#it's really just a 'opening up your rib cage and letting someone look' kind of convo ya know?

[lillybean730]

writing down comic idea at 3am >:D

[reysdriver]

Keeping It Quiet | E.M.

Eddie comes to visit you when everyone is sleeping... or so you thought — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: suggestive content, making out, fear of getting caught, jokes about guns/getting shot

words: 1.7k

a/n: idgaf about timeline or continuity with the show when I do this series of oneshots, it's just kind of an alternate version of the show where Hopper is still here around the events of season 4 ig (also I LOVE this gif of joseph omg)

It was late at night, but you weren’t sleeping. You were taking advantage of the quiet house and catching up on some reading that finally wasn’t for school. You laid with the book at the foot of your bed, and your feet dangling over your pile of stuffed animals right by your pillows. 

It was so comfortable, you forgot about the world around you. 

And you were only brought back by the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your window. It scared you right out of your haze, at least until you looked outside and realised who it was. 

Eddie was standing right outside your bedroom wall with a stupid grin on his face, and he was pointing to the windowsill, wordlessly asking you to let him in. 

After rolling your eyes and marking your spot in the book, you got up and opened the window for your boyfriend. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, leaning over the separation to peck his lips quickly. 

“Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.” He grunted, using the log you had placed under your window to climb in your room. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“You scared the hell out of me ‘cause you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I didn’t know I was coming over until I was already in my van. I haven’t seen you in forever, plus I had something I wanted to show you.”

The last part was intriguing, but you still wanted to correct his dramatics. You’ve learned that if you didn’t act as the voice of reason sometimes, he would start believing his own exaggerations.

“It’s been two days since you last saw me.” And it didn’t take long for you to give in to whatever he was hiding. “But what is it that I have to see?” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on the end of your bed. He looked up at you with fake sadness. “I should have known you would only like me for material things, Madonna.” 

“So what if I was a material girl? You’d still love me anyways.” 

He started speaking like he was in the school play, which he would never do. “It’s just sad—”

You jumped towards him to cover his mouth with your hand. As much as you loved his antics and would encourage it at any other time, it was all quiet in your house and you were petrified of waking your family. 

“Are you crazy?” You asked him in a hushed scold. 

He just nodded happily since he couldn’t speak with your hand still over his mouth. 

“If my dad hears you, he’ll burst into the room with a gun in his hand. You might be able to charm the pants off of me effortlessly, but I think you’d get shot if you tried to test your charisma on the chief of police.” 

You cautiously took your hand away from Eddie’s face while he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that and show me what you wanted me to see in the first place.” You told him, sternly but lovingly. 

“Wow, you really are the chief’s daughter.” He joked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket. 

You figured he was just making himself comfortable, but when he started taking off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath the coat, you wondered what was really going on. 

Then you saw it. 

On his right side, where his rib cage ends, there was a new tattoo. A flaming sword that you knew was based on his current—and favourite—Dungeons and Dragons campaign of his. 

He pointed to the pommel of the weapon, which was a heart shaped gemstone. 

“Did you see the end? It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, but I designed it while thinking of you.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Eds.” You answered sincerely. “When did you get it done?”

“Friday. Right after your dad picked you up from the mall.”

“Did it hurt?”

He shook his head as he gently pushed you back against your pillows, then positioned himself on top of you.

“Not as much as it hurts to be away from you.”

You had to stifle your own laugh at his corniness. As stupid as it was, you did feel kind of flattered by him at that moment. And that’s exactly why you let him kiss you, despite you being just a few decibels away from your sleeping father waking up and grounding you permanently for sneaking a boy in. 

But you pushed all your worries aside and let him press his luscious lips against yours. God, how you couldn’t get enough of that sensation. 

You loved how he kissed you just because he likes to kiss you, how he used flavoured chapstick so he could heal his chapped lips, and how he always tasted faintly of cigarettes and the lemon candies you got him hooked on. 

You loved all that almost as much as what came next. 

When he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. He nipped the skin just lightly and then continued to work his magic. You had both noted another time just like this that your bodies must be made for each other, and this exact moment was perfect proof for that claim. 

“Oh, god, Eddie. You’re so good at this.” You praised, trying to keep your voice down. 

He mumbled an ‘mhm?’ against your throat. He was such a sucker for your affirmations. 

“Yeah. Just be careful not to leave a bruise.”

Eddie lifted his head up, causing your face to morph into a frown from the expression of pleasure just a second ago. 

“You don’t want little reminders of my love?” He asked, lips exaggeratedly pouted. 

“Not when my family can see them, loverboy.”

He seemed satisfied with that response, returning his attention to you and practically attacking your neck with his kisses. The way his mouth was worshipping your neck damn near put you in a trance. It was so good that you didn’t even notice the soft knock at your door, nor the opening that followed it. 

When your younger sister called out your name softly, that’s when you realised the importance of not letting your guard down. You tried to push Eddie off of you as he hadn’t seen Eleven there yet, but he got up quickly once he did notice. 

You urged him to sit down and stay silent while you pulled El away from your bedroom and into the bathroom, all while your sister stared at you with a wide-eyed expression. 

Eleven was the first one to speak between you two. “Who was that in your room?”

“That was my friend.” You said, partially honest. He was your friend, he was just also more. “His name is Eddie.”

“What were you and Eddie doing?”

You racked your brain, trying to think of something believable to say that would get your sister off your back. You really should have prepared a lie before this, because it was proving to be more difficult than you would have thought; of course, you never really thought about your sister catching you making out with your shirtless boyfriend.

“We were playing.” You answered as confidently as possible. 

“Playing?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you know when you and I play-fight, like wrestling? When Dad sometimes thinks we’re hurting each other but we’re really just having fun?”

“So you and Eddie were just having fun?”

“Mhm.” You ran a hand through her hair, feeling somewhat guilty about your lie. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

She didn’t seem fazed at all by your fingers combing through her hair, but her cheeks flooded with pink when you asked if she knocked on your door out of concern for you. 

“I heard you were awake and I wanted to know what you were doing.” Eleven told you. 

It really was nothing embarrassing, she’s just a shy girl. And now you felt less guilty about lying since you know she was just curious rather than upset. 

“Well, I was just playing with my friend. But, don’t tell Dad about Eddie, okay?”

“Why not?”

Another question you didn’t quite have an answer for. Luckily, you were quick enough on your toes that your little sister wouldn’t notice the nonsense spilling from your mouth. 

“You know Dad can be a fun sponge sometimes. Like when he spends an hour questioning your friends before you can hang out, or when he won’t let us turn the couch into a pillow fort. If he hears about Eddie, he won’t let us have fun together anymore, and I would be really sad if I couldn’t see my friend.”

She seemed to be eating your excuse up, knowing exactly what you meant.

“Okay. I won’t tell him.” She agreed. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“And I don’t want you to be tired, little lady. So, now that you know what you wanted to learn, how about you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

She opened the slightly creaky bathroom door and headed back to her bedroom, hopefully to fall back asleep soon. 

“Goodnight, El. Sleep tight.” You called in a volume just above the whisper you were using just seconds before.

You stood in the bathroom alone after you heard your sister’s bedroom door close. For a minute, you just listened to everything around your house. The quiet wind blowing outside, the sounds of Eddie flipping through your books as he waited for you to come back, and best of all, not a peep from your father’s room. 

It was safe to return to Eddie in your bedroom and resume the fooling around from before. 

Once you silently pushed open your door, closed it again, and sat down next to your boyfriend on the corner of your bed, he pulled you onto his lap. 

“So, we’re in the clear now?” Eddie asked you. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can be any less careful than usual. That just proves my family can hear us, so let’s not be stupid.”

A flirty grin spread across Eddie’s face as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and up your sides. “Baby, I can’t promise anything. Stupid is my middle name.”

[sweet-villain]

Sense Of Comfort~ D.M

@becca-alexa

Summary: You don't do well with people or crowds, she as in your best friend makes you feel at ease. But so does he, it brings wonders when he comes finds you to make sure your okay. It's sweet too.

You stood in front of the door that withheld millions of people inside and yet, you were excited and beyond terrified of what’s to come. Chatting among friends was fine and all, it’s the new faces that gave you the fright.

Your heart raced against your rib cage as you stared at the brown door that was waiting for your knock. Instead it never came as the door open to reveal a couple that stepped out giggling under their breath and brushing past against you like you weren’t even there. The smell of the girls perfume hit your nose and sudden realization dawn to you if you smelled good.

Casually you lifted up your armpit to take a whiff and you smelled alright. At least to your taste.

Your hands were clammy as they smoothed down the outfit you chose for this particular party and you throat felt the driest it has been for days.

Did you want to be here? No.

Were you invited? Yes.

Are all your friends here? Most likely.

Did you feel nervous? Yes.

Did you want to go home and curl up into bed and watch your favorite show? Yes.

But you were far too much into your head to notice that your feet were moving on their own and making their way to the front door and stepping into the crowded house.

People met you left and right as you turned your head and your eyes begged to fall on a familiar face that you wanted to latch onto for the rest of the night. People sometimes scared you. 

“ You came!” One of your friends appeared besides you sending you a warm smile. Her bright eyes sending you comfort. You were glad she was here, you grown quite close to her more than your circle of friends.

“ Are you okay? Do you need some water?” She senses right away that something seems off about you. Your heart melts knowing she’s only looking out for you and your best interest. 

“ I’ll be okay, I’m just glad your here” she offers you her hand to take and whispers, “ it’s okay. I got you.”

The words sends comfort through you as you nod and let out your hand slipping into hers as she leads you through the crowd.

The warm bodies passing between you two senses you into a sense of uncomfortableness for a moment as your not used to touch as usual from friends, family and let alone anyone.

You always felt like eyes were on you and judging you for the way you looked. You felt like you weren’t like anyone else. You weren’t pretty to fit into a crowd.

But she assured you all the time that you were more than enough and those kind words you felt like you didn’t deserve. She was too good for you. But not the less, the friendship made more sense with her than anyone else you met before. 

Then she comes to a full stop which makes you bump into her bump.

You frown sending her a confused look but she’s not looking down at you like she usually does and this time you feel her gasp at something. Not just something.

It’s someone that had caught your gaze and your own eyes follow it. Your own mouth a jar as well as her as he walks through the crowd. But it’s everyone’s head turning to look at him like he’s the center of the world’s attention.

He had the most beautiful eyes that you had set on, he had some freckles that you could play connect the dots with and his hair was smooth back at least a little bit from what you could tell. His jawline was moving as he chewed a piece of gum while his hands pushed past through bodies of men and woman.

Woman that you thought would perk more of his interest and yet you never saw him with a woman. At least not going home with him. 

His blue eyes set on you for a moment and his face brighten up as you thought could it be?

Could he be staring at you? It couldn’t be?

She nudged your side as if to tell you that you weren’t really dreaming that he indeed has been looking at you. He stopped in his tracks to stare at you. He sends you a wam smile in a greeting. 

He was fully aware on how you socialize.

The two of you weren’t strangers at all. He calls the two of you good friends but you think it’s merely just someone that’s good too be in your life.

How could someone be that beautiful be part of your life? All these questions rise up but you can’t stop staring at him. 

Whispers began to mutter around you and sense you to turn your head away from him.

Feeling the smallest you have ever been. You didn’t want to be here anymore. His face dropped noticing the change of mood coming from you.

He listens to the whispers surrounding him and scoffs in disgust. All the people that surround him, friends or not, he doesn’t truly care about them.

But you, he would listen to the way you talked about the things that you liked, talked about her, your comfort friend. Of course he knew who she was but she was nothing like you.

No, you peeked his interest at most and he wanted to make all the sadness you felt and all the doubts you thought about, go away. He wanted to make you feel safe. 

He watched as she leads you out of the crowd and through the people and he continued to move through the people that tried to get his attention. Tried to talk to him.

The only thought on his mind was he wanted to make sure your okay. 

She leads you upstairs to an unknown bathroom that you memorized the colors of the tiles there. The shut of the door silence the hushed tones, the looks and has your heart not racing against your rib cage as much anymore.

The feeling is still there as she takes a wet wash cloth and runs it against the cold water and rubes the running tears streaming down your cheeks. You hadn’t notice that you were crying. 

“ Don’t listen to a word they are saying. They are jerks” you could only nod as she takes care of you and you let her. The outfit on you doesn’t feel like something you wear anymore.

It’s making you feel disgusting and you wanted to return home to change. But she’s here and your holding onto her belt loop of her pants with a tight grip.  You had no idea that you were holding onto her until you feel her press a kiss on your forehead. 

You don’t even thank her for her kindness because she knows. She knows you know she cares. It’s sweet. 

She is your best friend, or one of your best friends that make you feel safe and wanted. You don’t know what you did to deserve her but knowing that she’s here. She’s never leaving you means more to you than you can tell her.

You raise your head to look at her but all her face holds is such comfort, welcoming and understand that your eyes tear up once again. 

“ Oh don’t cry” she continues to wipe each one as one falls after the other and your heart feels like it’s ready to burst any minute now. 

“ I-I don’t know what I would do without you” you mumble to her. 

“ Oh my sweet-“ she didn’t get to finish her sentence as a sudden knock come to the door. 

“ Yeah?” She answers as your eyes fall to the white wooden door in curiosity and fright. You lick your bottom lip to prevent licking off the dryness there and feeling the salt from the tears. 

“ Can I come in?” Your breath hitches hearing his Australian accent through the door. He’s standing on the other side of the door, leaning against it with worry in his eyes as he listens. He knows your on the other side of the door. She’s there. That’s how he knows. Your there with her. 

She glances down at you in wonder asking in silence if it’s okay that he comes in.

You trust her. You trust him therefore you slowly nod. Her hand reaches out to unlock the door and his face appears first as he looks inside with worry in his eyes.

Once his eyes set on you, he lets himself in and locks the door. She steps aside and lowers the seat on the toilet and sits down for a moment. She wouldn’t dare to leave you alone like this even though he was there in the same room as you. 

He takes a look at her as if asking her if you were okay in silence and she gives him a warm welcoming smile reassuring him that she made sure you were okay.

He turns his head to glance over at you and you swore you could fall over from the look he was giving you. His blue eyes stared into your own like he was staring into a soul and trying to figure out his best approach.

You cleared your throat and looked away from the intense look feeling like you were melting inside. She chuckles which causes you to throw a glare her way. She has her legs crossed over the other as she glances. Your eyes tell her that she’s free to leave if she wants too but not to strain to far away if you needed her. 

“ I’ll leave you love birds to it” she says. Both you and him stare at her wide eyed as the words leave her mouth.

Your mouth turns into a frown which causes her to smirk as she motions with her eyes at him.

You know the meaning of the look she’s giving you and you swore she was going to get it later when he was clear out of sight. His cheeks were flushed red as he looked away for amoment.

It was the closing of the door that your eyes met his again and this time the aroma hit your nose. His scent fills you. It sending something warm through you. 

“ Are you okay?” He asks you, thinking this was the right question to ask you and doesn’t want to over step. You nod but it’s not enough for him. He tilts his head to catch your lowered gaze but it only makes you want to hide from him more. 

“ You can use your words. I know you can” he says.

The lump in your throat that was building up, finally your able to swallow it as you intently meet his gaze challenging him with your eyes. The challenge is for him to continue to talk as his words, the way he spoke and the way he looked at you made you feel better. Made you calm. 

“ I-I’m good” you answer him with a nod, more reassuring yourself that you were okay with his presence with him being here. Your heart has been racing since the moment he walked through the door and it hasn’t stopped.

You have the urge to turn around and splash water in your face and when you do. His hand meets yours placed on top of yours on the faucet and turning on the water. 

“ Can I help?” He asks. You let him as your hand slips through his and to your chest as you hold it with dear life afraid it was going to burn from his touch at any moment now.

The water is running down the sink as his breath hits the skin of your neck. Chills run down your arms feeling his chest against your back. 

He’s doing this on purpose now. He must know the affect he had on you and was just playing with you. 

“ Do you need help?” He asks motion with the water as his head tilts to see the side of your face in wonder.

Your cheeks are flushed red to the point you felt like you were melting from being so close to him. You were sure that your insides were screaming at you and wondering what in gods name you were doing. 

You don’t answer him in time as one of his hands come underneath the water and the little water he has in his cupped hands comes to your face to brush your hair away and the coldness makes you feel at ease but it’s the tip of his fingertip brushing against your skin causes your breath to hitch.

You don’t know what came over you as you turned around and locked eyes with his. His face was inches away from yours. 

He was much more beautiful like this as he stared back at you. The tip of your tongue appears beneath your lips and it catches his attention as his own mouth becomes a jar and his lips are right there begging and screaming for your own mouth to meet his.

Your own brain is screaming at you to kiss him or to grab him or something but your other brain is telling that this was ridiculous and he felt sorry for you.

You take that feeling and listen to it as you look away from him. But he brushes your hair behind your ears and again your brain is screaming at you to take this man right here and there. 

“ You’re too quite” he says. He knows something has gone wrong here and wants nothing more than to help. He’s not sure how as he’s nervous if he says the wrong thing, he will mess up. But he won’t because he’s just too beautiful for his own good and he makes you melt inside. 

“ I need to get back out there” you tell him motioning your head to the door. His eyebrow raises in question because he’s debating in his own head if your trying to get away from him or something is wrong here. Your not like this at all and he knows it.

He observes you when he can. He knows about you from her. He’s her best friend after all too, cheeky little thing he is. 

He moves out of the way as if telling he’s not going to argue with you or prevent you to stay with him here. You want him to make you stay here with him. He brings you a sense of comfort. 

Your hand reaches the door but he stops you with his words.

“ Come find me when your ready to talk” he says. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and give him a small nod as you exit the bathroom.

The sense of air hits you and you feel a sort of relief. You were sure he was making your heart burst in there. She finds you too quickly as your hand finds hers. 

“ I’m good, I’m fine” you reassure her with words. Instead of accepting those words, she tugs you to the front door where a new fresh of air hits you.

You didn’t know you needed it until she sits on some steps on the side of the house and you join her by her side sitting down and resting your head on her shoulder. 

“ Thank you” you tell her. She doesn’t question what the thank you is for, yet she knows in a way that it’s your way of telling her that you were just grateful to have her in your life.

You two sit in silence until the door opens again and those sudden familiar eyes hit you. You know it’s him now as he settles down besides you on the steps.

You rose your head up and glance over to him seeing the side of his face as he glances down at the steps. 

“ You two always run off somewhere to hide” he jokes to lighten up the mood. 

She laughs as she shrugs, “ Not like anyone wants us around.” 

He shakes his head in disapproval as he huffs. 

“ That’s not funny” he mumbles as his own eyes set on you. Your too comfortable to turn to look at him but you wave at him with your fingertips. 

“ Were not the life of the part like you, Montgomery” she mumbles. 

“ I’ve noticed that” he says with his eyes resting on you still. 

“ Can I take you home?” He asks, directing this question towards you. Your body stiff in question but you look at her with an answer since she usually takes you home.

“ Up to you, cupcake” she says. The nickname makes you roll your eyes as you lift up your head off her shoulder and turn to look at him. 

“ I would love that” you tell him, sending him a small smile. The smile matches his own as he stands up and offers you his hand.

Your hand slips into his own as he helps you up. But he doesn’t leave without bending down and pressing a kiss on her forehead as if telling her to get home safe.

She nods up at him and looks over to you giving your hand a squeeze three times, it was a way to tell you if anything or something that she was still here. 

“ Better not do anything, or I will kick your ass Montgomery “ she smirks up at him. He puts his hands up in defense and laughs. 

“ I will get her home safe” she threw him a thumbs up while you waited, shyly. He looks over to you and puts his hand on the small of your back leading you to his car. 

You turned back around to glance at her to see her still watching but it’s the smirk that wants you to run back to her and smack it off her face. 

“ Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your safe home” he reassures you and opens the door.

Both his forearms are leaning against on top of the car waiting for you to sit in the passenger side. “ I get to be your passenger princess for the night” the sound of your voice and the sentence falling from your mouth causes him to blush. 

“ Look at that, someone is blushing” he rolls his eyes playfully as you sit down and he closes the door.

He runs to the driver side and sits in. The roar engine causes your eyes to lighten up for a moment but a hand on the door and the tight grip makes him look in wonder.

“ Do you not like cars?” He asks. You shrugged, “ not really fast once.” 

“ I’ll drive slow, promise” he lets out his pinky for you to take. You glance at him and down at it then back at him again, “ such a dork.” 

Your pinky hooks with his before he puts it on the gear shift and turns it into drive. Your cheeks flush red from the touch and the hold he has. Your mouth is loss at words as he wants to hold your hand as he drives. A sudden feeling of butterflies erupt through you. 

“ My face isn’t really interesting” he speaks out noticing you hadn’t stopped looking at him since he started to drive. 

“ You have no idea” the word shocked him as he glances over to you briefly. 

The look sends sparks between the two of you and comfort too. He made you feel safe even with one look or one touch. 

[mickimomo]

Attoye-Week Snippets (Part 3)

Okay, so here's a snippet from Chapter 1 one of my Attoye-Week Spider-Verse AU fic. @attoye-week

edit: I accidentally copied and pasted my notes into this post lol. Funny part is, I haven't followed it. But I think I'll tweak it and make it my summary on AO3.

Seek & Destroy (Canon Divergence Prompt)

Chapter 1

Okoye clicked her tongue as she walked down a long corridor.

Another day had brought forth another anomaly that required her out on the field, getting her hands dirty and body battered.

Fortunately, most of the Spider Society was sleeping or back in their home-verse, instead of crowding the halls.

Her exhaustion would increase tenfold if she had to fake a smile, carry on unwanted conversations, and pretend she wasn’t limping or trying to heal a broken rib cage.

She had a debrief meeting in an hour with Miguel and all she wanted was to be alone and to go to sleep.

She was beyond exhausted from all the missions she had been getting sent on back-to-back.

“That’s what happens when you show someone how trustworthy and dependable you are.”

Peter B. Parker’s words haunted her.

It was good to be dependable and trustworthy, but it also meant that you were the first one called when shit hit the fan.

Which meant you never got any breaks.

You never got time to rest or depend on anyone else to pick up the slack.

You always had to be strong and ready for any and everything when you were called in for a mission.

Who wouldn’t want to be called by Miguel so frequently?

To be a part of Miguel’s top picks.

She hadn’t been around as long as Peter B. or Jess, and yet, she had worked her ass off to climb the ranks and stand with them.

She was honored that Miguel thought so highly of her but was also terrified to fuck up.

No one wanted to be on Miguel’s bad side.

She took a deep breath and retreated to the cafeteria in hopes of reviving herself with some coffee.

She just needed enough to stay awake for another four to five hours.

She slouched against the coffee bar to inspect today’s remaining options before rubbing her eyes through her mask to hopefully clear up her drowsy vision.

She looked at her options again.

Decaf.

No.

Blonde Roast.

No.

Dark Roast.

Meh.

Colombian.

Maybe.

Cuban.

Maaayybeee.

Her eyes scanned over a variety of different country brews before settling on a disgusting coffee pot that looked like it was boiling oil and squid ink.

That’s what the guys called “Jet Fuel”.

The kind of putrid semi-liquid gunk that could make even the sand man sandless.

“Jet Fuel it is.” She smiled before letting out a yawn. “Ugh.” She groaned as her fingers began to spread over her masked face.

“Struggling to pick out a type of coffee?”

“AH!”

The masked man blocked his masked face as she shot a web at him. “You must be really tired if you didn’t realize I was standing next to you.” He chuckled. “Which means none of these drinks are going to keep you up.”

She took a deep breath and sighed as she started pouring the ‘Jet Fuel’ coffee, an assortment of flavorings, and sweeteners in a paper cup. “I do not have time for you right now, Attuma.”

“Really? Jet Fuel? You must be taping your eyes open to stay awake.”

“You have no idea.”

“What happened out there?”

“Three against one.” She groaned. “Half of the Sinister Six from different universes had somehow slipped into another world.”

“Oh? Let me guess.” He held up an index finger. “Doctor Oc.” He held up another. “Electro.” He held up a third. “Andddd Sandman.”

“Not Sandman. Vulture.”

“I was close. Two out of three is what…?”

“67% is not passing, Attuma.”

“Well if you round it to 70% I would.”

“That’s still a C.”

“Fine. Fine. Better luck next time.” He grinned behind his mask. “Either way, it sounds like you had a lot of cardio going on.”

“And aerobics.” She snorted.

“Did you win?” He hummed.

“I’d like to think so.”

“Any casualties?”

“None.”

“What was the damage like?”

“Nothing serious. I managed to take the fight to an abandoned garage. It put me at a huge disadvantage but kept the residents of that universe safe.”

“Mm. Clever.” He looked her over. “Any injuries?”

“Always.”

“Broken ribs?”

“Yep.”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t care to know because I don’t want my body to register it.”

He chuckled. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’m alive. That should be enough.” She examined the cup of diluted sludge skeptically.

He plucked the cup from her gloved fingers. “Instead of drowning your exhaustion with energy gunk, why don’t you take a quick nap?”

She snatched the cup back. “If I close my eyes, they’re staying closed until I’ve caught up on the sleep I’ve lost.”

He took the cup back. “I’ll wake you up.”

“As if I’d let you see me asleep.” She took it back again.

“Okoye, let me help you.” He sighed as he took it back.

“Attuma, stop-” She growled as he held the cup out of her reach.

He hissed as she shot a web and yanked it, spilling it all over him in the process. “You have a coffee problem.”

“I have a blue spider problem.” She smacked his chest with a handful of napkins before redirecting her focus to making another piping hot cup of sweet sludge.

Read the rest on AO3 here: this is the link

[3vwritesthings]

Hello! I've been admiring your writings for a while now ♡. I don't know if you're taking any requests rn, so I'm sorry if requests are closed.

But if you're accepting requests, may I ask for some Enemies to Lovers with Itto x Fem!Reader? Like, the reader is friends with almost everyone in Inazuma but she does not get along with Itto at all... Until she sees some people throwing beans at him, wanting to harass him and she just can't take it and goes absolutely feral to protect him? Can be angst, fluff, smut, whatever you prefer, I like it all. (But I really do enjoy a heavy angst with happy ending)

OMGJAHDHAKTHISMAKESMESOHAPPY!!!

This actually made my day 🥺 TYSM I’m so happy that you like my work <3

I tried my best with your request, but I’m not a very good angst writer 😰. I hope you like it though. I had to do a lot these past 2 days but still wanted to write something for you.

A/N: Since I was operating on limited time periods I couldn’t find a way to specify (Fem! Reader) without making things take a “different” turn, so it had to be gender neutral.

(If you want to request in the future, you can check my profile and at the top it should say “Askbox Open” or “Askbox closed”)

＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊

Summary: You and Itto don’t always get along as you don’t always agree with his different methods. One day however; upon seeing someone throwing beans at him, you snap.

Warnings: Not proofread/Slightly rushed (Sorry)

||PART 2||

You were always the kind of person that helped wherever you could; whether it be delivering things for different shopkeepers, baking things for the elderly that resided in Konda Village, involving yourself in planning events and festivals with the Tricommision. It was no wonder to other people that you bore the title “Y/N, leader of the (l/n) gang.”

You were well liked and always got along with everyone in Inazuma. Everyone except the infamous Arataki Itto and his gang. Both you and Itto had different methods of doing things. While you knew to plan accordingly, safely and legally, he rarely did. You would get your requests approved to have your events in certain areas while he didn’t even apply. You detested his carefree nature as well as the oni’s ability to always get away with his (unintentional) antics. “He never takes anything seriously!” you would always say.

This was the start of your rivalry with him. Whenever crossing paths with each other, you’d always shoot him a passive aggressive look.

One day, you were out picking lavender melons on Yashiori Island to help Ayato win the hotpot game when you heard something that sounded like sobbing. You turned a corner and were met with the sight of Itto curled up in a fetal position, crying with beans scattered around him. A young girl with short blond hair and a white dress hurled another fist of the same beans at the poor himbo. You didn’t know what exactly was happening, but you did know that those beans seemed to be physically hurting him. You dropped the basket of melons in your hands and jumped at the girl, tossing the bag out of her hand.

“What are you doing?!” you asked, glaring at her menacingly.

“Oh no! Sneak attacks didn’t work! We need to think of another plan!” said something that resembled a small floating fairy.

The girl pushed you off as she and her companion ran off to find shelter as you picked up the dropped basket. You were about to go back and finish your melon picking but something big pinned you down with an enormous hug.

“Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou!” shouted Itto, his arms squeezing around your rib cage so tight you thought your lungs might pop.

“No- Problem…” you managed to gasp in between the breaths you were able to take. A few minutes later, he let go.

“As thanks for helping me, you wanna join me and my gang for a party later?!”

“No thanks. I’m quite busy,” you reply, brushing the dirt of your attire. You frown. “I’d rather not get thrown in jail.”

“Pleaseeeeeeee!” Itto begged, glancing down at you with puppy eyes.

You sigh.Your rival offering you to a party?! He must be planning something, and you needed to know what. “Ughhh, fi-“ you didn’t get to finish before Itto picked you up and slung your body over his shoulder. The melons fell once again onto the ground.

“Great! Trust me, you’ll have lots of fun!”

At the same time while you didn’t like the giant oni’s way of things, it suddenly dawned on you that some people were just clueless at heart. And now that you were sitting down and talking with this guy, learning more about him, you can’t help but feel yourself relax. It’s not easy being as organized and prepared as you are. Being at Itto’s gathering (that was probably illegal) made you feel like you could just let down your guard a bit.)

“No! I hate him! Get a grip Y/N!” You pat your cheeks, shaking your head. You stand, about to grab a glass of juice when you’re suddenly met with flaming eyes. Your stomach feels weird and your heart rate picks up ten fold.

“What is this?” you ask yourself, unaware that you’re staring at the red and yellow orbs.

“Ha, you blinked!” Itto laughs. You’re snapped back to reality when he pats your back roughly. A little too roughly that you almost lose your balance and fall.

“I got to go,” you say. Not even waiting for a response or saying goodbye, you speed walk out the entrance.

On the way back to your living quarters your eyebrows furrow as you think about what just happened. It can’t be. You hate him. You loathe his existence. You refuse to let yourself have a crush on the leader of the Arataki Gang; your greatest rival.

Might make a part 2 depending on how many people want me to write one.

(If you want a part 2, comment “Beans.” )

[mcyt-imagines-library]

can we get dream (prison arrrrc), phil, techno and ghostbur with a s/o whos very kind and considerate to pretty much everyone and comes across as a sort of parental/motherly figure to a lot of people? thank you <3

Sure! it's a tad bit angsty though, hopefully you don't mind too much

C!Dream, C!Ghostbur, C!Philza, and C!Technoblade With A Caring S/O

Dream • Prison Arc

At first he really took it for granted, your kindness and acceptance, the way you care and your tendency to stay beside him no matter the circumstance

Now that he’s locked in an obsidian cage, buried behind lava, he recognizes that

You, at the very least, visit him once a week, but it’s typically three or four times

Sam has gotten quite suspicious of you visiting him so often, labeling you a ‘high risk visitor’ but that still didn’t stop you, you weren’t trying to break Dream out, you were just doing your best at reminding him of who he was before all of this war stuff and that at least one person still loved him

He’d honestly hadn’t realized how touch starved he was really was for positive contact, so when you do something as simple as brush your hand on his arm, he gets goosebumps and melts into the fleeting sensation

Writes you things when you’re away since it’s really one of the only things he can do for you (gets quite frustrated when you can’t take them with you)

On a side note, he’s aware of what people say about you and how they think of you, the sympathizer of the villain, he hates the way your name is dragged through the mud because of him

Ghostbur

If we're being honest here, he thrives off of it all

The way you ask about his day and let him ramble on about his activities and the books he’s collected (him memory journal included)

The way you hold onto his tall, cold frame, pulling him close to your, by comparison, warm body

And most of all, he loves the way you pretend like he’s never been Wilbur, letting him disconnect himself from the man who blew up L’manburg, along with a positive piece of so many people

It’s all very cathartic, he barely needs any blue whenever you're around!

Truthfully, he hates being away from you because you’re so sweet, so he comes of as insanely clingy (or, I mean, is insanely clingy)

Has kind of moved into your house on accident, but you're probably chill about that, yeah?

Generally, though, he finds it endearing that you care about everyone

He also knows that if he ever needs somebody to watch or take care of friend for him, you're always one of the safer bets

Philza

Very happy!

Mainly because he’s just glad that there’s someone else who’s an adult adult, mature enough to look after other people and make sure they’re safe

He finds it exhausting to do it all by himself, so he’s incredibly thankful that you’re able to help

This old man here can actually quite reckless sometimes too, though, but mainly when it comes to flying

Sometimes he’ll race through treacherous ravines, dodging skeletons’ arrows, nearly skimming the surface of the bubbling magma, embers jumping up and touching his clothes and skin

Other times he’ll soar through the great, open winter air around the area where he lives, catching snowflakes on his dark grey wings, sometimes getting too caught up in the freezing winds and flying into an unexpected tree branch or cliff peak that was concealed by dense clouds (probably has broken a few ribs like that tbh)

It doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, he’ll walk in sheepishly, and through labored breathing, explain what happened

Appreciates when you take care of him and will absolutely make it up to you

Technoblade

Your want to care and protect nearly everyone you know is so foreign to him

The way you’re insistent on bandaging him up regardless of the injury, whether it be a small scrape from hitting his hip on a desk corner or a giant gash from an axe is a level of caring that he’s never even given to himself, so someone giving that to him is such a new concept

He has mixed feelings about it all, honestly

On one hand, it’s wonderful to feel cared for

The way you hold his shaking, blood covered hands during an adrenaline drop after a particularly intense fight is one of the most gentle, warm things he’s ever experienced

On the other hand, though, it stresses him out

The voices swirling in his head nearly always bark demands and it seems like he’ll never be able to stop them unless he sheds blood, which means you’re far too good for him

Sometimes, though when the voices die down and all he can hear is your soft breathing and the wind pounding the shutters against the house, he allows himself to be loved and cared for

He feels normal during these times so he, quietly, cherishes them

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Palliate.

Pairing: Yandere!Witch/Reader.

Word Count: 3.7k.

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Amnesia, Obsessive Mindsets, Mentions of Violence, Blood and Bruising, Mentions of Death.

Mint, to settle your nerves.

That was the first thing he’d taught you, before you were strong enough to do anything more than sit on the edge of your bed and listen. Three leaves if you were desperate, two if you weren’t, and one if you just needed something to focus on, to take your mind off your own hazy thoughts and the places they tended to lead, when you let them wander freely. He said that was normal, that it should be expected. You’d spent so long incapacitated, it was only natural you’d be a little unsteady, once you finally got back on your feet. He said that it’d get better, over time, but you’d have to fight through it. You’d have to give yourself time to let it get better, even if there were little things you both could do to help.

The mint helped. Most of the time, at least. More than most little things did.

You tried to concentrate on the flavor, now, letting it distract you from the sun beating down on the back of your neck, from small bruises forming on your knees as you kneeled between rows of rue and sage and rosemary just far enough apart to let you tug at the weeds invading his otherwise pristine garden. It was a little odd to be outside the small cottage you’d become so closely acquainted with, even if you were only a few paces away, still hesitant to venture beyond the clearing you’d spent so much time observing while you were bedridden. You were still injured, technically, and you’d been told time and time again not to test your own limits. He said you should… You were sure you should be doing something, but—

“Didn't I ask you to rest?”

Right. That made sense.

You weren't supposed to get out of bed, just yet.

A hand came to settle on your shoulder, and reflexively, you glanced towards the man now lingering behind you. You really didn’t need to, though. His voice would’ve been enough, a calm drawl strung out into something playful, fondness coming easily and anger still a long ways off. He’d never gotten mad at you before, but the threat persisted. You didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than absolutely necessary, especially after he’d been so kind to you.

“There’s only so much sleep I can take,” You replied. You didn’t want to be a nuisance, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life in bed, either. “I’m starting to think that’s your only trick, uh...”

“Eden, love. Just Eden.” There was a pause, his sly smile turning sympathetic. “Is your memory acting up again?”

“It’s not as bad as it used to be.” You were telling the truth. For weeks, you’d barely been able to hold onto your own name, let alone anything about your eternally patient host. But, Eden (you tried to remind yourself of that, to make a note of it, Eden) was kind enough to give you time. You needed time. You needed patience. “I found the door, didn’t I?”

“And it’s nearly been a week since the last time you wandered into the forest,” He noted as he crouched at your side, earning a small, offended noise and an elbow to his bicep, just forceful enough to warrant a hum, a slight pout, something between a whine and a chuckle. You didn’t want to stare, but you let yourself watch as his expression softened, as his gazed flickered towards the sprout of basil at your feet and a shock of white hair fell over his eyes. He looked like he was going to reach towards you, like he was going to touch you, but he stopped himself, letting his hand slip down to the satchel at his waist, instead, calloused fingers running over the well-worn leather.

You wondered what he kept in it, sometimes. You’d never seen him without it, not willingly, and he spent so long in the forest every day, he kept himself so busy with so many traps and snares and spots of ink littered across hand-drawn maps, it would’ve been impossibly to guess what he thought was worth keeping by his side. He brought enough of it back, bundles of assorted feathers and glass jars full of golden pollen and other things, stranger things, things you could barely catch a glimpse of before they were shoved to the backs of cabinets and forgotten about, on your end, at least. Eden didn’t forget about such important things as quickly as you did.

“It’ll get better,” He went on, finally, just when you thought he’d stopped talking altogether. “And, if it doesn’t, we’ll find a way to make it better.”

He sounded so sure of himself. You wanted to believe him, when he sounded like that. You did believe him.

You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t.

~

Ginger, to alleviate migraines.

It wasn’t for you, luckily. Of all the ailments you suffered from, you’d been left mercifully exempt from headaches and vertigo and all those minor, awful things that would make your life just a little harder than it had to be. If anything, your head was always a little too light, a little too empty, especially after so many hours of following the same unpaved road with nothing to think about but the passing scenery and Eden’s vague instructions, little more than a list of names and goods. Little to go off of, despite his insistence that you be the one to go.

You’d asked why he didn’t just go himself the first time he sent you on your way with a basket of herbs and roots, but Eden had only frowned, shaking his head. He said he wasn’t welcome, not in the marketplace, not in a village that’d already come to know him by name. He said that, if you cared for him at all, you wouldn’t subject him to a full day of haggling in hushed tones with women who refuse to sell mediocre incense for anything less than a small fortune.

And since you did (foolishly) care for him, you went. Not that you were anymore wanted in the marketplace than he was.

You hated it, compared to the cozy isolation of Eden’s home. You hated how crowded it was, how alien it felt to have to navigate the cramped stalls, how the merchant in front of you scowled as he weighed small bags of the exotic, colorful spices Eden was so fond of, the ones that you could never seem to taste the way you were supposed to, judgingly by how liberally Eden used them. He didn’t try to hide the disdain in his voice as he spoke, aged weariness mixed with a self-righteous reluctant. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t used to it, that constant trepidation from people who didn't understand you, from people who didn't care for Eden. At least he was kind enough not to hide it. “Running errands for the witch hermit, again?”

“Eden’s not a hermit.” You tried to smile, to brush it off as if was just another misconception. He wasn’t. You weren’t sure what he was, but he liked people, he liked having someone else around. Or, he liked having you around, at least. He didn’t seem to care much about company, beyond that. “He just enjoys his privacy. We both do.”

“Only a witch, then.” There was a pause, a gruff laugh that didn’t match his grim disposition. Something in the back of your throat tightened, and silently, you wished he’d be a bit more wary of you. Just enough to keep him from speaking so openly. “I’d take what you can and go, if I were you. He takes after his father, and that man spent his whole life makin’ a monster of himself, playing with things no one should. His son ain’t much different.”

It was your turn to laugh, now. “He cries whenever he finds fawns separated from their mothers. He takes in tadpoles he finds puddles. I don’t think Eden is capable of cruelty.” He was a kind man. You’d never seen him be anything but kind. If he had an ulterior motive, if he had a single sadistic bone in his body, you had yet to find it. “He took me in, too, when I was injured. He might be the only reason I have a roof over my head, now. That’s not a kindness I can say very many people have showed me.”

His lips pursed, the barest hints of confusion crossing his expression. It was gone in an instant, and you tried not to linger on it. He thought poorly of Eden, but the mere fact that you were alive – walking and breathing and alive – was enough to earn him your gratitude. Regardless of what a merchant and a marketplace worth of gossip thought. You knew what you believed, you knew what was true, and you wouldn’t let a few rumors convince you otherwise.

Although, you’d be lying if you said that belief didn’t waver, as he went on. “Cruelty isn’t all you have to worry about.”

You opened your mouth. Then, you closed it again, keeping your eyes on the basket still hanging limply on your arm. He wasn’t done yet, not with the spices, not with his poorly veiled warnings, but you didn’t want to listen. You could listen, you would listen, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to believe anything you heard in such a crowded place, in such an awful place.

You just wanted to get back to Eden.

~

Willow bark, to take the pain away.

It’s more of a comfort than a necessity, by now. You used to need it, rely on it, and you still liked to keep a bundle nearby, just in case, for days where the soreness was worse than it should be and you needed something to take the edge off, to suppress that overwhelming ache back into a steady throb. But, you never needed it, not like you used to. Not like you had when your injury was a defining feature rather than an afterthought and Eden’s medical expertise was more of a experimental artform than a practiced skill.

His hands didn’t shake, anymore, as his fingers skirted over your bare skin, following along the outline of your wound, the trail of stitches that stretched from the bottom of your shoulder bone to the center of your rib cage and repeated itself, carrying over again and again and again, forming neat rows of tender flesh and scar tissue that refused to stop any higher than your hip bone. He wasn’t hesitant, not with the needle, not as he pushed it through the long-suffering spots where he’d first messily laid your stitches months ago, and he didn’t have to look at you to recognize the way you shifted, the soft string of expletives you let out, to notice your little attempts to turn your head at just the right angle, flinch at just the right time to—

“Eyes on the ceiling,” He demanded. With a small huff, you obeyed, turning back towards the furthest wall. “It’ll only get worse, if you look.”

You knew that. He’d said as much as thousand times before, once for every day he'd tended to your lasting wounds. You were tempted to try, to insist it was only fair that you got to know what was going on with your own body, but you trusted Eden, and it was easier to tilt your head back than to argue, to search the cluttered room for something more interesting than the boy sitting at your side and your own, nagging discomfort.

You were in his workshop, now, an area separated from the rest of the cottage and filled to the brim with the tools of Eden’s trade – blooming flowers permanently encased in blocks of amber, the shells of insects hollowed out and ground into a fine powder, pots, everywhere, some empty and some not, the largest placed over a smoldering hearth that never seemed to grow dimmer, despite how often Eden forgot to tend to it. There was something inside, a substance you didn’t recognize, bubbling and black as a starless sky. It was already solidifying around the edges of its cauldron, crystallizing into rows of jagged, silvery edges slowly creeping along the coaction's surface like an infection. Like a parasite. Like something that shouldn’t have existed but continued to, regardless.

Eden must’ve caught you staring. The needle stilled, and instead, he took to dabbing something cool and smooth around the edges of your scars. A rag, or a balm, or a dozen other possible remedies. You didn't try to look. “It’s for you,” He explained, as if that made it any better. “One of my father’s incomplete recipes. He never figured out how to stop it from hardening once it’s exposed to open air.” Eden clicked his tongue, pulling the thread he was working with taut, and you cringed, tying to ignore the slight pinch. It didn’t hurt, not really, not like it used to. It didn’t hurt at all, if you were being honest, but it felt like it should’ve. “The color isn’t right, either. And I’ve already fed enough dye into the damn thing to poison a small village.”

You should’ve laughed. You wanted to, you knew it was the reaction he was looking for, but it was all you could do to avert your stare, to let your fingers curl around the edge of the table he’d perched you on. "They really don’t like you.”

“I’ve noticed.” A blunt response, not abrasive, but not encouraging, either. Not as dismissive as you would’ve preferred. “And yet, they manage to stomach my cures regardless. It’s funny how quickly pain softens the heart, isn’t it?”

“They say it’s unnatural.” You were pushing, now. You should know better than to push. You never found out anything good, when you tried to push. “They say your father used to dabble in things that shouldn’t be.”

Eden sighed, pushing himself to his feet. There was a short silence, interrupted only by the sound of glass knocking against glass before he dropped what he was holding, stepping in front of you and cupping your face with both hands, instead, forcing you to face him, to meet his dark eyes. Black eyes. Lightless eyes. A contradiction when compared his tanned skin and warm smile. A contradiction you tried to overlook as he bent down, kissing the top of your head so gently, you could almost bring yourself to ignore it altogether.

“My father was a toymaker and a healer. My mother died in childbirth. He did what he could to take care of me, and there is nothing unnatural about that.” He took a moment to laugh, to hold you, and you couldn’t be help but be thankful for it. Only weeks ago, he’d been afraid to touch you, afraid to watch you break all over again. Now, it was all he could do to let you go long enough for his arms to fall to your waist, for your face to find his chest, his tunic, a place to hide yourself away from the rest of the world. You didn’t want to go back, not to the village, not to the marketplace, not to the lonely, hurtful, desolate world outside his cottage. You didn’t want to go back to a place filled with so many people so determined to separate you from Eden. You didn’t want to return to a life you couldn’t remember, one where you wouldn’t have the man who’d saved you by your side. “He loved his family, just as I love you.”

For once, you didn’t have to convince yourself to believe him.

~

Witch hazel, to stop the bleeding.

You’d need it. You’d need a lot of it, more than you should for such a small cut, a jagged line drawn from the corner of your eye to your opposite check, thin but deep and bleeding, pouring out, washing over your hands as you tried to clutch at your face and rub away the damage, like a child trying to blink away a bad dream. Your legs might’ve been bleeding, too, the sides of your ankles, the backs of your thighs, your skin scraped raw in all the places you’d hit the ground as you tripped, falling over your own feet at your stumbled backward, but you didn’t check, you didn’t want to check, you didn’t want to see how bad it was. You didn’t want to take your eyes off the man in front of you, his towering stature, his grim expression.

His sword, silver and unsheathed and pointed at your heart, as it had been from the moment he first caught sight of you.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here, in Eden’s forest, only minutes away from the cottage you’d come to think of as your safe haven. He hadn’t asked for your name, he hadn’t mentioned Eden, he hadn’t said a word to you, not before there was a dagger flashing across your line of sight, a weapon quickly discarded for something more intimidating, something that’d let him stay at arm’s length while he approached you, his stare holding yours, his lips pulled into a thin frown. “I—” You tried, but your voice gave out quickly. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had threatened your life. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so scared. “Please, I didn’t mean to get in your—”

“Stop talking.” His tone was flat, apathetic, the barest hints of rage seeping through a weathered veil of neutrality. Immediately, you fell silent. “Who said you had the right to use that voice?”

You opened your mouth, but you thought better of it, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you bowed your head. You wanted to get back to Eden, back to his cottage. You wanted to be anywhere but here. You wanted to run, but you wanted to get out of this with your head on your shoulders, too. “Are you going to kill me?”

“It will not be a true death.” There was a pause, a reluctant hesitation. You pulled your knees into your chest, your hand still pressed to your wound, but the gesture didn’t seem to earn you any pity. “But, I am going to make this—”

He stopped, abruptly, his head attention towards something behind you. You heard it a moment later – measured footsteps, barely making a sound against the dead leaves and branches that littered the forest floor. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t have to.

Not when there was only one person who’d ever bother to save you.

“Adam,” Eden called, already positioning himself at your side. His hand was already on his satchel, toying with the buckle. Like he’d done this, before. Like he already knew it wouldn’t resolve itself peacefully. “There are easier ways to introduce yourself. If you put that sword away, I’m sure (Y/n) could still find a way to forgive—”

“Do not call it by that name.” He was focused on Eden, now, leaving you to fade into the background, to observe as his hands began to shake and he glared, baring his teeth, as Eden had done more than try to play peacekeeper. “That is not (Y/n). It doesn’t deserve to pretend it is, none of your abominations do. It won't bring— It can't—” He trailed off, his sword falling back to his side, his eyes clenching shut. You almost felt bad for him, your would-be murderer, but Eden’s expression remained cold, unbothered. Slowly, almost idly, he reached down, taking you by the arm and helping you to your feet, letting you tuck yourself against him as Adam finally found his voice.

“(Y/n) is dead. Nothing you do can change that.”

A moment passed in silence, still, deathly, frigid silence.

Then, Eden spoke.

“I can handle this on my own.” He didn’t deny it. He wasn’t denying it. Why wasn’t he denying it? “I need you to brew tea, Chamomile. Gather as much lavender as you can on your way home, until your pockets are full and you can’t carry anymore. Can you do that for me, love?”

You nodded, but you were still shaking, still unsure, still so, so confused. You weren’t dead. You could breathe, and you could think, and you ate and you slept and you weren’t dead. “I’m not.” You didn’t know who you were talking to – Adam, still clutching his sword, still ready to behead whoever his blade could reach or Eden, your Eden, the gentle protector who hadn’t looked at you once since his arrival. You just wanted someone to say it wasn’t true. You just needed someone to say it wasn’t true. “I’m not. I’m alive. I’m not de—”

“I’m in love,” Eden said, his voice soft. As if he hadn’t heard you at all. “Why does everyone act as if that’s so monstrous?”

You didn’t want to hear Adam’s response. You didn’t want to hear anything, not from him, not from Eden, and certainly not from your own frenzied thoughts, racing and only growing louder as you ran, sprinting, stumbling through the forest in any direction your legs would carry you. A crooked sob racked over your chest, and reflexively, you moved to brush away the tears blurring your vision, but you couldn’t feel yourself when you should’ve, it wasn’t flesh that met your cheek. Your eyes darted to your hand, a sneer already playing at your lips for whatever mud or decaying foliage had plastered itself against your skin, but…

But, you found a small trail of crystals, instead, silvery-glass that coated your palm, rows of jagged edges that hadn’t been there before, that shouldn’t have been there, where your blood had stained your skin only minutes ago. Or, where you thought your blood should’ve stained your skin. You hadn’t looked.

You hadn’t looked.

You froze dead in your tracks.

Slowly, our raised a hand to your face, to the cut carved into it, to what should’ve been a bloody, bloody wound. Something jagged met your fingertips, but you ignored the slight sting. It didn’t hurt. Not as much as it should’ve. Not as much as you wanted it to.

By the time you pulled away, your hand was covered with it. Thick, cool, forming webs between your fingers as you spread them apart. Dark. A kind of dark you’d only seen once.

As black as a starless sky.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 124: Joke

"Draco?" Harry asked as he twisted his fingers in Draco's hair.

He hummed, feeling too content and comfortable to use any actual words or even lift his head from where it was resting over Harry's heart. Lightly he trailed his fingers over Harry's rib cage in response.

"Do you think-" he broke off and Draco felt him swallow, "I want to tell my friends about us."

He froze for a moment, unable to quite believe his ears.

"Or not," he said hurriedly, "If you're not-"

Draco sat up and pressed his lips to Harry's because he knew it was the fastest way to get him to stop talking. And because he couldn't quite believe that he would ever be someone that the other man would want to tell the world about, he'd never imagined Harry would be proud to be with him.

Harry sighed into the kiss, wrapping Draco tighter in his arms.

When Draco pulled back he said, "Do you mean it?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tipped up and he nodded, "If it's okay with you." He brushed his fingers over Draco's cheek, "I really like you," he confessed, "and it just keeps getting harder and harder not to tell my friends how happy you make me."

Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat, "Really?" he whispered.

Harry nodded, tucking a strand of Draco's hair behind his ear. "Would you come with me? Maybe we could go out to dinner with them?"

"Yeah," he said, "Yes, if you want me to."

"I'd like that," Harry replied.

"Can we tell my friends, too?"

The smile that Harry gave him made him a little breathless, "If you want to."

"I'll owl them tomorrow."

Harry kissed him again and if they didn't get much more talking and planning done for a while after that who could blame them? They had far better things to do.

(Read more below the cut)

As fate would have it, they went out to brunch with Pansy, Blaise, and Greg first. They met at a muggle restaurant that wasn't far from Harry's apartment and when they arrived, Draco's friends were quite taken off guard by Harry's presence.

Harry held the door for them and Draco stepped through, Pansy following close behind and hissing, "What the bloody hell is Potter doing here?"

"Relax," he said, hooking her arm through his and following the hostess to a table.

After they ordered drinks Draco cleared his throat, "There's something I wanted to tell all of you," he started and Harry draped his arm over the back of the chair behind him, brushing his thumb over Draco's tricep in a silent show of support. "Harry and I are dating," he said, glancing over at Harry and giving him a little smile.

"I'm sorry?" Pansy asked and Draco glanced over at his friends' shocked faces.

"We've been seeing each other for a few months," he said.

"And we're serious about each other," Harry added.

Draco nodded, "So we thought it was time to start telling our friends."

Pansy blinked at him and Blaise was still staring with his jaw dropped but Greg just nodded, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Harry said with a smile at Greg.

Greg looked between the two of them, gave a nod, then opened his menu, "So what's good here?" he asked and Harry started to list off some of the dishes they'd enjoyed when they'd come on lazy Saturday mornings.

He glanced across the table to find Pansy still staring with an inscrutable look and Draco felt a tingle of apprehension at the base of his spine.

Everything was fine while they ordered and ate their breakfasts, it wasn't until Harry got up to use the loo that Pansy started to speak frankly.

"Draco, you're not serious," she hissed.

"About?"

"You dating Harry Potter! This is an elaborate joke, even for you, how on earth did you manage to convince him to go along with it?"

He shook his head, "I'm completely serious. We ran into each other at work, started talking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that. Then we started fucking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that too. And it just makes sense," he said with a little shrug. "We spend all of our free time together and I can't even remember the last time I slept in my own flat-"

"Draco, be reasonable," Blaise said. "He can't possibly," he broke off as though he didn't want to finish that sentence.

"He can't possibly what?" Draco asked, putting years of practice making his voice sound cold as ice to good use.

"Darling, it's just that you're you," she said, "And he's Harry bloody Potter."

"The press is going to destroy you," Blaise added. "Imagine those headlines."

Pansy shook her head, "And not only that but don't you think that Potter is going to end up with someone that the wizarding world will approve of? A wife who'll give him three kids, a home, the whole nine yards."

"I think it's nice," Greg said. "He looks happy, you look happy. What more is there?"

"Thanks, Greg," he replied with a nod.

"Oh sure, trust the person who's been single all his life to give you dating advice," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "By all standards, he's too good for you and everyone knows it."

Blaise cleared his throat then, "What do you all think of ordering a few of those delicious looking cinnamon buns to share?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me," Harry replied as he slid back into his seat and bumped his knee against Draco's. "The only real question is if you want the iced ones or the honey ones," he said, turning to look at Draco, "What do you think, love?" he asked.

Draco looked at him and something cracked in his heart, Pansy and Blaise were right. Harry Potter was a dream and it couldn't last. He swallowed, "Let's do the iced one."

He supposed a little while longer before he talked some sense into Harry wouldn't hurt too much.

----------

Harry was in a great mood when they got back to his flat. "Well," he said as he toed his shoes off at the door, "That went well, didn't it?" he asked.

He didn't reply, he just stared at the other man and wondered how to tell him that they were never going to be able to work.

"Tea?" Harry asked, oblivious to Draco's inner turmoil as he headed into the kitchen without waiting for a response.

"You should break up with me," he blurted.

Whatever Harry had been holding shattered as it hit the floor. "Shite," he murmured. "Reparo." Then he returned to where Draco was still standing, a few feet away from the door. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

Draco couldn't quite meet his eye, "You should break up with me now," he said, "Before either of us can get more invested."

"Draco, what-?"

He shook his head and a tear slipped out, "You're too good for me, Harry, and when the press catches wind of this-"

"Stop it," Harry said, clasped Draco's shoulders, "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"Even my friends, the people who have loved me through some pretty dark places, say it's true!" he exclaimed, "Even my friends think you're too good for me, that I'm being delusional."

Harry took his hands in his and it was only then that Draco realized he was trembling. "Hey," he murmured, leaning in so their foreheads were touching. "Your friends are arseholes. I am not too good for you. Draco, I can't even match my socks properly."

And it was such a ridiculous thing to say that a startled laugh burst from his mouth.

Harry tilted his head up to kiss his nose. "Look, they won't be the last people who spout of complete nonsense about us. I'm sure that comes with the territory," he added. "But it doesn't change who you are."

"An ex-death eater," he said. "A school bully, a complete-"

"That's not who you are," Harry said, leaning back so he could see Draco more clearly. "It might have been a part of who you were but it's not who you are." He pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek, "You are brilliant," he said, "and you are gorgeous, and you're kind. And you've got a wicked sense of humor. You're passionate and you work hard."

"I've had to."

Harry nodded, "You're not the boy you were when we were in school just as I'm not the boy that I was when we were in school."

"But people will always remember-"

"What they think or remember doesn't matter," he said. "Because I know who you are and I don't give a rat's arse about what they think."

"I don't know, Harry," he said softly. "My past-"

"Do you think I'm the person they paint me to be?" he asked.

Draco shook his head, "Of course not but the wizarding world isn't going to accept this."

"I love you," he said simply. "And you, as you are, are more than enough."

"It's not going to be easy," Draco said softly.

The other man kissed him softly, "You're probably right," he said. "But I'm all in, if you are."

He pulled Harry into a tight hug and Harry hugged him back, "I'm in," he whispered.

"Then that's all we need," Harry said with a nod.

And Harry was right their friends came around but they found that they could weather the storms. There wasn't any trial or challenge they couldn't overcome when they were both willing to fight for the other.

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

Day 123: Feather | Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part 1)

[boop-le-snoot]

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

[duuhrayliegh]

Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨

hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)

A Friend of Yours

FATWS SPOILERS

warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it

word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine

a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)

check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

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

You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.

“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.

“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.

You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.

“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”

You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?

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

The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.

Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.

“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.

“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.

“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.

The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.

“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.

“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.

“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.

The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.

“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.

“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.

“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.

“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.

“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.

“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.

“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.

“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.

“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.

“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.

You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.

Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.

She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.

They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.

You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.

“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”

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

“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.

“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”

“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.

“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?

“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where do we start?”

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

Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.

The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.

“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.

She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.

“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.

“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.

“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.

“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.

“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.

“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.

“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”

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

The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.

“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.

“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”

Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.

“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.

“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.

“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.

Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.

“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.

“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.

“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.

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

That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.

Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”

You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.

The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.

“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.

“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.

You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.

“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.

Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.

“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.

Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”

“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.

“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.

“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.

“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.

“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.

“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words.  “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.

“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.

“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”

Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.

Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.

“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.

“It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”

“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.

“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.

“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”

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

You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.

“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.

His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.

“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.

“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.

“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.

“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.

“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.

“James.”

“Again.”

“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.

Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.

Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.

You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.

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

You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.

“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.

“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.

“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.

“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.

“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.

She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.

She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.

It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.

One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.

He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.

“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.

“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.

Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.

“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.

You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.” 

[spidernerdsblog]

Hey dear💟 how are you? Can I ask for some mob!tom smut?? Like he's smoking a cigar at a boring wedding when he meets a mob!reader and after talking a bit things just happen and he takes her home for fucking all night?

Oh and ends in fluff??

Hi nonnie! I'm fine hope you are well too. Here's your request hope you like this.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, mature content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

His Queen, Her King

Being the mob boss Tom had to be a part of various social gatherings, galas, parties etc but the most he dreaded were weddings. Especially when you're an eligible bachelor, people around you are constantly nagging you with the most evident question ‘when is your turn?’ There were several occasions where the leaders of other mobs had tried to set him up with their daughters to forge an alliance but he would turn them down every time because he never found them to be his match. He likes to be in control but that doesn’t mean he would settle for a mere puppet who would dress up pretty and do as told, he wanted someone powerful, fierce who would challenge his authority, a real queen to his vast empire.  

It was one of his childhood friends' wedding day so he couldn't say no. The hall was buzzing with people as he was seated with a couple of his friends at a table drinking and laughing loudly talking about their busy lives and their businesses. One hour to the wedding reception and Tom was already bored he lit up a cigar and took a long puff from it watching everyone silently. 

Just then you walk in through the doors in a long red silk dress hugging your body like a second skin with a thigh high slit paired with pointed stilettos making heads turn. Your hair styled into loose curls cascading down your shoulders complimenting your dewy makeup. Your wrists and ears sparkling with the most priceless authentic diamonds.  Apart from being the maid of honor you are the only woman in the mob business who owns the biggest diamond business in the country. 

People were obviously envious of your power though they never dare to say anything to your face but you have heard how people think you just got lucky with the business as the only daughter of your father, women have no place in the mob even to the extent of being slut shamed and being accused of sleeping with your rivals to run the business. You had simply shrugged it off and showed those people with a flourishing business and earning double profits than your father used to earn when he used to run the mob. You walk over to your best friend.

“Congratulations Jane, finally you’re a married woman now!” you give her a hug.

“Thanks Y/N it feels like a dream honestly” she chirps “but when are you…”

“Please you also don’t start” you both chuckled and continued gossiping.

“Man why are these receptions so dull and boring” Matt groaned “couldn’t they do it at a bar or strip club?”

“Yeah it would have been fun to watch your wife beat the shit out of you after you flirted with one of the strippers” Carl mocked to which everyone laughed out loud including Tom.

“Hey!!” Matt revolted in protest as all of them laughed again.

Your conversation was constantly getting disturbed with their constant brawls and loud laughter. Even the other guests had a frown on their face with the noise they were making.

“I apologize on behalf of my friends, they can sometimes be a little loud” Paul the groom said apologetically.

"It’s ok I know how to deal with guys like them. Let me handle it” You offer and stride your way to their table. 

“Sorry to crash the fun boys but some of us are actually here to attend the reception not to hear your meaningless chatter” you jibe forcing a smile as the men turn their attention towards you. Tom puts down his cigar blowing out the smoke as he takes a quick glance of you.

“I'm sorry love, are we offending you?” he remarks with a smolder and the men around him hollered. The corner of your lips quirk into a sly smirk as you step closer to him drawing a finger along his jawline.

“It will take a lot more than this baby face to offend me” you taunt him back with a grin amusing everyone including Tom at your comeback.

“Oooh damn!” the men hollered again while you turned your back and strutted off to join your friends again. Tom just sat there completely blown away by your boldness. He had heard about you but now that he saw you he understood that you weren’t just a beautiful face after all who just got lucky in the mob business you were a complete badass. The very image of you radiates power and triumph. 

His eyes seeked yours the whole time and then he found you finally all by yourself near the open bar drinking a glass of whisky. He approaches you as he clears his throat.

“Ahem, hey” you lift your eyes from the glass and then put it down on the counter smacking your lips.

“Here to apologise for being a jerk?” you quip.

“I thought we were even already” he remarks with a smug grin.

“Yeah maybe” you half shrug

“Tom Holland by the way” he reaches his hand out and you dismiss it by picking your glass again and taking a sip. 

“I know who you are, the boss of the most powerful mob in London” you say nonchalantly

“Keeping tabs I see” he smirks as he signals the bartender to hand him a drink as well.

“It’s a risky business Holland you gotta keep records about your potential rivals” you state blandly.

“Absolutely, couldn’t agree more” he takes a sip wincing at the strong taste of the drink. 

“So all alone? Bossman didn’t get any arm candy for the night?” you snicker.

“Only a queen fits beside a king like me darling and I haven’t found one yet , what about you?”

“Well I haven’t found my king either” you clink your glass to his as you both gulp down your drinks.

“You look ravishing in that dress I must say” he compliments with a suave in his voice.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad either” you flirt back as you bite the corner of your lip checking him dressed in an Armani suit the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the golden light of the chandeliers.  

“I really admire you. Honestly it’s really hard and dangerous to run a business when you’re a woman” there was a different kind of sparkle in his eyes which you recognize very well.

“What can I say I just love playing with danger” you shrug with sass in your voice. 

“You wanna get out of here? I’m sure nobody will miss us” he licks his lips eyes darkening with pure desire. 

“Well what are we waiting for?” you smirk with a mischievous glint in your eyes both of you coming to a silent agreement.

The whole ride to his mansion was a blur as soon as you were inside he had you pinned up against the door as his lips met yours hungrily. His lips tasted of burnt cigar and whisky.  He started leaving trails of kisses on your jaw and neck while his hand snaked down to your thighs through the slit of your dress unclasping the thigh holster from your leg as it dropped on the ground with a loud clatter. His hand moved further to your flimsy lace thong to feel your sex. 

“So wet already, love? I haven't even touched you properly” you can hear the smirk in his voice. His hand goes to unzip your dress as he leans in for a kiss but you stop him placing two fingers on his lips slowly tracing them. 

“Bedroom?” you ask breathing heavily.

“Upstairs left” he informs between shallow breaths.

You gave him a peck on his cheek and made your way up the stairs. Tom’s eyes never left you as he watched you slide the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders and dropping it off on the floor striding away in just your strapless bra and thong your heels clacking against the marble floor. Tom scoffed in amusement a toothy grin forming on his face . You were really something who was just driving him crazy.

The moment he walked in the bedroom he felt himself twitch inside his pants. There you were sitting in the middle at the edge of the bed slightly leaning on your palms with your legs crossed one above the other. You looked like a viscous siren slowly entrapping him with your charm and beauty. 

“Nice bedroom” You gently smoothed the silk sheets with your hand.

“Glad you liked it” he said smiling.

“Are you just gonna stand over there?” You unclipped your bra and lazily dropped it on the floor putting on a show for him as you lifted a hand pointing a finger motioning him to come closer. A low groan escaped from his mouth at the sight of your exposed breasts as he strolled towards you unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his body drinking in your almost naked form with lustful eyes. You subconsciously licked your lips marveling his taut muscles. He tilted your chin up as you gazed in his brown eyes with parted lips.

“God you’re gonna be the death of me” he mumbles in a husky voice.

“That was the plan all the time, I can then take over your mob” you giggle playfully.

“You minx” he knelt down to capture your red tinted lips passionately tongues clashing against each other as you ran your fingers across his abdomen, nails scraping his skin. He gently pushes you down on the mattress as you shift back in the middle of the bed. He spreads your legs to accommodate himself as he crawls up to be at level to your face pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. Goosebumps covered your skin as you felt his bulge brushing on your thighs. You tilted your head to the side as he took the opportunity to suck marks on the nape of your neck. One hand squeezing your ass the other palming your breast as he placed butterfly kisses all over your skin.

“So pretty” he mumbles, pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts,you shuddered when he flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud.

“Oh” you gasped when he wrapped his mouth around your breast sucking the nipple between his teeth, kneading the other fingers pinching and tugging on it. After paying equal attention to the other one too before continuing his journey south. Your stomach flutters as his lips trail down your rib cage, navel the cold gold chain dangling down his neck feeling ticklish against your hot skin. He placed a soft kiss over your soaked panties and you felt that your body was set to fire as you gasped lightly chest heaving up and down. A smirk forms on his face as he moves to kiss your inner thighs ignoring the place where you needed him the most.

“Please” you let out a quiet whimper

“Please what darling?” he whispers with a husky voice. 

“Touch me” 

“I’m touching you love” he lightly chuckles, you whined in protest. “You gotta be more specific with your demands, love, what do you need?” he coos.

“I-I need you, your mouth” you breathed out. 

“See that wasn’t so hard” he practically rips off your thong and throws the shredded fabric away letting out a low growl at the sight of your glistening cunt. He hooked his arms to your thighs, the rings on his fingers felt cold against your skin. He licks a long stripe up your folds sending jolts of pleasure up your body making you squirm in his hold.

“So sweet” he mumbles against your heat. You let out a soft gasp, your hands threading into his soft brown curls as he swirled his tongue through your folds.

You cry out when his tongue flicks your swollen clit giving his hair a harsh tug he groans into your heat. He continued to suck on your clit between his lips pushing a thick digit inside you. Your body arched bucking your hips into his mouth he had to place a hand on your lower stomach to keep you in place. He then adds another finger pumping it in and out of you his teeth grazing your sensitive bud soothing it after with his tongue immediately. 

“Fuck!” You moaned feeling euphoric eyes fluttering shut as he devoured you. Your body tensed up when he added another finger to your heat, your one hand was pulling his hair painfully and the other squeezing your breast rolling your nipple between your fingers. He curled his fingers hitting your spot sending you over the edge.

“C’mon love, let it go want you to cum all over my fingers” he moaned into your heat the vibrations leading you to tumble down the edge as you came undone around his fingers. He helped you ride your high still sucking on your clit, your legs trembled as he lapped up all your juices. He pulled away after sometime his chin glistening with your arousal. 

He got rid of his dress pants along with his boxers and then crawled over to you. You gazed into his warm brown eyes still in your post orgasmic haze as you pulled him down to capture his lips with an urgent need. You tasted yourself on his lips as he deepened the kiss grinding his hips into yours. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips when you felt the tip of his member brushed against your entrance. He gripped his member giving it a few pumps before lining up against your core. You placed a hand flat on his stomach signalling him to stop. He knitted his brow in confusion when you flipped him over to be on top him sitting on the back of your knee straddling his waist. 

“I wanna ride you” you whisper in a sultry voice and his lips curl up to a smirk.

“Then go ahead, darling” he shuffles back a little resting himself comfortably against the headboard. You brought your hand to your mouth and gave it lick before grabbing his member using it for lubrication, slowly pumping his length and lining it up to your weeping core. Your breath hitched when you felt his tip slide through your entrance stretching your walls in a nice way. You slowly sank down on his length feeling so full of him. You stayed like that, your walls warm and snug squeezing him like a vice. Tom groaned when you clenched around him. 

“Oh god Y/N please move or I'm not gonna last for another minute” you leaned down to kiss him starting to move your hips slowly adjusting to his thick shaft.

“Shit” He hissed as you lifted yourself hand gripping on his thighs for leverage to go a little faster, the soft sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. Your stomach clenched as you paced up and down his cock, each time filling you up to the hilt. His hands held your hips, fingers digging in your skin groans rumbled in Tom’s throat as he clenched his jaw. He gazed at you with hooded eyes smitten by the way your back arches towards him and your tits bounce with every thrust.

You started to feel a little exhausted, a thin sheen of sweat lining your bodies as you slowed down your pace. Tom’s hands slid down to your ass, spreading your cheeks as he took control, thrusting up into you. You jolted forward moaning out loud, grasping on to his shoulders tightly for support. 

“Just because you're on the top don't think you're in control darling” he says cheekily you let out a light chuckle at his comment before whimpering when his cock hit your sweet spot.

He lifted his knees, planting the heels of his feet into the mattress for leverage as he began to fuck you roughly. He grunted, feeling your walls clench around his cock with every thrust of his hips. You leaned down to kiss him sloppily he reciprocates by slipping his tongue into your mouth swirling it inside your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as you felt a tight knot build inside your stomach.

“Tom” you moan breathlessly, eyes squeezing shut as your hands slide down his shoulder to his chest nails scratching his skin.

“Gonna cum again for me love?” Tom murmured against your lips as he spanked your ass lightly. You nodded your head vigorously starting to roll your hips desperately. He brought his thumb to your swollen clit and rubbed circles as the coil inside you snapped and you screamed out your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Tom wasn’t too far either as he continued rutting his hips and soon he was spilling inside you.

“Fuck.” He moaned as his face screwed up in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing as he emptied his seed into your tight pussy, not letting go of his grip on your body. You collapsed onto his chest panting both of you catching your breath, your walls still pulsating around his cock, deeply buried inside you. He caressed your back gently, your chest pressed to his, head resting over his heart as you listened to his steady heartbeat while your fingers fiddled with the chain around his neck. He took your hand and kissed on your knuckles gently brushing his thumb over them lovingly.

“I really like you” he finally spoke out

“What?” you frowned, still a bit dizzy.

“I think I have fallen in love with you Y/N” he confesses softly as you straighten yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Are you asking me out when you are literally balls deep inside me?” you snicker raising your eyebrows.

“I’m serious Y/N” he cradles your face with both of his hands “the moment I saw you I knew you are the one I have been waiting for all my life. A strong, independent and fearless woman who doesn’t need anyone, you are a hell of a queen, Y/N. I want this queen to be only mine, together we can rule the world love. I don’t want this to be a one night thing I want to make love to you every night, kiss every inch of your body and appreciate you, adore you” he rants

“The last part sounded a little creepy though” you chuckled “Well I do like you too my king let’s just take things slow and see where it goes maybe?”

“Sure my queen” he smiles as you kiss him softly.

................................................................................

[s0seo]

Attitude Adjustment Pt.2

Pairing: Roommate!Jk x Reader x Roommate!Taehyung

WC: ~10.8K. Rating: M.

Description: After hearing an argument between your two roommates, you are a bit shocked to hear that they both have feelings for you. Add a bit of possessiveness and a dash of domination and you have one heck of a trio.

Genre: Smut. It’s literally just smut Bit of exposition, but it’s a filthy mess.

Warnings: little to no editing, swearing, bit of humor, dirty talk, a bit of guilt, hair pulling, slight choking, rough sex, low key masochism? (Idk they like their pleasure and pain), possessiveness, jk is sweet for a few seconds, unprotected sex (please be responsible), nipple appreciation (love to see it), praise kink  (Taehyung is a good boy), soft dom vibes, use of a wall, oral sex (f&m receiving), scratching, mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, mentions of yoga, usage of the words: princess and baby.

A/n: I hope you all enjoy! And as always I hope everyone stays happy and healthy. If you see a typo, no you didn’t, and if you don’t like fics like this, then don’t @ me I told you it was filthy.

A/n 2: I really want to send a shoutout to @mwitsmejk . Tbh I’d you hadn’t commented on the post I wouldn’t have written this, so I guess you could say this is for you ❤️😉

A/n 3: I’d also like to give a big thank you to @hobeemin and @jimidol for giving this a glance and making sure it was good enough to post.

© s0seo please do not copy or edit as protested under this license :)

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

You feel the words being whispered against your skin, pulling you from your slumber. From the gravelly tone, you're pretty sure it’s Jungkook.

For a moment, you think it’s just your imagination. After all, you were alone when you went to sleep last night, weren’t you?

A featherlight touch on your shoulder brings back everything that happened last night; the movie, the sex, god the sex, and ultimately falling asleep together.

‘Fuck,’ you think to yourself. ‘Why the hell did you have to make a move on both of them? And at the same time!’

This is definitely going to change things. But now, the only question is, how? You know that you’re interested in both of them and vice versa, but would they be willing to share?

God, just the reminder of the word makes you cringe internally at yourself. Telling Taehyung to share probably wouldn’t be that hard, but Jungkook… That needs to be handled...very, very delicately.

In retrospect, telling him that if he wanted you, he was going to have to learn to share while teasing him and making him watch as Taehyung fucked you was probably one of the worst ways you could have approached the subject. Well, you live and you learn.

The more you think about it though, the more you realize you don’t regret any of what happened. If anything you felt a bit satisfied at the look on his face as you took his ego down a few notches. What was it that Jungkook said to you last night right as you were falling asleep? “If it came down to it, you’d be all mine.”

Figures, you were a fool to think that just one night of teasing would get his ego under control.

A warm arm wraps around your body and you feel Jungkook’s muscular chest pressing against your back as he whispers, “I know you’re awake. If you want to avoid me, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

Maybe you’ll get another chance to play with his ego sooner than you thought. After all, putting him in his place and making him squirm has always been so much fun. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he enjoys it just as much as you do.

You release a quiet chuckle at his words before slowly sliding your body further back against his. If the firmness against your ass doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re awake, then his quiet groan in your neck certainly does.

Slowly opening your eyes, you hold back your disappointment as you find the space in front of you empty. Taehyung must have left early this morning to take a few photos. You know he’s been working on a photography project, but you thought he might have woken you up before he left.

“Morning,” you hear Jungkook whisper once more, his voice still scratchy from sleep. His fingers trace circles over your stomach, and as he presses his lips into your neck, you rub your ass against the hardness behind you, smiling to yourself as he releases another quiet groan. The sound alone brings warmth to your core.

You slowly turn over and look up at him. He stares into your eyes from behind his messy waves, his hand on his fist as he smiles playfully down at you.

“Hi there,” he says softly, and this time, his fingers slide along the curve of your waist. His smile is infectious. You’re almost tempted to run your hands along his body and turn his grin into a whimper. Almost.

“Tell me, were you pretending to be asleep because you regret what happened, or because you were hoping I’d wake you up with something other than words?”

His implication sends a wave of heat through your body, and you imagine just how good it would feel to be awoken by the feeling of his lips on your skin while his fingers tease you.

You return his smile as you admire his messy hair along with the visible bruise in between his throat and his collarbone. A small part of you knows they’re going to be an inconvenience for him, but you don’t really care. If anything, it only makes you want to give him more. Slowly, you reach up and brush your finger against his collarbone. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours.

“Neither. I was just waiting for you to leave so I could have the entire bed to myself again.”

You take the opportunity to give him a light playful kiss then trail your lips down to his neck.

“I guess that’s not going to happen now is it,” you pout playfully against his skin.

His arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer, and he rolls onto his back until you’re left straddling him. He looks up at you, smirking as his hands slowly travel down from your waist to your thighs.

“Now what kind of guy would I be if I left you without even saying goodbye,” he asks as his hands finally settle on your ass.

You know his words were likely meant to be a dig at Taehyung, but you ignore them and instead glance at your clock and smile. “Don’t you have to leave soon?”

“I’ve still got like an hour. I'm sure they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes,” he assures you. “Besides,” his hands slide up your waist once more as he sits up and glances over at the mattress where Taehyung should be. “What’s wrong with wanting you all to myself for a bit? Don’t you want to have some fun?”

He leans in for a kiss but you hold a finger up to his lips to stop him.

“Uh-uh. Go. You need to shower. I don’t want to be the reason you’re late. Besides, your morning breath is practically lethal.”

He lets out a playful chuckle at your insult and before you can react, he gives your finger a playful nibble and wraps his arms around you.

You release a cry of surprise when he rolls your bodies over and settles himself between your legs. One of his hands pins your wrists above your head while the other travels down to the side of your body and lingers.

“You want to talk about morning breath,” he teases from above you. “I’m pretty sure your snoring could be heard from the other side of the city.”

A smile fights its way to your face, you are reminded once again why you consider him one of your best friends. His jealousy and possessiveness might leave much to be desired, but he is also one of the sweetest, silliest, and funniest people you know.

You let out a gasp of mock offense and see a mischievous glint make its way to his eyes. His fingers slowly slide up to your rib cage, and as you stare into his eyes, you know what’s about to happen.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn as you try to hide your grin and narrow your eyes at him. He smiles down at you suspiciously, and before you can push his hands away they’re on your sides tickling you. You release a cry of laughter, rolling your bodies over once more to straddle his waist as you begin tickling him as well.

For a few seconds that feel much longer, the two of you continue to roll one another over and claim your victory again and again. Finally, Jungkook cries out in defeat and you settle yourself on top of him once more as you look down at him and gloat.

“Looks like someone forgot they’re ticklish too…”

Your breathing is heavy as you pin his wrists above his head and you fight off a receding wave of giggles. Leaning down close to his face you can’t help but smile down at him. His eyes sparkle, and his smile is wide as he gazes up at you and steals a glance at your lips.

As you take in his expression, you realize once again how much you care about him.

His bright eyes stare deeply into yours, searching for something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You’ve noticed this look before, many times actually. It’s as if you’re the most beautiful and important thing in the world, and if he looks away even for a moment, he’ll miss you.

This is the look that has made your heart skip a beat so many times over the years, he’s always been so easy to be happy with. Joking, teasing, even when you’re struggling, you’ve always appreciated how easily he gets you.

You glance down at his mouth, your fingers lightly caressing his face before planting a soft, slow kiss on his lips. His hips rise up in response, and you feel his firmness meeting your core as he grabs your hips and begins grinding your body into his.

You know that all it would take to keep him here is sliding forward a few inches, and if you did he probably wouldn’t even argue with you. It would be so easy.

‘No,’ you chide yourself. ‘He has to get to work.’

You’re not going to let yourself be the reason he comes home later complaining about how much he’s fallen behind on his workload.

“What am I going to do with you,” you sigh as you smile down at him and caress his face once more. Just the sight of him is so precious.

He reaches up and smiles, pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear as he admires you in return.

“I can think of a few things…” he teases.

“That won’t make you late,” you counter as he sits up once more.

“Well,” he says, “I do need to shower before I leave. Thanks to someone,” he teases, planting a playful kiss on your neck afterwards, “I got a bit dirty last night.”

“How unfortunate,” you pout, “well I just so happen to have a perfectly good shower that isn’t being used.”

His hands lazily massage your ass as he pretends to consider your offer.

“Who am I to refuse the offer of someone so beautiful and kind,” he asks, releasing a fake sigh.

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness and chuckle as you climb off of him, your smile now a copy of the one he gave you earlier.

As you watch him get out of bed, you admire his figure from behind. His shoulders and back are well toned, and the tattoos that run up and along his arm are all complimented by the curve of his biceps. Not to mention the scratch marks left on his shoulders from your nails last night.

“You know, normally I’d say it’s rude to stare, but in your case, I guess I should just ask if you’re enjoying the view.”

Your gaze travels from his lower body to his eyes, only to find him smirking at you over his shoulder.

In a lot of ways, you see yourself in him. His confidence, his humor, and his commitment to those he cares about is close if not equal to your own.

He was right when he said that the two of you were perfect for each other. However, what he continuously fails to realize is that unlike him, you can keep your cockiness and selfishness in check. Well, most of the time anyways.

You return his smirk and rise out of your bed. Making sure to keep your tone innocent, you walk up to him slowly.

Looking up at him from beneath your eyelashes, you glance down at his lower body and tease, “it’s nothing I haven’t seen before…nothing too impressive here...”

He releases a doubtful chuckle before turning around to walk into your bathroom.

“Umm what do you think you’re doing,” you ask him before he can take a step in.

He looks down at you in confusion.

“I thought you said I could use your shower?”

“Of course you can, but just because I let you use my shower doesn’t mean I’ll let you track water all over the floor once you’re done.”

He lifts his eyebrows up at you as if to say “really,” but you guide him out of your room and confess, “alright, you got me. I don’t really give a shit about the water, I just really have to pee, and as close as we are, I don’t really need you to watch me.”

He holds back a chuckle at your confession, but you ignore him and continue. “Besides, you need to get your toothbrush and your clothes anyways.”

He lets out a laugh at your words and gives you a nod of defeat. “Of course, I’ll leave you to it then.” He winks down at you before casually walking down the stairs to his bedroom.

‘For someone who said they needed to get to work, he sure is taking his sweet ass time,’ you think to yourself as you rush to your bathroom and finally manage to relieve yourself.

Afterward, you quickly brush your teeth and turn the shower water on so that it’s warm for Jungkook when he comes back.

While you wait for him to return, you take the opportunity to look in the mirror and check out the damage from last night.

As your eyes finally settle on your reflection, you release a gasp, trying your best not to cringe at your reflection. This is what Jungkook called beautiful just now?

Your cheeks are puffy, smudged mascara surrounds your eyes, and there are dried outlines of black tears scattered along the sides of your face. You reach up to put your hair in a bun as you inspect the bruises on your neck and collarbones.

‘That’s going to be inconvenient to cover,’ you think to yourself. It’s a good thing you don’t have class today. You don’t know what you’d do if your professor saw his most promising assistant with bruises all over her neck.

Still gazing at your reflection, you smile and admire the marks further down your body as you remember the feeling of the mouths that put them there. The potential thought of more is already getting you much more excited than it should.

The bruises on your shoulder blades from the wall Jungkook pinned you against match the ones on your thighs from how hard he grabbed you. You were aware of his strength, but feeling him grab you like that and watching his muscles flex as he pounded himself into you was really something else.

The image of the scratches on your back brings a pleasant shiver down your spine and into your core as you remember the matching set you gave Jungkook as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.

Just thinking about it makes you want to dedicate an entire day to let him fuck you again and again until you beg him to stop.

Now that you think about it, he seems so laid back about everything that happened last night. Maybe discussing your relationship won’t be that difficult after all. The understanding between the two of you might actually form on its own.

He’s always been this way with you. No matter what you’ve done, who you’ve slept with, or what others have said about you, Jungkook has always been by your side to support you, to care for you. Honestly, a part of you sometimes wonders why. You just wish he wasn’t so fucking possessive and cocky all the time.

The reflection of Jungkook’s slender frame pulls you from your thoughts, and you make a point of inspecting his body for any marks that might seem troubling.

“What,” he asks, his toned body walking towards you.

“I feel kinda bad for all of the bruises I left on you,” you admit. While they look pretty to you, you know that ultimately they’re going to be a problem.

He looks at himself in your slightly fogged mirror and shrugs at his reflection before wrapping his arms around the front of your body.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t really care about them.”

You lower your head a bit but persist, “Still, I probably should have asked if you were okay with it before I did it. I know I pushed you kinda far last night with the teasing and the pain.”

“Actually,” he looks up at the ceiling as he thinks, “I don't mind a little bit of pain, giving or receiving.” He adds the last part with a wink and a nibble on your ear.

“Oh really? And what about the teasing,” you ask, slowly turning your body towards him, ready to test his claim.

He grins down at you with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “I love a challenge.”

You let your eyes roam across his face and give him a smirk. “Noted.”

Reaching up, your finger traces over one of the marks you left on his neck, and grimace a bit.

“Won’t these be inconvenient to cover though,” you ask, adding a bit of pout to your voice.

He angles his head before asking, “now why would I cover them?”

“Well, they aren’t exactly the image of professionalism,” you counter.

He gives you a smirk. “What are they going to do, fire me from my own company?”

You open your mouth to argue, but he raises a finger to your lips to interrupt you. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

You open your mouth to bite at his finger, but he gives you an amused smile and releases a dramatic sigh.

“If anything,” he mutters quietly, “they might make work a bit easier.”

He leans back against the wall, a hand running through his hair as he gazes down at you through half open lids.

‘Easier?’ You ask yourself silently. ‘What the hell does he mean easier?’

You place a hand on your hip while raising an eyebrow. “I really don’t see how.”

Cockiness radiates off of him as he reaches grins and pulls your body to his. “Well, I usually have a hard time getting around the office without employees throwing themselves at me.”

His confession makes you roll your eyes. ‘Of course he can’t make it five feet without being hit on,’ you think to yourself sarcastically. ‘After all, who would ever be able to turn down the famous game designer Jeon Jungkook?’

Your eyes search his face for a moment. You can’t tell if he’s saying this to be honest or if it’s just to see how you’ll react. Knowing him as well as you do, it’s most likely a bit of both. You’ve seen first hand just how many people would like a piece of him. Yourself included.

Still, would it hurt him to show a bit of humility every once in a while? You let out a laugh at his brazenness. Surely he doesn’t expect you to fall for this does he? His hand slides down the curve of your spine as you bat your eyelashes at him. If he wants to be this way, fine. Two can play at this game.

“Why don’t you just tell them you have a girlfriend or something,” you ask, feigning innocence.

He leans his head back against the wall, a chuckle leaving his pretty lips. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but they never believe me.”

When you don’t respond and instead simply narrow your eyes at him, he continues. “I don’t have any proof. No pictures, no date nights, no random gifts. It's almost like I…” he raises his eyebrows at you dramatically, “don’t have a girlfriend.”

“And just how often does this happen,” you ask, vaguely aware of the jealousy lining your tone. Now that you think about it, as much as you complain about Jungkook’s jealousy and possessiveness, when it comes to the thought of someone else having him, you aren’t much better.

His glances down at you silently, slowly walking you backwards until he presses your body between the counter and his muscular body. The muscles in his arms flex as he places his hands on both sides of your body and traps you against him. His face is hovering just inches from yours now, and he gives you a smirk that quickly turns into a playful pout. “Every. Single. Day,” he whispers, bringing his lips closer and closer to yours with every word.

You trace your finger down the side of his face, your eyes conveying a look of mock sympathy. ‘Now he’s just begging for me to claim him,’ you think, as you graze your nails along his throat.

“Oh you poor thing, it must be so hard fighting off all of those pretty girls and boys every day,” you tease, your pointer finger now grazing his bottom lip as you continue. “Constantly begging for your attention, begging for you to make them yours…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, noticing your jealousy, “it really is. But you know what the most satisfying part is?”

You angle your head at him, and he slides his hand along your thighs before grabbing your ass and lifting you onto the counter.

“What?”

He glances down at your lips, whispering into the steamy air between your faces, “Knowing that at the end of the day, no matter how hard they try, they’ll never compare to you.” His tone is playful, but his eyes are serious. “I belong with you.”

“You belong with me,” you echo back to him, finding satisfaction in his claim. Your nails lightly graze his scalp and shoulder as you stare up at him, a seductive smile spreading across your face.

He leans into your lips and whispers, “I always have baby,” before meeting them with his own.

The kiss is passionate yet unhurried. Your tongue flicks against his bottom lip while your legs wrap around his waist to pull his body closer. As he opens himself up to you your fingers find their way to his jaw and firmly hold it in place. His lips break apart from yours as you stare into his eyes. “You’re mine,” You say slowly, placing one more kiss on his lips. He’s perfect for you. He moans into your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull your body into his while his head drops down to your chest.

You slide your nails lightly up the length of his abs as you pull away and bite down on his bottom lip. He’s intoxicating. His lips, his body, everything about him.

“Say it,” you breathe.

You release a whimper as his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your nipple, your fingers lacing through his messy waves.

“I’m all yours,” he says, his words followed by the sound of your moan as his fingers pinch your nipple.

“I told you I’d make you moan for me,” he whispers.

He lifts two of his fingers to your lips, and you roll your tongue around them

A gasp leaves your lips as his mouth travels to your other nipple while he lowers his fingers from your mouth to the wetness between your legs.

“God, you’re already so wet for me,” he groans against your skin before giving your nipple another sudden nip.

“Is it because you love the idea of having me all to yourself?”

He inserts one finger, then two, smiling as you whimper. “Maybe it’s the fact that you have a bit of competition,” he challenges as he adds a third.

You slide your fingers along the side of his face and firmly grip the back of his head between your hands. When his hand between your legs stills, you stare into his eyes and bring your face a breath away from yours.

“It’s because,” you confess quietly, while slowly sliding your hand down to his cock and wrapping your fingers around it. “I love the thought of other people wanting what’s mine.”

His cock twitches at your words, and you slide your fingers over the precum that coats his head, eager to spread it along the rest of him.

He releases a gasp as you tighten your grip and smirk. God, he feels so good in your hand. So thick and long, you can’t wait to have him inside you.

You throw your head back and whine as his fingers curl upwards, his free hand now reaching down to tease your clit.

“Who knew you’d be such a slut for my fingers…” He growls the words into your neck, your walls clench around him as his breath sends shivers along your skin.

“I could make you fall apart so easily…” he teases, increasing his pace. “With my hands…” he whispers, squeezing your clit and making you whimper. You feel your orgasm building with every sentence. At this rate, you’ll be cumming in no time.

“My lips…” he continues before trailing his lips across your throat and marking you roughly. “Even my c...cock…” he sputters out as your fingers lightly caress his balls while increasing your own pace. You can tell that his self control is slipping. Just a little bit further now.

He rests his forehead on the curve of your neck and releases a groan against your sensitive skin, his fingers still roughly hitting your spot over and over again. “Tell me what you want,” he groans. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

Your walls clench at his words. He’s all yours, only yours. “Harder,” you rasp as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck...” you gasp out.

He brings his lips to your ear. “You wanna soak my fingers in your cum, don’t you baby?”

You give him a nod and whimper as he reduces his pace to a slow aggressive assault, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“Say it. Tell me how fucking desperate you are for me.”

“Please,” you whimper, “I need you inside of me.”

“I’m all yours baby,” he whispers as he finds pleasure at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

Your hand leaves his cock and you grab him by his hair to pull him in for a desperate and forceful kiss.

“You’re mine,” you growl and meet his thrusts with your own as he returns to his deliciously aggressive pace.

“Only yours.”

You bury your nails into his shoulder as your orgasm barrels through you and onto his hand. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body and you hear him groan at the pain as he continues to tease you through your orgasm.

When you come back down from your high, he lifts his cum-soaked fingers to his lips and slowly licks two of them clean.

His last finger rises to your lips, parting them. He smiles as you meet it with your tongue and swirl it around the taste of your pleasure.

He removes his other hand from your clit and pulls your head back to look up at him as he smirks down at you. “Did that feel good? Using my fingers to fuck yourself…”

You nod up at him, your eyes staring into his fucked out gaze while your hand smoothly slides down to his throat. Slowly you pull his lips back to yours, your free hand and drops your free hand back down to his cock. “How about I return the favor,” you ask softly, smirking at him.

You give it a few strokes before pulling his body forward and sliding him into your inviting core.

He groans out at your tightness, his forehead dropping to your neck. As he finally bottoms out, you let out a gasp. A grin spreads across your face as his hands roughly grab our ass and he lifts you up and pins you to the wall.

You release a cry at the force of each of his thrusts while reveling in the pleasure as your nails dig into his back. The pace he sets is slow at first, too slow. “Faster Kookie...harder”

He brings one of his hands to your throat, his grip tightening as he increases his pace.

“That’s right baby. I’m all yours. Now let me hear how badly you need me inside of you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a whine as he rams into your g-spot.

“I want to hear you fucking say it,” he growls as he brings his face close to yours and tightens his grip around your neck.

Again, he thrusts into you. And again. And again. The pace is as brutal as it is satisfying as he continues at an agonizing yet deliciously brutal pace while hitting your pleasure every time.

“Please...I...I need you…fuck…”

You are a moaning, whimpering mess as he fucks you against the wall, your shoulders already bruising once more from the force of his thrusts. It feels amazing.

Your nails rake along his back and through his waves, pulling them harshly. He leans his head back, a groan of ecstasy leaving his lips at the combination of pleasure and pain as you tighten your legs around him and pull him in even deeper.

Reaching up, you grab his face and admire his concentrated features. “Put me back down on the counter.”

He turns around and sets you down just as you instruct him. “Good boy,” you say as you slide your body down until your feet hit the floor.

You see a look of annoyance cross over his face at the name, but it disappears as soon as it arrives.

You turn around, facing the mirror as you spread your legs and reach behind you to guide his lips to your neck. You sigh at the feeling of his teeth on your skin once more and lean your head back as his body slides against yours.

As his cock passes against your tailbone, you close your eyes, your head falling forward as he teases your lips.

“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

You feel his hand reach up and smoothly wrap his fingers around your throat.

His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making tour walls clench in response.

“Look at me,” he whispers into your ear as he slowly slides in and out of you once more.

When you open your eyes, the image before you brings a moan. You watch as his fingers slide from your throat to your breast and tease your nipple with his fingers.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your reflections are blurry, but that just makes it even hotter. Your gaze travels up to his and you tilt your head to the side and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you…” you groan out breathlessly as he begins slowly thrusting in and out of you, “to show me exactly what I’ve been missing all this time.”

You tighten around him as he pinches your skin, and he leans forward and begins marking your neck once more.

“Your wish,” he says before placing a rough kiss on your neck, “is my command princess.”

You have half a thought to offer a snarky retort, but all thoughts disappear as he slowly pulls himself out and suddenly slams back into you. You can’t help the cry that leave your lips, or the stars that fill your vision as he begins his grueling pace.

You watch the way his neck flexes as he thrusts, the way his lips curve as he gasps out. God he’s so fucking attractive. And he’s all yours.

You feel yourself tighten around him and find him watching your bodies through your reflections. Fuck he looks so good like this. You both do. The only thing that could make this better is if Taehyung was here too.

You lean forward, bracing your hands out in front of you as you watch your bodies.

“Fuck me harder. I want to feel all of you inside of me.”

He grabs a handful of your hair and forces you to arch your back as he grunts and buries himself even deeper. God he makes you feel so full. He’s so rough with you. It’s perfect.

You look into his eyes as every thrust forces a gasp out of you, his hand occasionally traveling down your back and slapping you ass hard.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock like this.”

You moan back to him in response and your eyes roll back into your head as he reaches around and begins teasing your over sensitive clit again.

“Fuck…I…I’m getting close,” you warn him. You try to fight off the pleasure, to make this moment last as long as possible, but he squeezes your clit tightly and growls into your neck. “Cum for me baby.”

When you whimper, he pinches your clit again and bites down on your neck. “Come on, don’t fight it… show me how easy it is to make you cum.”

You narrow your eyes at his reflection and release a cry as he slaps your ass hard once more and moves even faster.

“Come on...show me how much you love my cock…”

He slaps your ass again and places his fingers around your neck. You feel his breath tickle your skin with every gasp, his grip tightens as his lips tease the skin of your neck once more.

Suddenly, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and you feel your body stiffen, your legs giving out on you completely as your second orgasm finally crashes through you. He continues his thrusting and tightens his grip on your hips as he rests his body against yours and unloads himself inside of you.

You feel the vibrations of his groans through your skin and reach behind you to and guide his lips down to yours. As he finally pulls out, you look down at your legs and admire the mixture of your cum as it slowly slides down your leg.

Part of you imagines how hot it would be to see Jungkook and Taehyung on their knees in front of you licking it up. Who knows, with the way your relationship with them has been progressing, it might not be that unlikely.

Your focus returns to the man behind you, your legs still a bit shaky as you turn around. A small smile lines your face as you brush his hair from his face and caress his beautiful features.

He picks you up, and you wrap your legs around him once again as he carries you into the shower and sets you down on the built-in seat.

As you take a moment to allow your muscles to rest, you find yourself realizing just how out of shape you are.

Your body, for many obvious reasons, is exhausted. If your relationship with these men is going to continue, you’re going to need to start going to the gym again. Part of you is actually surprised you haven’t suffered from a hip cramp already. ‘Maybe some yoga would be better,’ you think to yourself.

As you somehow manage to rise to your feet and stand with him underneath the surprisingly still-warm water, your eyes close and a soft groan escapes your lips at the feeling of it.

When you finally open them again, you find Jungkook staring at you. His eyes follow the water as it cascades down your body, his teeth softly biting his bottom lip as his hands find your waist.

As your hands travel along his arms, you lean forward and drag your tongue along his neck. His grip on your waist drops down to your ass, and you begin trailing your lips along his collarbones.

You love how sensitive his body is. How easy it is to mark it, and especially how much he enjoys you playing with it. Especially his nipples.

Your lips make their way to one of his nipples, and he groans as you drag your teeth against it. Looking up at him, you smile as you slide your tongue against it and continue to tease it with your teeth. You’ve always loved watching him squirm.

Slowly, you move to his chest plate, your lips trailing featherlight kisses on his skin before continuing on to his other one.

He grabs your bottle of shampoo and squeezes it into his palm before massaging it into your hair. You close your eyes, a moan escaping your lips at the feeling of his fingers on your scalp. As the water washes the shampoo away, you take the opportunity to grab your body wash and work on cleaning his body.

You watch the bubbles form in your hands while he turns around, closes his eyes, and lets the water run over him.

He squirts more shampoo into his palms and this time massages it into his own hair while you reach forward and spread the soap along his body. God you could rub his body all day. His skin is smooth, yet firm as your fingers massage the bubbles into his muscles.

Now that you think about it, if you had known he was going to be this open with you this quickly, you would have made a move on him sooner.

His back arches as he leans into your hands, and you press your body against his back and begin spreading the body wash across his chest and stomach.

You let your hands slide lower and slowly wrap your fingers around his cock, smiling as he leans further into your body and lathers more body wash over his arms and chest. You place a few bite marks across his back and in between his shoulder blades and smile as he twitches in your palm.

Your hand begins sliding along his length, and he leans his head back and releases a groan as you slide your other hand up his chest and wrap your fingers around his throat.

His breathing quickens as you slide your thumb across his tip, and you gasp as he suddenly turns around and smiles down at you. His hands caress your face as he plants a sweet, lazy kiss on your lips. As his tongue slides against your lip, your hand returns to his cock, hoping to finish what you started.

He looks down at you once more and smirks before pulling his body away. “I thought you said you didn’t want to make me late?”

You narrow your eyes at him coyly and smile.

“Fine.”

“Good girl,” he whispers before squeezing a bit of body wash in his palm and spreading it across your body.

His hands slide over your shoulders and your breasts, then massage their way down to your ass, and finally come to a stop between your legs.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh as you feel his gentle fingers cleaning you up. Where the hell did he learn to do this?

His lips brush against yours, and a moan escapes your lips as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. God he feels good. His hands massage your ass, and as he pulls your body closer to his, you feel his still very much erect cock resting between your bodies.

Looking up and into his eyes you give him a smile, lower yourself onto your knees, and take him into your mouth. After all, what kind of roommate would you be if you didn’t help him get rid of the problem you caused?

He squirts some of your conditioner into his hands and massages it into his hair before doing the same to yours.

As his fingers slide though your hair he grabs a handful of it and throws his head back as you take him deep into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes as you lift up a hand and begin massaging his balls.

He reaches out and places a hand on the wall in front of him as he leans forward, grits his teeth, and watches you from above.

“I’m gonna cum.”

You look up at him from beneath your eyelashes and take him out of your mouth. Smiling up at him, you wrap your fingers around him and continue jerking him off nice and slow, your lips sucking hard around his tip over and over again.

He sucks in a breath and caresses your face as you stare up and smile at him.

“Come on Kookie, what are you waiting for? I thought you said you were in a hurry…”

You feel him twitch in your hand once more and he lets out a whine as you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock up from the base and around his tip and suck it extra hard.

“Please,” he breathes.

“Come on, show me how good you taste Kookie…” you tease, giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Show me how easily you fall apart for me…”

His hands brace against the wall in front of him and he blocks the water from hitting you as you drop your hand and finally take him as deep as you can.

You feel him tense inside of your mouth a moment before you feel him shoot his load down your throat.

He releases a groan, and he thrusts himself into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm.

Slowly, you pull your mouth away from him, lick up the remaining cum from his cock, and smile up at him once you finish.

He pulls you up to your feet and places a kiss on your lips as he moans against your mouth.

“Let me taste,” he whispers against your lips before meeting his tongue with yours.

He explores your mouth for a few seconds, and your hands rise up to his chest as you rotate your bodies and moan at the feeling of the warm water running down your back.

Your hand travels down to his length you pull away for a minute as you finish rinsing him off.

His hands caress your face, and you stare up into his eyes as he looks down and lightly kisses your nose.

“Where are your towels again?”

When you don’t answer right away, he shuts the water off and steps out.

“Unless you plan on me licking you dry,” he teases, “it would probably be a good idea to give me a hint.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully and point to the nearest cabinet beneath the sink.

“And here I was thinking that you would be smart enough to look for them.”

He tosses a towel at you in response and you wrap your towel around you and head back to your room to get dressed.

“I hope you don’t mind. I went ahead and laid all of my clothes out,” he calls as he notices you staring at his clothes on your bed.

You tilt your head at him and sigh.

“Guess that means I have to help you get ready then doesn’t it?”

You reach into your dresser and grab a grey shirt you ‘borrowed’ from Jungkook a few months back and slide on a pair of comfy black sleep shorts.

“Is that my shirt,” you hear him ask from behind you.

“Technically speaking, it’s our shirt. I distinctly remember that I’m the one who bought it.”

“For me.” He adds with a laugh as he puts his underwear on.

Your eyes follow his movements as he puts on his pants next. Before he can button up his shirt though, you grab his hands and sit him down in your bed.

You straddle his thigh and smile at him as you begin sliding his tie around his neck. His thigh flexes between your legs and you angle your head and smile at him as your fingers fasten his buttons.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this,” he confesses.

His hands slide along your body and finally settle on your ass as he looks up at you.

You leave a few of the top buttons of his shirt undone and look into his eyes for a moment. Just seeing the adoration written across his face as his gaze meets yours is enough to make you want to melt in his arms.

Taking his face between your palms, you lean down and place a featherlight kiss along his lips. He returns it earnestly. Your body responds eagerly to his hands as they travel along your ass and your back. Your mind however, keeps wandering back to his earlier confession. ‘If the workers at his office don’t believe he has a girlfriend, why not give them something to talk about’ you think to yourself.

Breaking the kiss, you lightly slide your lips along his jaw until you reach his throat, your tongue massaging his sensitive skin. Using one hand to turn his head and hold his jaw in place, the other slides beneath his collar as your lips find an empty space and mark it.

He releases a groan from beneath you, and you remove your mouth and place a feather light kiss over the fresh bruise before buttoning the rest of his shirt and tying his tie. That ought to be enough.

“What time do you think you’ll be back today,” you ask as you follow him to the living room.

He looks at his watch before sliding on his blazer and pursing his lips.

“Probably no later than six or seven. I have a meeting with a few of the game developers, and I need to fix some of the bugs that we found yesterday.”

You give him a nod. Seven should work fine. That’ll be just in time for dinner. You know that it would also be a good opportunity for all of you to finally talk and get on the same page.

“Okay. Tae and I can wait for you to get back and we can cook dinner together.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue as he responds dryly, “Sure.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he ignores your irritation.

“I better go. I’ll see you later,” he says before placing a quick gentle kiss on your lips and walking out the door.

You know that he’s probably upset that you’re including Taehyung in your plans, but he’s just going to have to get over it. Taehyung isn’t going anywhere, and if he wants to act like he’s the only one who can have you then he’s got another thing coming.

You run a hand through your hair and walk back to your room as you release a yawn. A few more hours of sleep probably wouldn’t hurt. You grab the damp towels from on top of your bed and hang them up before turning your lights off and crawling back underneath your blankets.

By the time you wake up Taehyung should be back and you and him could probably make some lunch. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll bring some food home. Hopefully he’s taken some nice photos while he’s out.

You curl your body into your blankets and close your eyes as you imagine yourself between your roommates once again.

~

Bright light shines against your closed eyes, and you turn your head away from it and find yourself underneath the body of your sleeping roommate. Well, half underneath him.

His head is resting between your neck and your shoulder and one of his arms is resting on your waist while the other is pulled against his chest.

One of his legs is resting between yours as he holds onto you like one of his body pillows from on top of your blanket.

You smile down at him and use your free hand to softly brush a few of his curls from his face.

He seems to still be in his street clothes. His loose white v-neck and his tan pants stand out against the black of your comforter.

“God he looks so good,” you think to yourself. “He’s even adorable when he sleeps. If not even more so,” you add after a moment.

The bruises on his neck as well as the bite mark on his shoulder, courtesy of your teeth last night, send a feeling of satisfaction to your core. He looks so good like this, covered in bruises you gave him, like marks of commitment to you and only you.

The thought of that alone causes you to slide your hand down from his face to his chest and trace your finger over one of the bruises you left there.

You hold back a smile as you hear the light sound of snoring enter your ears.

Looking over at your clock you see that it’s already two pm. It’s been about four hours since Jungkook left. You wonder how long Taehyung has been back now. Maybe he was waiting for you to wake up and eventually fell asleep.

A grumble from your stomach reminds you that it’s time for lunch and you look down at your roommate and try to figure out how to remove yourself from his embrace.

After trying and failing for a few minutes, your stomach and your bladder decide that enough is enough. He’s just going to have to wake up too.

You decide to be gentle, and lightly sweep his hair out of his face as you look at him. Your lips place a soft kiss on his forehead, and you feel him move beside you and pull your body closer to his.

You watch his eyes open slowly, and a small smile makes its way to his face

“Hey you,” you whisper softly as you stare into his eyes.

He gives you a smile and reaches up for your hand before kissing it.

“Good afternoon sleepy head.”

“How are you feeling,” you ask as you continue to smile at him. “Since last night, I mean.”

He purses his lips as he thinks about it before giving you a sweet smile.

“I’m good, better than good actually.”

“I didn’t push you too far last night did I,” you ask, keeping your voice soft.

His eyes widen momentarily and he shakes his head as he tries to reassure you, “no really I liked it I promise. You made me feel good about myself, so thank you.”

You give him a slightly relieved smile and move his hair out of his face flushed.

“Was there anything that you didn’t like? Anything that made you uncomfortable?” You ask as you trace a finger along his jaw and around his lips.

He begins shaking his head in response but stops abruptly.

“I...I just...I feel kinda nervous,” he confesses.

“About what?”

“I don’t think Jungkook likes me. I mean I thought we were friends and everything for a while, but once he found out I liked you, he just got really mean.”

Your eyes search his face. Sometimes you forget that he’s the oldest of your two friends. While Taehyung used to be more or a silly jokester when you first met him, he slowly became more shy as the years went on.

You aren’t exactly sure why caused the change, but his lack of confidence in himself is what makes him such an easy victim for Jungkook’s judgement.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” you reassure him. “He’s just jealous.” You know deep down that what you said is probably true, but the reality right now is that Jungkook’s jealousy towards Taehyung means that he’s already decided that he doesn’t like him anymore. Maybe you can change that though. You hope that one day he will regain that bit of confidence he had when you first met him.

You softly run your fingers through his messy curls as you think about how to make Taehyung feel more at ease while also convincing Jungkook to back off.

Suddenly, your nose picks up a smell. Looking down at your friend you ask, “Tae, did you shower before you left this morning?”

He tenses up before shyly looking away and shaking his head.

“Umm kinda, I rinsed off a bit, but it was really early so I just kinda threw on some clothes and left.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you pull out of his embrace. “You know how I feel about dirty bodies in my bed,” you groan.

He looks away again, but sits up and adds quietly, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night.”

“What was that,” you counter, both amused and a bit surprised at his sudden show of sass.

He clears his throat before correcting himself and explaining, “well I uh… I know that the blankets needed to be washed anyways so I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal you know… sorry.”

You hold your frown for just a few more seconds then break into a playful smile. “It’s fine, I need to wash these sheets today anyways.”

You notice him quietly release a breath and let out a nervous chuckle at your response before standing up and stretching. As his shirt rises, Your eyes slide to his stomach and you reach forward and slide your hand beneath it.

His cheeks redden as he notices your touch and you slide your fingers a bit further up his stomach as you say, “I don't remember telling you to leave just yet.”

He rests a knee on your mattress and leans into your touch, his eyes closing as your other hand reaches up to caress his face.

“Is that what you want,” you pout innocently, “to leave me all alone in here?”

He bites down on his lip nervously, and you slide your hand downwards now, already prepared to tease him.

You want to leave me up here all by myself? Just like this morning, without a single goodbye,” you pout as your fingers tease the waistband of his pants.

“I…I don’t want to wake you,” he sputters, a small whimper leaving his lips.

“But you missed all the fun,” you pout. Jungkook and i had a nice little shower together. I know it would have been so much nicer if you were there too…”

He gasps as your finger traces over the hard outline of his cock, but you simply ignore it and continue. “I could have helped you… the same way I helped him…”

He moves his knee, and slowly slides his body down to your floor. His sweet eyes stare into yours as he gazes up at you from his knees.

You move to the edge of your mattress and open your legs so his head can rest between your knees.

Taking your index finger and placing it beneath his chin, you lean forward and taunt him. “You would have liked that wouldn’t you? Watching Jungkook fuck me until I can’t take it anymore…”

He sucks in a breath, his gaze sliding to your mouth.

Your fingers slide through his curls and grab them roughly as you whisper, “maybe, you would’ve wanted to see the look on Jungkook’s face as you fucked every last thought of him out of my mind…”

He moans at the pain from his head and you place a light kiss on his lips. “Would you have liked that?”

He nods up at you earnestly.

“That’s too bad…” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders . “Maybe if you hadn’t left so quickly this morning you could have gotten all of them.”

When he closes his eyes in frustration, you gently slide his curls away from his eyes. You can tell he’s frustrated. He’s probably beating himself up for missing the opportunity to be with you again, and losing to Jungkook.

“I meant what I said earlier though.” You whisper conspiratorially, hoping to pull him from his thoughts. “You should probably take an actual shower. You still smell like the bar from last night.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and looks down at his lap as he nods.

“Yeah you’re right I don’t exactly feel clean right now anyways.”

You smile at him and playfully ruffle his curls as you say, “hurry up and shower, I’ll go ahead and put my blankets in the wash and then we can make some lunch when you finish.” He looks down at his lap, and you slide your fingers over the fabric. “Who knows, maybe we can have some desert as well,” you add with a smirk.

He gives you a nod as he stretches and tiredly shuffles out of your room before grabbing a towel from the hallway closet and heading to the bathroom.

You pull your sheets and blankets from your bed and bring them to the washing machine. You’re just about finished setting up your bed again when you hear Taehyung walk up behind you.

“Ooh that was pretty fast!”

You glance over at him, ready to respond when suddenly your mind goes blank. A stray droplet of water drips from his hair and along his chest as he leans against your bedroom doorway. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but when you saw him in the past you made a point not to let yourself stare, now there’s nothing stopping you.

“What,” he asks concerned, “is there something on me?” He looks down at his body and your eyes travel down to the towel hanging loosely around his waist.

Your mouth waters at the image of what’s behind the fabric and you begin having an internal struggle about what you want to do.

The sheets on your bed are new. You just spent the last twenty minutes struggling to put your bed together. But just look at him. How are you supposed to ignore how fucking good he looks right now.

‘Okay,’ you tell yourself, it’ll be fine. The sheets won’t get dirty, I’ll figure it out.’

You clear your throat and angle your head at your roommate who’s now looking at you like you’ve just grown a third head.

“Come here,” you whisper quietly, pointedly, as you curl your finger at him.

He walks towards you nervously, and your hands travel along his damp skin. He sucks in a breath as you reach forward and begin tracing your fingertips along the outline of his biceps. You feel the goosebumps that form along his arms and back as your fingers slide over it, and you let your eyes slowly roam up his body until you’re left glancing between his eyes and his mouth.

“Do you know how long it took me to put my bed together?”

He looks at your bed behind you and widens his eyes a bit.

“Umm a while?”

You reach up and lightly grab his chin.

“So long,” you answer, your lips lightly brushing against his.

Your hand slides up and down his chest and abdomen, your nails scratching his skin slightly as it goes.

He closes his eyes and sucks in a breath as your nails tease at his nipples, and you guide his body to your bed and sit him down.

“You know what that means,” you ask careful to keep his body in place.

When he shakes his head, you grab his chin firmly and whisper, “it means, we’re going to be very, very careful.”

He looks up at you, uncertainty filling his gaze, as you lean him back and climb up his body. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a few remaining water droplets dripping down his neck and chest.

His chest is your first stop, your tongue lightly sliding along his smooth skin until taking a detour to one of his nipples.

His hands travel to your hips, and he grabs them softly as he watches your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his nipple gently, and you lightly graze your teeth against the sensitive skin and pull.

His fingers tangle in your hair and you slide your tongue along his chest until you get to his other nipple and do the same. You notice that he’s already hard beneath his towel and let one of your hands untuck the fabric from his hips.

From somewhere in your room you hear your phone vibrate, but you ignore it. You have more important things to worry about right now.

Your tongue travels up his chest and along his collarbones, your lips placing light kisses over the bruises you made on his soft skin last night.

His hands slide along your thighs as they make their way beneath your shirt and around your breasts.

You grab his wrists and hold them together firmly above his head, your mouth returning to his for a slow hot kiss. Your tongue slides against his and you nip at his bottom lip before whispering, “no touching.”

He gives you a nod, and you slide your body until you’re kneeling on the floor in between his legs.

“You know, seeing all of that water on you made me so thirsty,” you tease.

He sits up and leans back on his elbows, biting his lip nervously before nodding down at you.

“Maybe you can help me with that.”

You curl your finger at him once more, and he leans towards you as he waits for you to continue. You lean forward and globe him a slow kiss while sliding your hand along his jaw. You pull back after a moment and slide your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Hmm, I thought that might help, but I guess I need more.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and you look into his eyes and bring two fingers to his mouth.

His lips part as you slide your fingers between them and his tongue swirls around them as you pull them back out.

“Good boy,” you praise as you slide your tongue along the same two fingers.

“Maybe this would make me feel better,” you tease as you slide your fingers over his precum and spread it along his length.

“Would you like me to try?”

He releases a whine before quietly groaning out the words, “yes...please...yes.”

You smile up at him as you slowly drag your tongue from his base to his tip.

His hands ball into fists as he gasps, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you take him into your mouth.

“Look at me,” you say. “If I see you look away or close your eyes again I’m going to stop. Understand?”

He gives you a quick nod. “I understand.”

“Good,” you say and take him back into your mouth, deeper this time.

You watch one of his hands move closer to you, and you lightly drag your nails along the insides of his thighs.

Again you hear your phone vibrate, but you’re so close now. You can’t just stop.

“Please, let me touch you…”

You slide your hand up and down his length and give him a nod.

“Sure.”

His hand slides around the back of your head and he grabs a fistful of your hair as you take him into your mouth again. You try to take him deeper each time, but he’s just too big. You feel him reach the back of your throat, and groan as your gag reflex threatens to appear.

‘Come on,’ you tell yourself. ‘Just a little bit more. If you could do it last night you can do it now.”

Your phone vibrates now for a third time, and you see Taehyung reach behind him and grab your phone from beside your pillow.

“Here, go ahead and take it. It seems pretty important if they keep calling.”

You take him out of your mouth and look at the caller ID. To your surprise it’s your father. Well, not technically your father. It’s his secretary. You know that he would never take the time to personally speak to you.

You roll your eyes and clear your throat before releasing a sigh of exasperation and accepting the call.

“What?”

“Hi Miss, Y/N, this is Keni Ouro calling from your fathers office, do you have a minute?”

You grit your teeth, as you glance at your roommate in front of you.

“Not really, what do you- I mean what does he want?”

“I’m glad to hear you’re available,” she responds sweetly.

“No I didn’t sa-“

“I have your father on the line,” she interrupts as usual. “Just a moment.”

Taehyung watches as your gaze hardens, and he mouths the words “everything okay” as you take a seat on the floor.

You give him a nod and cover the mic of your phone as you whisper, “I’m really sorry, can we finish this later.”

He wraps his towel around his waist once more and kneels down in front of you as he nods.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he whispers, “but you got this.”

He closes the door behind him quietly, and as he leaves you find yourself thinking you father better have a damn good reason for calling you out of the blue after all this time.

You hear a click on the line as your father finally picks up the phone, and take notice of your angry reflection across from you.

“Father,” you say, the word both your greeting and your method of irritation.

“Hello, Y/N.”

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

Tag list:

@mwitsmejk

@thedarkwinterrose

@ohhlalaniall

@neskapz

@bangtan-ology

@jimidol

@tangledsparkles

@baepsaesbae

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

A/n: So, this is... a different reader in comparison from the one in the first part but I kinda like it? Anyway, Im considering making a third part and im thinking it'll contain some smut. I used google translator so please don't judge me. Tell me what you think. Happy reading.

All that's left pt. 1

Warnings: angst, mentions of scars, swearing, implied smut?

Word count: 3.263

Summary: After moving from her life in New York, away from the Avengers and him, she finds happiness and a life that she actually enjoys, but that seems to last little when she spots the familiar jet on the roof of the building she lives in. Is she ready to face them? To face him?

*Three months later*

The warm air surrounding my body made me take a deep breath and unconsciously smile. I was happy, I was free, I was whole. I was with my neighbor drinking coffee in our usual spot, which was a cafe near the main street of the place that I decided was going to become my new home.

“Продолжай рассказывать мне о своем боссе, который сводит тебя с ума” (Keep on telling me about your boss who drives you crazy) Andrei said making me laugh and shake my head.

“Не о чем говорить, он просто засранец, который дает мне слишком много работы и заставляет меня плакать” (Nothing to talk about, he's just an asshole who gives me too much work and makes me want to cry) I laughed. I had met Andrei a week after I moved in and there was an immediate connection. No, it wasn’t in a romantic one, god no, we were just really good friends that had a lot in common.

“Now now, that was not what i saw the other day when i went to pick you up from work” He said with a playful smirk plastered on his light brown face. I gasped, a fake indignant expression on my face while my hand went to my chest. He laughed loudly. “Don’t play that card, I saw you!” he added

“I don’t know what you are talking about” I said, trying to fight the smile that tried to come out but failing miserably, we both laughed.

He and I had become quite close in the little time that we had known each other. He was an American with a Russian name. He explained that his mother was from the states while his father was a russian spy, they fell in love against all odds and eventually, Andrei was brought to this world. When he was fifteen his father died and he and his mom went to America, where he finished high school and surprisingly, entered the military. He did two tours before he decided that he had enough and returned to Russia. Hence why he could speak both Russian and English fluently. As for me, I told him that I was in some sort of organization that worked for the government, and that’s why I knew russian. He believed me, thank God,  I didn’t want to talk about how I was part of the Avengers and why I left. Obviously I will tell him when the time is right and I know that he can be fully trusted.

“Oh, come on Ames, are you going to tell me that you don’t like him one bit? Not in the slightest?” he asked, smiling and I shook my head. He stayed silent for a second and stared at me, like he was considering whether he should ask me something or keep quiet. “Is it because of him?” he finally asked, watching me closely to see my reaction. I felt my stomach twist at the mention of him. Of course it was because of him, because of them, I couldn’t afford getting hurt and betrayed one more time. Andrei didn’t know his name, or theirs for that matter, so I smiled weakly and nodded.

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid but… I just can’t afford getting hurt, not again, not anymore” I said looking at my hands.

“I understand, believe me I do” he said, his hand reaching out to hold mine. I looked up to find his brown eyes looking for mine, I saw nothing but genuine love -the friendly kind- in them. I smiled and squeezed his hand. He was going to say something but his phone rang; a notification. He withdrew his hand to look at his phone and the moment he did, people around us started getting up and running in the same direction. I looked at him confused to find him frowning at his phone.

“What is it?” i asked.

“The Avengers are here…” He said and my heart skipped a beat and my body went rigid. Andrei noticed. “What 's wrong?”. Well, there’s no use keeping him from the truth anymore.

“So, remember when I told you that I worked for an organization for the government? Okay don’t freak out and hate me but, here it goes” I took a deep breath. “That organization was called The Red Room were they trained me from a very young age to be a perfect cold-blooded killer, years later i escaped and was on the run until i got a new identification, name, address, new everything and then joined the avengers to amend the wrongs I made in the past. To my luck, it didn’t go great because it ended up breaking me the same way The Red Room did, so I left to find a fresh start and came here where I met you. Please don’t hate me” I concluded in one breath. Andrei was silent with a straight face, which was hard to read, and eventually after a few seconds that felt like an eternity and shrugged his shoulders. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN.

“Believe it or not, I've heard worse” he simply said

“Worse than finding out that your best friend is a train killer and former avenger?” i asked incredulously and he tilted his head and smirked

“US Agent mother and Russian spy father” He said. I laughed and he followed right after. “So, I'm guessing we are running away?” he asked. Say what now?

“We?” I asked, almost in shock to which he simply nodded, “You don’t think im just gonna let you go like that, please, is not that easy to get rid of me” he snorted. “And I'm supposing Amelia is not your real name either, given the fact that you ran off,” he added. Damn, he is good.

“Y/n, y/n y/l/n” I said and he slowly smiled

“Well y/n, nice to meet you, my name is Andrei Petrova” he said, extending his hand, i repeated his action with the same smile. “I’ve got to say, I like the name y/n more than Amelia '' he added and laughed. We were brought back to the matter at hand when the screaming of the people were getting louder. I snapped my head up and saw the familiar jet on the roof of the building where I was living.

“Here’s what we are going to do, I’m going to my apartment and buy us some time while you go get a car and,” i handed him my card “you are going to get all the money from my bank account. I will meet you in front of the cafe that’s two blocks away from my place”

“Are you going to be okay?” He asked with clear worry in his eyes. I smiled and nodded

“Yes, I promised. Now go” I said before he got up and ran. I sighed and went to my apartment. Was I really going to do this? After months, was I ready to face them, already knowing the truth? Well, guess I'm going to find out.

Once in the building I decided to programmed the lights to go out in 50 minutes and then I went to the elevator, wanting to appear as normal as possible even though I felt like my heart was going to explode from how fast it was beating inside my rib cage. When the elevator stopped at my floor I walked until I was standing in front of my door. I didn’t need to wait and confirm, I knew they knew I was here, now there’s only one thing left to do. But before I did anything, the door creaked open.

*10 hours earlier*

Bucky paced from one side to the other, finding himself incapable of staying put. Natasha sat silently on her chair, Tony was in the front with his head in between his hands, Steve was resting on the side of the wall looking at the floor, Bruce was just standing there holding his chin analyzing everyone in the room. Sam sat on the couch looking through his phone, Vision was sitting next to Wanda on the other couch, while Clint and Thor were sitting on the other chairs. Peter had some school stuff to deal with like the teenager that he was. They’ve been looking for her for the past three months, and about a week ago, a picture was found of someone that looked exactly like her, all except her hair that was a bit shorter and the color was different, but other than that, it was practically her.

Not wanting to get their hopes -or rather enthusiasm- up, they decided to look deeper and found out that the picture was taken a month ago in the city of Magadan located in Russia. They found out that before three months, the name Amelia Agapov, didn’t exist. The more they looked into it, the more they were convinced that it was her.

“The mission report from Agent Carter arrived, should i put it on the screen?” the voice of the AI filled the room. The team had been waiting for that report for days, the nerves of the question that lingered in the air ‘was it her?’ being present for that time only grew stronger as Stark asked FRIDAY to project the report on the screen.

Pictures were shown, most of them were about this woman buying in the market, having coffee with a guy, but there was one, where her face was looking straight into the lens of the camera, and it was that picture that left the people in the room absolutely rigid. It was her.

“We found her…” Tony said in a whisper. Everybody kept their gaze on the picture on the big screen. After months looking for her, they finally had found her. To everyone, it was like someone just discovered something new, a kind of relief and anxiety all at the same time.

“Suit up, we’re going to get her” Steve said to the group, but see, it was the choice of words from Cap that Bucky found unsettling.

“Get her? Like she is some kind of criminal?” he said, looking at his best friend dead in the eye. Steve opened his mouth to say something but Tony beat him to it.

“She was trained by The Red Room to be an assassin, we can expect nothing more from her '' He said, trying to calm Bucky down, but instead it only caused him to get angrier, and not only him.

“So was I” Natasha said, her voice low that could scare anyone to the bone if they weren’t so used to her.

"It's different" Tony said

“How is it different?” Wanda said this time, “It wasn’t when you practically recluded me after I helped Ultron and tried to kill you all” she added.

Tony sighed and looked down, realizing that he might be overreacting.

“Let’s just get suit up and get on with it” Steve said, cutting the rather awkward silence that filled the room.

The avengers were suit up and on the quinjet in less that forty-five minutes, and they were in Madagan in nine hours, it took them an hour to find her building, and once they found it, Clint landed the jet on the roof and they all got out and looked for her apartment. Funny enough, it was the same number as the one she used to live in New York; 108. They waited for what seemed an eternity until they heard footsteps just outside the door. Suddenly, the air felt thick with anticipation, but Bucky couldn’t wait any longer so he crossed the living room in two steps and opened the door. She was standing there. Silence took over the entire apartment until she broke it.

“Well, are you going to move so that I can get inside my goddamn apartment Barnes?” she said expectantly. Bucky realized that he had been staring at her since he opened the door. Her hair was different, more wavy and a shade or two lighter. He moved to the side and she was able to see the rest of the team. This was going to be one hell of an evening.

Breathe. In… and out…

It was hard. Fuck. Okay i can do this.

“Well isn’t this nice. All the team back together again!” I said with sarcasm dripping from every letter.

“What the hell did we ever do to you?” Steve said firmly.

“Damn, getting straight into it. That’s okay” i shrugged as I went to my room but the sound of the blasters of Tony's suit stopped me.

“Stop, don’t take another step” He said, lifting his hands and I smiled.

“Really? Well unfortunately i have to change, so i’ll leave the door open if it makes you comfortable” i said as i continued to walk to my room, and like I said, i left the door open.

“Y-you don’t have to do that, you can…” Wanda said but trailed off. I had taken my shirt off; my scars were shown.

“So, Steve” I broke the silence as I put on a black shirt, “the thing that you did wasn’t as bad as tin man over there, but you still let Hydra take me the day we took out the helicaries” i added. His face got pale and started shaking his head.

“What? No, you made it out safe, you-” He started saying but i interrupted him

“You sure? Who do you think stopped Rumlow when he tried to interfere with the exchange of the chip when you were in the helicarrier with Bucky?” He started thinking for a moment until he realized what I said fell into place. “Yeah, I took one hell of a beating, and if that wasn’t enough, I fell to the water. I fell thirty floors down, and I alone got myself out, because I didn't have anyone to cover me or have my back” i concluded.

“Your scars…” Tony said this time and i turned to him

“Yeah, thanks to you Mr. Stark” i said and he looked at me. “Doctor said that 74% of my body is covered with scars, along with one or two burns”

“You were that girl in The Red Room” Natasha said, causing me to turn my head to look at her and I smiled cynically, “You are Eliza” she finished.

“Давно не виделись с Натальей” (Long time no see Natalia) i said and she looked at me in pure surprise in her faced. That’s something coming from the famous Black Widow.

“What about the rest of us y/n?”  Sam said this time, redirecting my attention from Natasha to the rest of the group. Thor was standing there holding his hammer, Bruce was next to the fridge, Clint was by the sink, Wanda was with Vision beside the kitchen table and Bucky was by the door. They were all looking at me. I took a look at the clock, I have to leave in less than thirty minutes.

“Long story short, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Wanda and Vision are the ones that didn’t do anything, so just chill out, you are still on my good side” I smiled and waved my hand.

“Hold on, but what did I do?” Thor asked and I looked at him.

“God it really is unfair how such a little thing can cause such a big problem. The first time you came down to earth, met Jane, bla bla bla… when her stuff was under custody of shield, and you took that notebook; they blamed me. I know it may seem weird because, how? Thing is, I was undercover at that time inside Shield, so when the notebook disappeared, guess who was the one that got beaten for it. I couldn’t move from the pain.”

Thor was standing completely still.

“Lady y/n…”

“How is it possible? I was there  and never saw you” Clint interrupted Thor.

“It was before the avengers, i was on the run and a girl's gotta eat. Don’t worry, I never gave them anything. Got the money and then killed them, they were nobodies” I shrugged off.

“So, that’s all you needed to know, so if you please leave my…” I said but then he interrupted me.

“No” I would be lying if I said it didn’t send shivers down my spine at his tone, and I hate even more that he noticed it. “You’re missing one doll” Well fuck me

I turned to see him and he was walking painfully slow towards me and I was praying for my legs to not give out.

“Barnes” I simply said, thanking God and all the saints that it didn’t come out as a whimper. I took a look at the clock once more. I have to leave. Now. “Such a shame, wish you had fought for us, I would have gone through hell and back for you, Buck” his eyes were looking straight to my own and I felt like he was staring at my bare soul. In a way, he was. I smiled and I saw behind my back that the team was looking at us, we’ve never been this close, not in public anyway. I standed on my tiptoes and reached for his right ear, he instinctively reached down so it was a bit easier for me.

“If you want to know, you’ll have to find me first дорогой” (Sweetheart) I whisper. Next thing, the light went out just like I programmed it to and I slid beside Bucky to reach out to the door and to the hall. I could hear the team screaming ‘what the hell just happened’. I ran to the emergency stairs, and once out I could still feel him behind me, getting close. I went into an alley, having to detour, knowing that he eventually was going to catch up to me and I couldn't have him follow where I was really going. A few seconds later, I felt him caging me to the wall on the alley, both of us breathing heavily. His flesh hand went to my throat and his metal one rested on the wall.

“Given a different occasion, I would have loved this, don’t get me wrong, I still love how you…”

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked huskily and I smiled.

“I told you, you’ll have to wait until you find me again. Alone.” i said

“Come on Barnes, do you really think that the charade of being your personal fuck toy would last forever?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like that, i…” he said but trailed off. The pain in my chest starting and clenching my heart.

“There it is…” i said lowly, the hurt in my voice evident, “listen, i’d love to keep talking about how you used me, but like i said,” i got close to his face, my nose touching his, “find me to found out” after that,  I raised my knee kicking him right in between his legs.

He let out a pained groan and fell to the floor, causing his grip in my neck to give out. I took advantage and ran. Two blocks away, I saw Andrei. When he saw me running to him, he immediately got in the car and turned the engine on, then I got in.

“Drive, fast” it was the first thing i said

“Where?” he asked while we took off. I smiled and looked at him

“You’ll see”

-

-

-

Taglist

@silentkiller2374 @vikingqueenlove @girlfriday007 @supraveng

[even-after-a-millennia]

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests.  When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number?  You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace.  “Been looking for you.  Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany.  Towards more tests.  Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by. 

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!”  A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing.  “Book, I didn’t get here in time.  Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find.  You have to cut them off.  Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that?  A dream?  A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them.  Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy.  And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello?  Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it.  The call had connected, the seconds ticking by.  She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.  

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say.  “Corporal Nile Freeman.  Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said.  “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself.  You cannot get tested by those men.  It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said.  “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it?  She had felt herself die.  Dizzy had seen it.  Everyone thought she was gone.  They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening.  This is some bullshit.  Is this hazing or something?  Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said.  There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped.  “Please, you are not safe.  I know you are scared and alone.  But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate.  A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said.  “My family-  I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching.  “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head.  “What, why?” 

“Protocol for testing.  Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged.  “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering.  “C’mon, kid.  Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him.  “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket.  “Nah, nope.  Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs.  He let out a grunt and bent over.  She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain.  He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!”  The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.  

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her.  “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly.  “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.  

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.  

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options.  He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand.  She watched him until he was close enough to strike.  She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane.  He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee.  There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it.  She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain.  Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs.  Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate.  That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping.  We’re somewhere over Ukraine.  I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal!  Don’t do it!”  

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place.  The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane?  Was this some kind of test?  Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible.  She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her.  There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth.  Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way.  At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first.  She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone.  “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end.  “Fine.  We’ll meet in the middle and find her.  Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said.  “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water.  She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red.  She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand.  She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.  

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay.  Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was.  She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath.  The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.  

Then paused.  Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her.  It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience.  But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed.  Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air.  There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

[ragingbookdragon]

Le Château de L'Euphorie. She frowned as she checked the website of the club the gangbanger had given them when they cornered and finally tortured him into telling. Part of her was thrilled at the idea, the other part was absolutely embarrassed to even have to say what she was going to have to tell them—and this was coming from a woman whose kill count was probably higher than Jason and Roy’s combined—which was pretty high to begin with.

A grunt sounded behind her. “Hey, Vixen, you find the club that asshole mentioned?”

“I did,” she muttered, turning to face Jason and Roy. “But I don’t think showing up in our suits is going to be a good idea.”

“Why’s that?” Roy asked and she groaned, handing him the phone. He took it and read the screen then he looked at her, a face splitting grin on his lips. “You’re joking?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. That’s the type of club it is.”

Jason started walking over. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not a nightclub, Jaybird,” Roy replied, then waggled his brows. “It’s a sex-club.”

“What?” he blinked and glanced at her. “Is that what it is?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Jason sighed and shook his head. “So, our suspect’s hiding out in a giant orgy? Wonderful.” He gestured to his guns. “You’re right though. If we show up in combat gear, we’ll get more than a few people hurt.”

“I think some of those people would enjoy it,” Roy quipped, adding cheekily, “There’s a BDSM section in there. Ooo…and there’s a toy area.” He grinned. “I love this place already.”

Taking back her phone, she scowled at Roy then met Jason’s gaze. “So? What do we do?”

He thought for a moment then shrugged. “What kind of lingerie do you have at the safe-house in Parks, Vixen?”

She blinked as her cheeks warmed. “Huh?”

“If it’s a sex club, we’re gonna have to dress like we’re looking for a good time.” Jason nodded at Roy. “We’ve got suits back at the safe house and it won’t take much to make us look like sex club material.” He eyed her and she nervously shifted her weight between her feet. “That means you’re the odd one out. Got anything?”

Her mouth opened, then she shut it, and tapped at her phone. “I’ve just bought this from a store.” She turned the screen and flashed an online image of an open cup baby doll. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire when he took the phone from her and glanced at it before gazing at her, eyes scrutinizing her front.

“Yeah,” he started lowly. “That’ll work, Vixen.” He handed her phone back to her, but he didn’t let go when she took it. “What color did you buy it in?”

“What?” she whispered, sure she hadn’t heard him, and someone’s lips brushed her ear.

“He asked what color it was, Vixen,” Roy murmured, and he caught her eye. “The baby doll.”

She swallowed thickly and suddenly became very aware of how the archer had practically pressed himself against her back, and Jason was only inching closer to her front.

“I’m, uh, I’m really failing to see how that’s relevant,” she cleared her throat, heart beginning to thump against her rib-cage. “To the job, that is.” Her eyes were focused on Roy, so she didn’t have to watch Jason as he stopped moving just an inch away from her.

“It’s so we can match our shirts to your lovely dress, Vixen,” Jason purred, and she giggled nervously as one of Roy’s hands slid up her backside.

“Lingerie isn’t really a dress…” she replied, back arching slightly when the archer’s fingers traced her spine. She was pressed up against Jason now and she breathed, “But it’s…black…with red trim.”

“Gonna wear any jewelry with it?” Roy questioned.

“Probably gold,” she whispered. “I’m still deciding about the heels though.”

Jason hummed and reached up, gently grasping her chin. “Wear red pumps.”

“I don’t know if I have any.”

He smirked and glanced at Roy. “Leave that to us, doll.” Jason pulled away from her, as did Roy, and they both started towards the door of the warehouse, leaving her bothered and missing the warmth of their bodies.

“Say, Jaybird, red or black shirts?”

“Red,” Jason replied and opened the door, gazing back at her. “We’re called a trio, not a duo, Vixen. We’ve got a party to get to.”

She shook herself slightly and finally got her feet to move, hurrying towards the doors. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

“Oh you will be.” Roy mused as she shoved past them, and the two of them snickered when she shot them a glare but with how flustered she was, it wasn’t threatening in the slightest.