still on her lips. "I promise.”

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agreeeeeeeeeee · 8 hours ago

Note

i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus 😏

combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw 🫶

1000 secret kisses | R.B.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinking

1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist

Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,” Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.

“Truth,” Barty replied.

“What's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?” Dorcas challenged, and everyone ooooh’d.

Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, then—“I would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,” Barty said through a cloud of smoke.

“No way, look at him!” Pandora argued. “He fucks, guarantee it.”

The groups heads swiveled to Regulus, who was reclined lazily in arm chair, knees spread, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He looked supremely fuckable to you, like he always did.

That's why you've been secret friends with benefits for most of the school year.

You and Regulus were an unlikely pair; Reg, a certified grouch with a distaste for socializing, and you, a gifted student and natural flirt. But you found him fascinating, deeply intelligent and perceptive, with an artistic heart, even if he preferred not to show it. And he found you endearing, infectious in your enthusiasm.

You'd kissed him after a drunken night in Hogsmeade, and he'd sought you out the following day in the library. Now, you snuck away every chance you got, stealing secret moments around every corner, in every classroom, praying your friends never discovered the truth, lest you never hear the end of it.

This was just for the two of you, and you preferred it that way.

“I'm not saying he isn't sexy!” Barty argued. “I'm saying he couldn't be bothered to fuck someone, too busy reading poetry and glaring.”

“And you expect me to, what? Fuck everything with legs like you, Junior?” Regulus bit back.

“No, but like—I’ve never even seen you glance at someone,” Evan chimed in. “You've never talked about fancying someone, or gotten flustered.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

“Nothing shakes him, and he'd never tell you half-wits if he fancied someone because you can't keep your mouths shut,” Xeno laughed.

“It's not like it's anyone's business anyways,” you added, stealing the joint from Barty and taking a puff. “It's his business who he does, or doesn't, fuck.”

“Oh, come off it. He hasn't even had a crush on you, and we've all had a crush on you,” Barty said.

You nearly choked on your hit. “You're full of shit, Junior.”

“It's true! We talked about it the other day!”

You risked a glance at Regulus while you fanned the smoke from around your face, and found him glaring down at his lap, his expression was calm, but you'd long ago learned to judge his true feelings by his pale eyes. And right now, the hostility in them could raze the castle.

That must have been the day he abruptly dragged you from your dorm and into an empty classroom. He toyed with you until you cried, begging him to get you off. And when he finally let you ride him, you weren't allowed to come until you told him exactly who you belonged to. Making you spell out his entire name, letter by letter, thrust by thrust.

Regulus Arcturus Black.

Your pussy shivered just thinking about it.

“Can we get on with the game, please?” Pandora huffed. “It's y/n’s turn.”

Barry grinned over at you, and you groaned. Why on Salazar's shitty earth did you think it was a good idea to sit next to him?

“Truth, dare, or shot, my darling?” Barty asked, his voice a seductive purr.

You really didn't want to take a shot of that lukewarm swill, and you had a hunch of what Barty's question would be: do you fancy any of us? Leaving you with one option.

“Dare.”

Barty’s eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. “You've made a grave error, my dearest y/n.”

“Don't be an ass, Crouch. Play fair,” Regulus warned, the edge of his voice sharper than was probably necessary.

“Oh, you'll like this Reggie, don't worry.” Barty presented his palms to you, like he was offering a gift. “Treasure, I dare you to make Regulus blush.”

“That's not fair!” Pandora argued. “How is she supposed to do that?”

“By any means necessary.” Barty grinned.

You looked at Regulus, who was already looking at you. “I don't want to cross any lines—”

“And when she fails?” Regulus asked, a hint of a smirk on his pretty mouth. Baiting you.

“Then she takes two shots,” Barty wagered.

You looked back and forth between them, all eyes on you. “Deal,” you said, pushing to your feet.

Regulus' eyes widened a fraction, like he didn't expect you to actually go for it, but he vastly underestimated your pettiness. And you would love nothing more than to be the thing that made Regulus finally crack in front of his friends. A tiny consultation for months of keeping secrets.

You sashayed over to him, ignoring the whistles and shouts from your friends, focused entirely on Regulus' smug face. His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the edge of your skirt, the sway of your hips, and you caught the unmistakable sign of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and his arrogant expression faltered.

Already, you were making him sweat.

You knew none of your regular tricks would work on him, he was impervious to flirting, but you had an ace up your sleeve.

Carefully, you perched on the arm of his chair, being mindful to not actually touch him, knowing it would bother him to have you so close without being able to touch. He shifted a little in his seat, a fraction closer to you, fingers tightening on his cigarette.

You took a pull from the joint, filling your lungs with its acrid burn. You looked at Regulus expectantly, and he smirked before tilting his head back for you. You leaned in and he parted his lips, letting you blow the smoke into his mouth.

Your friends continued to whoop and cheer, but you focused on Regulus' proximity, the hazy feeling coarsing through your blood.

Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

Instead, when the last of the smoke left your lungs and entered his, you shifted to whisper in his ear. “Took that hit so well, sweet boy,” you purred, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.

You felt his body hitch, wanting to cough up the smoke, but he managed to blow it out of the corner of his mouth, casting you vicious side eye. To your delight, you noticed a delicate pink stain was crawling up his neck, warming the tops of his cheekbones.

“She did it!” Evan cheered, and the rest of the group roared in approval.

“Brat,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You knew you'd be paying for it later, but it was so worth it to know you had an affect on him no one else did.

You sauntered back over to your seat, smiling ear to ear and basking in the groups praise.

Regulus tried to play it off, but there was no going back now. And you knew he was in trouble when it was finally his turn.

“Alright, Reggie,” Pandora said. “Truth, dare, or shot.”

You already knew what he would pick: Reg hated booze, and would rather run around the common room naked than fess up to something.

“Dare,” he said, taking a bold glance at you.

Pandora caught it, of course, and a tendril of uncertainty coiled in your stomach.

“I dare you to make y/n blush back.”

Regulus huffed a low laugh. “Come on, Dora. Give me a challenge.”

You glared at him, and he winked back. Maybe it was the weed, or his competitive nature, but you'd never seen him so brazen.

Everyone ooooh’d.

“Fine, I dare you to kiss one person in the circle!”

Your heart sunk. Even if it was platonic, a stupid dare, you didn't particularly want to see Regulus kiss someone else. Your feelings for Regulus has grown over the course of the your secret relationship, and while neither of you were ready for labels, that didn't mean you wanted to share him, or vice versa if the night in the classroom was any indication.

Regulus narrowed his eyes at her. “Not everyone consents to being kissed by me.”

“I consent!” They all chorused, and you inwardly groaned.

“What? You've never fucked and you've never kissed someone?” Barty teased, ramping up the pressure.

“Fuck off, Crouch,” Regulus hissed. The game was getting to him, and your friends were feasting on his rare display of discomfort.

You'd feel bad for him if you weren't feeling so sorry for yourself. Reg would probably kiss Barty just to shut him up, and then storm off to bed. Leaving you to decipher his words and actions like every night spent without him there to prove his affection with his hands and mouth.

Shit, maybe this arrangement had gotten more out of control than you realized.

“How the fuck is Sirius such a lady-killer, and his little brother is the virgin fuckin’ Mary?” Barty was too busy laughing at his own jokes to notice Regulus get up and prowl across the circle towards him.

Barty finally noticed when Reg was almost on top of him, but at the last second, Regulus pivoted. His hand shot out to grab you by the hair, roughly tilting your head back for the bruising kiss he planted on your unsuspecting lips.

You squeaked in surprise, but quickly gave way for him, melting under his firm, insistent mouth as his tongue delved between your teeth to taste you.

As quickly as he swept in, he was gone, leaving you wide eyed and breathless as he stalked back to his seat and dropped into it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What was it you said? ‘Y/n has the most gorgeous mouth you'd ever seen’?” Regulus said, a mocking edge in his voice. “That you'd ‘give anything to taste her'?”

Barty gaped like a fish.

Regulus smirked. “I’ll have that left bollock now. And I'll take the other one if I hear my girl’s name on your mouth again, you prick.”

Everyone gasped, including you, but Regulus didn't even flinch.

“Understood?” He glared at Barty, then the others, until each one of them lowered their eyes in submission.

Regulus beckoned you forward with two fingers and you jumped up, crossing the space between you and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, little more than a peck, but it still made your head spin.

“So, secrets out?” You asked, meeting his eyes.

Regulus shrugged, pecking your cheek. “It doesn't change anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’m yours.” He kissed your nose, your temple, your lips, down your neck, until all of your friends dispersed, making disgusted noises as they fled such a public display of affection.

But you couldn't be happier, grinning like a fool as you basked in a thousand not-so-secret kisses.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black smut #the emeralds #slytherin skittles #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #the marauders #slytherin pride #the emeralds fanfiction #harry potter smut #marauders era #regulus black oneshot #regulus black drabble

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accio-sriracha · 2 days ago

Text

Because @bradleysass politely held a gun to my head...

SNIPPET TIME

This one is from (you guessed it) another unpublished wip of mine called "My Brother's Best Friend"

"Uh... help yourself to anything." Regulus paused as he gestured to the fridge, "Especially since you bought most of it."

Potter just chuckled and toed off his shoes, walking across the small, one room flat to plop down on Sirius' mattress,

"Thanks, but I already ate."

Regulus' brows furrowed.

So he wasn't here for Sirius or food? Those were the only two things he'd ever swung by for.

"Did you... Did you want me to leave?" He asked, unsure of himself.

Potter looked up, blinking in surprise, "Why would I ask you to leave your own flat?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know, we've never really spoken before and Sirius isn't here, so..."

"I know he isn't here." He replied, "I came here to see you."

Regulus was pretty sure if brains could stutter: his was.

Potter laughed at his dumbfounded expression,

"I told Padfoot I would try to get to know you a little better. He wants us to get along."

"We get along." Regulus protested.

Potter stared doubtfully at him.

In truth, most of the few conversations they had were arguments, particularly about Regulus not wanting to take Potter's hand outs.

He was otherwise usually set in his ways about ignoring him, Regulus heard Potter tell Sirius once that he was surprised someone could show so little emotion all the time.

Which is probably why Potter looked so amused now, staring at the blatant shock on his face. He'd never been caught so thoroughly off guard before.

"Right." He nodded, looking away.

He schooled his normal mannerisms back into place.

So what if Potter wanted to hang out with him? That shouldn't be that earth shattering. He didn't even care.

"Don't do that." Potter said suddenly.

Regulus looked back at him, eyebrow raised, "Don't do what, Potter?

"Don't shut me out. I saw it, you were opening up to me just a second ago."

And there it was, Regulus was floored again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked.

It was the only question that could make it through the spinning in his mind.

Surely Potter wasn't honestly trying to be his friend?

"Is it really hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?" Potter asked.

Regulus snorted, filling a cup with tap water and ignoring the bitter metallic taste when he drank from it,

"Yeah, actually, it is."

"How can I prove it to you?" His voice dropped a little, like he was sharing a secret.

Regulus felt his stomach twist,

"What?" He whispered, unintentionally dropping his voice as well, sharing in this strange secret between the two of them.

Potter stood from the mattress, walking over to their small kitchen with a determined look in his eyes, the same kind of determination Regulus saw whenever he made a bet he knew he could win,

"How can I prove to you that I enjoy your company?"

"I'm not a game, Potter." Regulus' sharp tone was back, "I'm not something for you to toy with because you're bored."

"This isn't a game to me." Potter's voice was earnest, the most genuine Regulus had ever heard it.

Potter, the man who walked around with a joke always on the tip of his tongue.

The man who called him 'Reggie' because he knew how much he hated it.

The man who's spent every minute of the time they'd known each other making Regulus' life as difficult as possible.

And yet here he was, so much honesty in his eyes, so much emotion in his voice, telling Regulus he wanted to be friends with him.

"You're serious?" He asked.

It was a test, he knew neither of them could resist the 'Sirius' joke.

Potter held his gaze, warm brown to cutting silver,

"Yes."

And suddenly Regulus couldn't breathe.

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sunseeker #starchaser #jegulus snippet #snippet #wip #james x regulus #regulus x james

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silentplanetcat · 20 minutes ago

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Fuck….I forgot about Jeff Dunham. I remember seeing a clip of him somewhere as a little 9 year old. This is actually bringing a lot of stuff back. I was in a very different area (namely, New York) and I was 3 when the attacks happened so I remember nothing. My first memory of the time was a WILD conversation that took place between my dad and me in 2003ish. Let me set the scene. I am a gangly little 5 year old with terrible hand-eye coordination, crooked glasses, pigtails that stuck out of my head and 2 years of 40-hour-per-week ABA therapy under my belt. I am going through something of a questioning phase as I try and figure out how the world works. Notable questions included “Mommy, how did you and Daddy meet? Are you siblings?” “Is George Washington Still the President?” “Do *all* boys named George become the president?” etc.

My dad and I are walking in New York. I had just finished reading a children's book about World War 2 and I have a lot of questions about it. This is how the conversation begins. Me: So World War 2 was started by Germany trying to take over the world...

Dad: Yes honey

Me: Did they want to take over America?

Dad: Well they didn’t get that far, but they probably would have tried. Me: Are we in any wars right now?

Dad: [considerate pause. Glances to his right. We are currently passing by the Iraqi Embassy, I shit you not.] Well…yes..yes we are.

Me: Who are we fighting?

Dad: Two countries you haven’t heard of. One is called Iraq. That’s its flag right there. Me: Whoa! What’s the scribble on it?

Dad: That’s writing in their language. Me: Do they speak…Irakian?

Dad: No. Their language is called Arabic and it has a different alphabet from us. Me: Are they trying to take us over?

Dad: …no Me: Then why are we fighting them?

Dad: Well Iraq is ruled by a very, very mean man named Saddam Hussein. We think he has weapons that could hurt a lot of people. Like I said, he’s a very bad man. So America is going to try and stop him from doing bad things.

Me: Like we’re gonna put him in a time out?

Dad:…something like that.

Me: Is the President gonna put him in a time out?

Dad: Well the President has to stay in America, so he’s going to send some very brave men and women to put Saddam Hussein in a time out.

Me: Wow! [Pause] You aren’t going to fight Saddam Hussain, are you? Dad: No, don’t worry honey.

Me: Ok. Good.

After this, I start getting interested in reading the newspapers my parents get every morning. I don’t know if they’re on the Internet. I only use the Internet to play flash games on the American Girl Doll website (RIP Flash Plugins). It starts with me looking at pictures and asking what’s happening in them. Then I move on to reading captions, then shorter articles, then longer articles. The New York Times and NPR become my foreign policy teacher—but I know not to listen too much to NPR because dad says sometimes they’re a bit crazy. My understanding of America is very…liberal. I know we are the Best country in the world with the best and nicest army in the world. I know that when I see someone in a soldier’s uniform I’m supposed to go up to them, look them in the eye and thank them for their service. I know that my classmates talk about these buildings that don’t exist anymore called the “Twin Towers,” but mom and dad won’t tell me what they are until I’m 9. I know that Saddam Hussein is a bad man with a very silly-looking mustache and that he hates freedom, children and America and we need to stop him. I also know about another bad man named Osama Bin Laden. He wears a hat and has a long beard, like Santa, but its black instead of white. I know he hates America and Freedom too and that we’re trying to find him so we can put him in a time out with Saddam Hussein. I am shielded from a lot of the homophobia and rape culture. When I find out the gay couple that introduced my parents to each other aren’t married, I’m very confused because I don’t know why the President or Congress would make a law against Uncle [Redacted] and Uncle [Redacted] from getting married. I’m also a bit peeved because I want them to make me their flower girl, but mom and dad say that they won’t have a big wedding because they want to do it quickly in case the government of Massachusetts changes their mind. The rape culture doesn’t become apparent to me until I’m 10 and learn what rape in my Catholic School bible study class. By the time I’m able to appreciate it at 12, it’s 2010 and the decade is over. Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein are dead. We’re still in Iraq and Afghanistan and nobody knows when we’ll leave. The economy is collapsing and a lot of my classmates are moving away. The rumblings of oncoming fascism are there, but Mom and Dad say everything is gonna be ok. I believe them. Then I’m in my college’s dining hall in 2016 watching the election, the results come in, a collective wail erupts from the crowd of students staring at the screen and a thought occurs to me that I’ve never really considered. What if Mom and Dad are wrong?

…I’m asking this as a younger queer person who was busy with other things during the 2000s (namely being a toddler/very young child)…what was being queer teen in the early 2000s like? Also, before I go interrogate the first willing 40 year old I find at the LGBT Center…do you know of any books or articles about this time period?

it was a lot of being forced through abstinence only sex education, getting hate crimed, being super eating disordered and that being completely normalized and even considered healthy, having classmates die of a mix of eating disorders & drug use, rampant teen pregnancy, both teachers and students getting into fistfights, being sexually harassed literally all the time, the one trans kid having to take school online so he wouldnt kill himself, 25 year olds hanging out around the school giving girls cigarettes and sexually assaulting them, working a part time job at the mall for 5.50 an hour then driving home to find your mom watching bill oreilly ranting about how people like you are evil and disgusting and next thing jeff dunhams on the tv doing jokes about dead muslims. cant tell you just how ambient and everywhere both violent homophobia and rape culture were like it was omnipresent. lotta slurs too. lots of teens getting black out drunk all the time and puking and getting into situations. what resistance to the wars i got to see in my small ish city was a few rallies of a few dozen people and some protest signs tied to highway overpasses, but otherwise american flags and jingoistic propaganda were everywhereeeee, on every minivan window and classroom etc. nobody spoke up for gay people that wasnt gay and everybody hated women and were so so anti black

the internet was a lot better though.

#early 2000s #2000s #iraq war #2010s #holy shit #time warp

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simplypaisleyjane · 8 hours ago

Text

Chasing You: Part 2

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC Avery Simpson (Daughter of Beau "Cyclone" Simpson)

Summary: After getting stood up on a date, Avery finds herself reluctantly accepting Jake Seresin’s company. She still isn’t sure what to make of him but maybe, just maybe, he’s not as insufferable as she thought.

Warnings: Light Alcohol Consumption, Some Cursing/Language

Part 1 is HERE

The Hard Deck was filled with its usual Friday night crowd of pilots, locals, and a few unlucky tourists who’d stumbled into a bar that belonged to naval aviators first and everyone else second.

Avery had been there for nearly thirty minutes, seated at a small table on the patio overlooking the ocean, staring down at her drink. She watched as the condensation slid down her nearly empty glass. Then her eyes glanced at her phone. Her phone that held no new messages.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, locking the screen before tossing it onto the table beside her mostly melted rum and Coke.

She wasn’t upset, exactly. Just annoyed. Annoyed at herself for getting her hopes up.

The guy was a Navy officer she’d matched with on Tinder. He had seemed nice enough. A little stiff in their messages but she thought maybe he was just nervous. Until of course, he’d probably seen her last name, made the connection to Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.

Avery clenched her jaw, swirling the ice in her glass. It shouldn’t bother her. It didn’t bother her. It wasn’t like she’d been invested in this guy. But it still left a bad taste in her mouth.

She let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders like she could shake the feeling off. It doesn’t matter. It was just a drink. She could pay for her own drinks. This was just another reminder that she should stop wasting time on men who were never going to stick around.

Then, of course, because her night hadn’t been frustrating enough, Jake Seresin strolled over like he owned the damn place. That familiar mix of cocky confidence and expensive cologne, his movements so damn relaxed it was infuriating.

“Damn. If looks could kill, that glass wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Avery exhaled slowly, lifting her gaze to meet his. Sure enough, Jake was sitting there, one arm draped casually over the back of his chair, his signature smirk firmly in place.

She leaned back. “Not now, Jake.”

Jake didn’t even blink. “Now darlin’, that’s just rude. Could’ve at least said hello.” He nodded toward her empty glass before flagging down a passing bartender. “Another for her. On me.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask for that.”

“No, but clearly you need it.” He tilted his head, studying her.

She narrowed her eyes. Tonight was not the night for him to play this stupid game. “And what makes you the authority on what I need?”

Jake leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Because I’ve been watching you sit out here for twenty minutes, staring at your phone and then the door like you’re waiting on a miracle to walk through it.”

Avery blinked. The way he said it so casual, like he wasn’t admitting to watching her all night caught her off guard.

Her silence only encouraged him. “Now,” he continued as he tapped the table. “Maybe you just like iced down drinks and disappointment. But my guess?” He tilted his head. “Some jerk stood you up.”

Avery clenched her jaw. Damn him. She should have lied. Should have shut him down. But something about the way he said it like he wasn’t mocking her, like he already knew the answer had her irritation flaring.

She huffed, crossing her arms. “And if that were the case?”

Jake smirked. “Then I’d say he’s an idiot.”

The bartender returned, sliding her new drink in front of her. Avery didn’t touch it yet.

She lifted a brow. “Or maybe he just had common sense.”

Jake’s expression flickered, just for a second, before settling into something unreadable. “Why do you say that?”

Avery exhaled, staring down at the table. “Because anyone in the Navy within fifty miles of this place learn to steer clear of me if they know what’s good for them.”

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But there it was, sitting between them, open and honest.

Jake didn’t immediately respond. No teasing remark. No cocky retort.

Avery swallowed and shifted in her seat. “It’s not exactly a secret who my dad is.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

Avery let out a humorless laugh and shook her head. “Guys figure it out eventually. And the second they do? They run.”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “You think they run because of him?”

Avery nodded as she stared into her drink. “I’ve heard the same thing over and over since I started dating as an adult. ‘You’re Cyclone’s daughter?’ Then suddenly the whole conversation changes. Before I know it they’re backpedaling like they want to pretend they never even met me.”

Jake remind quiet, just listening as Avery spoke.

Avery let out a slow, sharp breath. “Turns out no one wants to risk dating the Admiral’s kid.”

Jake’s expression didn’t shift. He just looked at her for a few moments. Then he murmured, “Not all of us leave.”

Something in his voice made her look up. For the first time, Avery felt like she was actually seeing him. Not just the arrogant pilot with the easy smile, but something steadier underneath.

Avery’s fingers curled around her glass. “Maybe you just haven’t connected the dots the way everyone else before has.”

Jake smirked and tilted his head. “Oh I connected them, sweetheart.”

Avery finally looked up, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “And you’re still here?”

Jake shrugged. “Told you. Doesn’t scare me.”

Avery blinked, caught completely off guard. She didn’t know what to say. Jake was the first person who had figured out who her dad was, who knew what consequences could come if things went bad, and he was still here.

He leaned in slightly, elbows resting on the table. “So? You gonna sit here all night waiting on a text that ain’t coming, or you gonna let me distract you?”

She shot him a dry look. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Jake grinned and nodded towards the beach. “Take a walk with me.”

She frowned. “A walk?”

He nodded toward the beach, where the last bit of golden-pink sunlight stretched over the water. “Come on.”

Avery hesitated. Every logical part of her brain told her to say no and to tell him to go away. But she was tired. Of sitting there. Of waiting. Of being disappointed. So before she could talk herself out of it, she exhaled sharply, pushing her chair back.

“Fine. But this is not a date. It’s just a walk”

Jake was already standing, motioning for her to go first. “On the beach…at sunset.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped past him, stepping onto the warm sand.

The beach was quieter than the bar, the sound of the waves drowning out the distant music. Avery walked beside Jake, both of them carrying their shoes in hand.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. And strangely? It wasn’t awkward.

The rhythmic crash of the waves, the fading warmth of the sun. It was almost…nice.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. “So. You gonna tell me what actually happened back there?”

Avery snorted. “You already know.”

Jake glanced at her. “Did some Tinder date actually stand you up?”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Jake nodded, thoughtful. “So he was an idiot.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “Or just realistic.”

Jake frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Avery hesitated, then admitted, “I meant what I said at the bar. No one sticks around once they figure out who my dad is…not unless they don’t care about their career.”

She didn’t know why she said it. Maybe it was the ocean, or the exhaustion, or the fact that Jake was so damn persistent that fighting him off tonight felt like too much effort.

Jake didn’t immediately joke or deflect. He just nodded slowly, as if he actually understood. And then, in a tone softer than she’d ever heard from him, he said, “Well I meant what I said earlier too. I’m still here.”

Avery turned to look at Jake. Really look at him. And she saw past the cocky smirk and smooth words. There was something real behind those green eyes.

The wind tugged at her hair causing it to blow in her face. And for a split second, she thought Jake might reach out and tuck a strand behind her ear. And the crazier part? She didn’t hate the idea.

But then reality snapped back into focus, and she took a step away. Not yet.

Jake must’ve noticed the shift, because his smirk returned, though a little softer than before. “Still think I’m wasting my time on you, sweetheart?”

Avery huffed out a breath, shaking her head. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

Jake grinned. “Nope.”

They continued walking until the waves licked at their feet, the tide stretching farther up the shore.

Jake smirked down at her. “Bet you’re the type to freak out over getting wet.”

Avery scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Jake chuckled stepping a little closer to the water, letting the foamy edge of the tide swirl over his boots. “You know. The type that squeals and runs the second she gets her jeans wet.”

Avery narrowed her eyes. “Are you always this annoying?”

“Comes naturally, sweetheart.”

Avery huffed, glancing down at his feet.

Then before she could talk herself out of it she kicked the water. Jake let out a genuine surprised laugh as the cold ocean splashed against his jeans.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Avery’s eyes widened. “Hangman, don’t—”

Jake kicked back.

Avery let out a startled yelp, jumping back a step as water splashed across her legs. “You jackass!”

Jake was grinning like a damn kid.

Avery crossed her arms. “This isn’t over.”

Jake tilted his head smug as ever. “Oh? You gonna get your revenge, Simpson?”

Avery smirked. “Not now. But when you least expect it.”

Jake chuckled, watching her as she shook out her wet jeans, muttering under her breath.

“I like this side of you.”

Avery paused. Glanced up.

Jake’s usual cocky grin had faded, leaving something warmer. Something real.

Avery’s stomach flipped.

She swallowed. “What side?”

Jake held her gaze. “The one that isn’t running.”

As they walked back to the bar, the dynamic between them changed in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.

Just before stepping inside Jake paused, glancing at her. “For the record, you can do better than some loser on Tinder.”

Avery scoffed. “And you think you’re a better option?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Sweetheart. I think we both know I am.”

Jake pushed open the door to The Hard Deck, holding it just long enough for Avery to step inside. Avery rolled her eyes. But for the first time, she wasn’t so sure she disagreed with Jake Seresin.

For a moment they stood near the entrance, neither of them speaking. Then with a small two finger salute Jake took a step back. "Well, it's been fun. Try not to miss me too much."

Avery rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Bold of you to assume I’d even notice you were gone."

Jake smirked. "I think we both know you would."

He turned, heading toward the bar, and for some reason, Avery felt her chest tighten. She wasn’t sure why or at least she didn’t want to think about it. All she knew was that for the first time she wasn’t quite ready for their conversation to be over.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she called out to him. Her voice was casual, like what she was about to say was the most casual thing in the world. “Hey, Hangman.”

Jake slowed and then turned towards her, one brow raised.

Avery shifted on her feet, resisting the urge to look anywhere but at him. Instead, she exhaled through her nose and asked, “You any good at pool?”

Jake’s lips twitched, his surprise quickly morphing into amusement. For a beat, he just looked at her like he was deciding something.

Then, a slow satisfied smile crossed his face. He tipped his head toward the back of the bar where the pool tables sat in their usual corner dimly lit by overhead lamps.

“Come find out.”

#Jake Seresin #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x OC #Jake Hangman Seresin x OC

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blondemrk · 1 day ago

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hi ill become an anon 4 u! would you write chenle x reader who's really obvious w their crush? like they make him lil things all the time and gets so blushy around him so lele decides to take matters into his own hands :3 (you can do wtvr you want with the confrontation >_o) okii ty!!

♡ marks wife

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

p chenle x fem!reader g fluff

hi anon!! tysm for req. what do you want ur emoji to be :3

chenle wasn’t stupid.

if anything, he prided himself on being sharp—on reading people well, on picking up things others missed.

so when y/n started acting weird around him—stammering when he got too close, avoiding eye contact, blushing like crazy—he noticed.

and the gifts? yeah, those were hard to miss.

it started small. a neatly wrapped pack of his favorite candy left on his desk one morning. then a custom keychain with his initials, which she shoved into his hands so fast she nearly tripped over her words. then a handwritten note before his basketball game, wishing him luck with a tiny doodle of a dolphin in the corner.

chenle wasn’t dense.

and if y/n thought she was being subtle, she was dead wrong.

which is why, after weeks of watching her fluster herself into oblivion, he decided to do something about it.

the opportunity presented itself after school, when he caught y/n stuffing yet another carefully wrapped gift into his locker.

“you know, most people just say hi when they like someone.”

y/n jumped.

she spun around so fast she nearly knocked herself into the locker, her face instantly going up in flames. “chenle?! what are you—��

chenle grinned, leaning casually against the row of lockers. “what am i doing?” he tilted his head. “the real question is, what are you doing?”

y/n looked horrified.

“i wasn’t doing anything!” she blurted, immediately stepping in front of his locker like she could physically block the evidence.

chenle snorted. “yeah? then move.”

her eyes went wide. “why?”

“because i want to see what you definitely weren’t putting in my locker.”

y/n clamped her hands over her face, groaning. “oh my god.”

chenle just laughed, stepping closer. he didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, the way she gripped the sleeves of her sweater like it might help her survive this.

she was so obvious. and honestly? it was cute.

“i think i get it now,” he mused, tapping a finger against his chin. “you like me, don’t you?”

y/n’s whole body twitched.

“you dont know what you are talking about”

chenle leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to make her squirm. “is that a no?”

she opened her mouth—probably to deny it—but her words got stuck somewhere between her brain and her throat.

chenle grinned. “thought so.”

y/n made a noise that sounded somewhere between a whimper and a cry for help.

“hey,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly. “relax. you don’t have to freak out.”

“this is so embarrassing ,” y/n muttered into her hands.

chenle chuckled, then—before she could spiral any further—reached for her wrist, gently pulling her hands away from her face.

“listen,” he said, softer now, meeting her wide, embarrassed eyes. “if you’re gonna go through all this trouble just to get my attention…”

y/n swallowed hard. “what?”

chenle grinned. “you could’ve just asked me out.”

“what?"

“i’m serious,” he continued, watching her carefully. “you like me, right?”

y/n stared at him, her lips parting slightly.

it took a second, but she nodded.

chenle smirked. “ i like you too.”

for a solid five seconds, y/n didn’t move. didn’t breathe.

chenle laughed, ruffling her hair before turning on his heel. “c’mon, let’s get something to eat. i’ll consider it our first date.”

and with that, he walked off—leaving y/n standing there, still frozen, still reeling, still trying to comprehend what just happened.

@chenlezip @injvns @polarisjisung @narcisstict @mrkified

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idsfantasy · 1 day ago

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Okay so i just wanted to ask this cause me and a few friends all agree on this but the internet at large seems to loathe the idea but:

I think Glammike is incredibly overhated and is infact narratively genius.

I think it gets so much hate because its often grouped up with the other two, Vanessa and Gregory being the afton siblings.

But if you just see Vanessa and Gregory as just parallels its fine.

As to why i think its actually perfect for his character? Michael was THE nightguard, having gone through and survived MOST locations, he was a survivor. But I think Fnaf always has had a theme of a ticking clock, that you can only get away so many times before the place gets you.

A nightguards ultimate game over is getting stuffed.

So Michael being in freddy, the punishment for a nightguard failing to survive is a nice callback.

AND its a sense of karma, CC had their head bit by a freddy because of him, so then Michael should be a freddy. And in FnafSim he wears a bear mask.

Im rambling lol but id just like your thoughts on it.

REAL, though I do personally also think the other two could be Afton siblings (moreso Vanessa than Gregory though, especially with the FNAF movie flat out making her William's biological daughter).

Anyway, yeah. It's a beautiful narrative reversal to have Michael, the main protagonist of the first arc of Five Nights at Freddy's, literally become the titular character. We've even got connections to Mike in having someone climb into the empty space in his torso, association with a kid who, CC or not, looks suspiciously like his brother, gets manipulated by William (Burntrap), all that.

People write off his whole "I am not me" speech as referring to Glitchtrap, but Glitchtrap/Burntrap does not take over until after they fall and Burntrap leaves the pod, and it wouldn't account for "I found myself when I cleared the path" leading into Freddy having free will when he didn't before that point.

I get that some people don't want to focus too much on the old characters and just want the story to be sentient AI now, but if Cassie's dad is the Bonnie bully, and Oswald's dad is implied to be the Freddy bully, and William was still relevant through Glitchtrap/Burntrap and we're bringing back the Scooper, I think there's something to be said for themes of the past refusing to die, and the fact that this is a horror series involving ghosts means the AI and the hauntings don't have to be mutually exclusive.

Anyway, regardless of its accuracy, Glammike is probably one of my favorite theories just because the narrative potential is so good. Even if it turns out to be incorrect, I'll probably still use it for AUs and stuff

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #michael afton #william afton #glamrock freddy #glammike #bonnie bully #freddy bully #foxy brother #burntrap #glitchtrap #answered asks

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lsunstreakerl · 2 hours ago

Note

for the kink prompt: maybe some catboy max? im such a sucker for subby max asking for (read: silently demanding) attention

don't ask me any worldbuilding questions or the color of anything. (especially don't ask me how it ended up being 1.5k words. I swear I was watching the word count.) this is pretty much complete smut. you weren't very specific with what kind of catboy, so I went with whatever. this is... probably not what you were thinking of. here you go anyways :)

HI this is. very clearly a kink prompt fill. terribly explicit content ahead I'm afraid. not violent just horny.

pairings: lewis hamilton/nico rosberg, lewis hamilton/max verstappen, implied lewis hamilton/max verstappen/nico rosberg

relevant heads up: return of the the maxussy, people/animal hybrids as pets, heats.

Nobody told Nico how much work having a catboy was going to be. Max likes to cause problems- he'll curl up all sweet on their laps before randomly deciding to bite, he has a personal vendetta with Lewis's monstera in the dining room, and he's outscored them both on every single competitive video game they have.

The shelter said he was still young, and had warned them his personality was still developing- and like a pair of complete idiots both Nico and Lewis had thought that was cute.

Now they have a menace.

Jenson had practically cried laughing at them the first time Nico called to ask for advice, before informing him that Sebastian was equally as terrible until they got him Charles.

Nico isn't sure adding another cat to the mix is going to fix anything- and Max is actually being cute now, sprawled across Lewis on the couch purring. His tail flicks occasionally, soft swishes against the side of the couch, and sometimes his ears will twitch at a noise, but he's being behaved.

Probably because Lewis has just gotten back from looping them both around Monte-Carlo a few times, trying to get some of the excess energy out.

It's worked, thankfully.

Nico wanders over, leaning down to kiss Lewis as one hand reaches into Max's hair, scratching between his ears.

The purring ratchets up a notch, and Max's eyes blink open slowly, nestling his face further into Lewis's chest.

"Did Lew finally wear you out, you little beast?"

Max simply stretches out his legs, whole body arching with a soft noise before he's curling back up. He's watching Nico lazily, and Lewis's hand is running down his back in long, smooth strokes.

"I guess we need to add more running into the routine. He liked watching the harbor- we should see if he's interested in swimming sometime."

Nico raises an eyebrow.

"Lewis, he's a cat."

Lewis shrugs, scratching down Max's spine.

"So? He's a weird cat."

Nico can't exactly argue that.

------

Lewis is trying to get some paperwork handled for Toto, but Max is being suspicious. Suspicious as in he's being behaved.

He's curled up tight in the armchair, watching out the balcony window. His ears are alert and forward, and Lewis isn't sure he's actually moved a whole lot in the last hour. The very tip of his tail twitches occasionally, and his hands are neatly folded in his lap.

On the one hand- Lewis should probably go check that out. On the other hand- Max is not currently trying to bite at Lewis, or his plants, or putting holes in the curtains, so he's inclined to let it slide, at least until he gets a few more emails done.

It's only when he's hitting send that he realizes. Max doesn't usually spend time in the home office with him, because it's boring unless he's actively being a brat, but sometimes, when the weather is nice enough-

Lewis sighs, rolling his eyes as he stands and makes his way over to the chair, trying to see what Max is seeing.

Yup. Carlos is throwing a frisbee for Daniel down by the harbor, both of them tanned and shirtless. Lewis has no idea how either of them have that much energy, but- he supposes that's why Carlos got an Aussie. They're excitable like that.

Unlike Lewis and Nico, who have ended up with a bratty Dutchie. Max is technically also Belgian, but not enough to be on his pedigree, so his papers read standard Amsterdam.

"Stop ogling the neighbors dog, please."

Max makes a small noise in the back of his throat, looking back up at Lewis. His eyes are larger than normal, and when Lewis gently rubs at his ears, he's running a bit hotter than usual as well.

Shit.

"Oh, oh no. Are you seriously in heat?"

Max just blinks, pushing his head further into Lewis's palm. Lewis sighs, leaning down and wrapping an arm under his thighs before lifting. Max snuggles into him and starts purring.

It's sweeter than Lewis would like to admit. Max's tail brushes against his thigh as he walks them into the bedroom, dropping Max down onto the bed.

If blatantly staring at the neighbors hadn't given it away, the way Max drops his legs open and arches his back is a clear sign of heat.

"I know, I'm on it sweetheart, one second."

Lewis shoots off a text to Nico before digging into one of the drawers. They'd known it was a possibility- one of the perks of having catboys is the high sex drive, and Dutchies are particularly known for it- something about the Amsterdam line just makes them needy.

The shelter had informed them that Max hadn't had a heat since he was rescued, but that they might return on a regular schedule in a stable environment. Apparently, Lewis and Nico have finally provided that, six months after bringing Max home.

Nico is going to be so jealous he's not present for the start of Max's.

Max whines from the bed, and Lewis snags a few of the toys before coming back over. Poor Max is already a mess- a clear wetness soaking into the sweatpants they keep him in, tail flicking. His ears are slightly pinned back, and he's kneading at the duvet.

Lewis swings a leg over the bed, straddling Max's thighs as he brings his hands to his chest, already puffy and soft under his palms.

Max keens, arching up into him, and Lewis knows he's going to have his hands full until Nico gets home.

"I've got you, don't worry."

Lewis lifts up for a moment, sliding the sweatpants off and tossing them somewhere across the room. Max's thighs are shiny with slick, and Nico's going to kill him for doing this without him, but there's no way Lewis is going to resist- brings his head down and licks a stripe across Max's core, hot and wet.

Max's thighs clamp around his head, and Lewis grins, brings his hands up, gripping one of Max's thighs with his right, holding him down by the waist with his left.

Max bucks into his mouth, already making cute little noises above him.

Lewis brings his head back down, traces out patterns into Max with his tongue as he progressively falls further apart, before he licks a bit higher, latches his mouth around Max's clit and sucks.

Max wails, shuddering under Lewis's hands as he comes, and he's definitely making a mess, slick dripping out of him. Lewis doesn't mind- they'll change the sheets later.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling up Max's stomach to toy with his chest again, even as Max squirms underneath him, panting.

"Be good, sweetheart. Nico will be home soon."

Max's eyes are big and wet as he looks at him, and Lewis really can't help it, not when he's being cute.

Nico won't know if he sneaks two before he gets home.

He runs his hand between Max's legs, collecting slick before pressing it to Max's mouth, feels his rough tongue lapping at Lewis's fingers.

Lewis takes back every comment he's made about Max being badly behaved- if he's this sweet his entire heat, every time, Lewis will pretend not to notice the missing leaves on his plants.

Max is sucking at his fingers like it's what he was born to do, even though he must feel needy and empty, and Lewis half wonders if the solution to his behavioral problems is just keeping him horny.

He'll run it by Nico later.

Lewis leans down to suck at Max's chest, leaves little bite marks across his skin before catching a nipple in his teeth and nipping, listening to the breathy noise Max makes.

He keeps at it, letting it slowly build, because if he can also teach some patience here it'll be a miracle. Max is getting red underneath him, splotches across his neck and down his chest, and he can't stay still under Lewis's wandering hands.

Lewis can tell he's getting close when Max starts frantically clawing at his back and biceps as he keeps teasing him, before Lewis finally gives in and shoves a thigh between his legs, right up against his wet heat.

Max immediately grinds up, desperate and needy, chasing pleasure against the muscle of Lewis's leg. It's a bit of a power rush, knowing he could move it back, leave Max hanging until Nico gets here. He doesn't, because he's not feeling that mean, and Max has been good today.

It doesn't take very long before Max comes again, riding the orgasm with weak little shivers, still keeping Lewis's thigh clamped between his own.

Lewis can heart the clatter of keys into the bowl in the living room, and then their door is swinging open, Nico's eyes immediately dropping to the bed.

"You got started without me!"

Lewis grins, deliberately grinds his thigh down where Max is still over sensitive just to hear him whine, watch him twitch away from it below him.

"I wouldn't be too worried about missing anything."

Nico's already pulling off his jacket and shirt, making his way to the bed. His eyes are dark, focused on Lewis and Max like something he wants to eat.

Lewis is sure his own expression isn't much better.

#ficlet #kink prompt #catboy max verstappen #I can't tell if this is the filthiest thing I've written or not #but it's definitely something #this is me learning because I would not have written this without a prompt

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