#like i���m sorry who gave you the right to stomp on my heart like that

[lixzey]

No one's ever had me not like you

✨ give me a scenario + character for headcannons!

First off happy birthday!

Can I have Evan Buckley with a daughter of Bobby reader? (Totally not projecting my 911 DR right now)

Like relationship headcanons and date ideas and all the fluff please and thank you!

Because sometimes squishy is a 30+ man

Take care of yourself!

what if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind?

evan buckley x nash!reader headcannons part one!

• I firmly believe that the two of you would be a grumpy x sunshine kind of trope. A slow motherfucking burn kind of romance, if I do say so myself.

• The day he arrived at the 118, he immediately tried flirting with you. “Hey, miss?”

• The look on his face when you told him your name was priceless!

• Buck definitely tried to get on your good side the minute he found out you were the captain's daughter. 

• Bobby was a bit skeptical of letting you dive into intense...fires, you know? because of the fear of losing you—his only surviving family—was bugging him. you didn't know what you were thinking, but you said: “Don't worry dad, Buckley's here to protect me, if I ever—God forbid—need it.”

• Which, Evan Buckley unfortunately heard, of course. “Protect you, huh?” Buck teased, grinning at you so annoyingly smug. “Didn't know you thought of me so highly, miss Nash.”

• From that day on, Evan motherfucking Buckley made it his personal mission to annoy the hell out of you. Why? Because he thinks you look cute when you're mad.

• The two of you argue over the smallest things, it actually drives Hen and Chim crazy because the two of you ask them who's right and wrong. 

• Speaking of Chim and Hen, they are 100% done with both of you. You two haven't even been at the 118 for a year but it sure feels like it with all of the bickering. You would always rant to Hen about Buck's annoying antics “That...that fucking grin of his- Ugh! I swear to God, Hen, one day I'm just gonna snap and pretty sure I'm gonna murder him, and you are helping me dispose of his dumb ass.” and Hen just chokes on her coffee, looking at you with wide, terrified eyes. “Sorry, what?” 

• Meanwhile, Buck is yapping to Chim about your cute annoyed little pout. the poor guy has heard buck ramble on and on 

• Your dad has had to pull you away from evan multiple times per shift, seems like you inherited his temper. 

“Is she always like that, Cap?” Buck asks with an amused chuckle as he watches you stomp away with your arms folded over your chest like a child throwing a tantrum. Bobby sighs, giving him a stern look—more like an exasperated one, Buck couldn't really tell. 

“I'm afraid she's got fire,” Bobby placed a hand over Buck's shoulder, causing him to tense slightly. “Think you can handle more?” 

Buck stared at Bobby, like he'd grown another head or two. “M-more? what do you mean, more?” 

Bobby raised a brow. “I thought I heard you tell my little girl you'd protect her?”

• After that little moment with your dad, Buck literally started protecting you. A fire? He’s pushing you away with a big ass smug grin on his face. “I got this,”  God, that annoying grin of his was getting on your nerves so badly, you almost hit him with the line hose once.

• The arguments went on and on, of course. Buck would often tease you about being, well, a damsel he loves saving. And you’d always clap back that he’s an annoying peasant that should bow down to you, because you’re no damsel, but a queen. 

• Cat and dog, the nickname the whole 118—including your father, unfortunately—gave you and Buck, much to your complete, absolute, annoyance.

• You’ve always viewed Evan Buckley as this manwhore, annoying, little shit starter, but when he fails to save a person in a roller coaster accident, your views change drastically. 

• He has a heart, and you saw first hand how everything affected him. Which honestly gave you flashbacks when…your mother and siblings died and you couldn’t do anything. 

• You helped Buck with the guilt he felt, and it somehow made him feel better. It was also the very first time he saw you smile at him, easing his worries even for just a split second.

• Sometime later, you and your father didn’t show up for work. Buck was worried—terrified, almost—because all of his texts and calls were left unanswered. You always answered texts, even before when he was still the annoying douchebag, you answered. Turns out, your father was relapsing with his alcoholism, and you were reliving the past trauma.

• You were a mess when Buck and Hen arrived at yours and your dad’s place. You had been trying to get your dad to come out of his room, but all of your efforts were in vain. It was like you forgot that you were a trained firefighter, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything aside from calling your dad’s name from outside his bedroom door the way you did after the loss you and your father faced.

• As soon as the apartment door opened, Buck immediately came running towards you, not even letting Hen get to you first to check you out for any injuries or whatever. Evan Buckley just wrapped his arms around you, and you broke down crying like a little girl, holding onto him for dear life.

• After Hen got your father sane, you and Bobby recalled the day of the accident, which honestly gave Buck a better insight of you. From that day on, somehow, you and Buck became friends. 

• Do not get me started on Abby Clark. 

• You hated her, but you wouldn’t admit it (Hen definitely noticed how your face would contort into a look of disgust whenever she was mentioned.)

• And Buck just HAD to date her, aka creepy old lady.

• The look on your face was absolutely priceless when Buck invited her to Chim’s welcome back party. Let’s just say the poor cake you had didn’t deserve the stabbing.

• And him going on a DATE with her???? That Chim and your father took holiday duty for?????

• Technically, it wasn’t Abby’s fault that Buck choked on a piece of bread (you were mad and worried, but you still laughed a little-) but you still blamed her (you are not a girl’s girl when jealous- is that what it was?, that’s for sure.)

• As Buck, well, pushes through with his new relationship, you grew a bit distant with him, which confused the fuck out him because he thought you were friends. You had to assure him that yes, you were friends, but you also had a life of your own. Funny, because you just sulk in your home every day because of, well, you know. 

• You tried meeting other people. It was weird, to say the least. When Buck found out, he almost choked on his water (see what I did there?). At least your dad is on the road to finding happiness again.

• Okay, so let’s do a quick uno reverse. 

• Eddie Diaz, the new guy, who caught Buck’s attention. Why? Because he was a bit too chummy with you for his liking. 

• And there you two go again, arguing like petty middle schoolers.

• You were siding with Eddie with everything, with infuriated Buck so bad he wanted to bang his head on the gym equipment. 

• Because what the fuck did you mean when you told Eddie he should join the freaking sexy firefighter calendar????? Was he not sexy enough for you????? Bro was having a midlife crisis at this point.

• Buck constantly judged everything Eddie did, and it was getting on your nerves, to the point of-

• Okay so, long story short, Buck and Eddie become friends after you snapped at them during an argument. The way you shut Buck up completely was honestly amazing, because he literally said “Yes, ma’am.”

• And then you and Buck finally meet your new godson, Christopher! Buck was a sweetheart, honestly, you loved seeing him interact with him.

• Everything was fine, until this reporter came in. 

• God, you hated those cameras. You wanted to punch them and her for constantly being in your space. 

• On the bright side though, you now have a new mom: Athena! And a new friend, aka Maddie Buckley, Buck’s big sister! You love hearing stories about Buck from her, and you consider her as your new favorite person.

• Speaking of Maddie, when her deranged ex-husband kidnaps her, you helped Buck find her, despite your dad and new mom’s protests. 

• When the 118 was targeted by this bomber (you wanted to strangle the kid with your bare hands) you were absolutely torn. Buck’s legs were crushed by the fire engine caused by the explosion, to add salt to the injury: you and your dad were the MAIN targets. 

• Even though Buck was in immense pain, all he could think about was you, only you.

Buck screamed in pain, his legs trapped under what felt like tons and tons of weight, but when he saw you, crawling towards him, somehow everything in his body felt fine. You were now his main concern. 

“Y/n- ah!” Buck screamed out in pain, struggling to reach his hand out towards you. “A-are you- ah! Okay?”

“Buck!” You cried, taking his hand in yours, desperately trying to push the damned heavy truck off of his legs. “Someone help! His legs are getting crush, for fucks sake! Help me get this thing off of him! Someone!”

• THE WAY YOU FUCKING CURSED THE LITTLE FUCKER WHO CAUSED THE EXPLOSION-

“Let my friends go, you stupid dumb fuck! It’s me you want, right? To get revenge on my dad? Let them go! They didn’t do shit, you stupid brainless son of a bitch! Let them go! I swear to all the deities out there, I personally escort you to hell! I will drag your corpse straight to motherfucking satan if you don’t let my friends go right this goddamn instant!”

• Way to get someone’s attention though, because of that your dad got the upperhand (Bobby was surprised by your vocabulary, though).

• You held Buck’s hand while the people around you helped to get the truck off of his legs. You tried your best to soothe his pain, despite your own broken arm (Who cares about your arm? Hell, you don’t even care about yourself, the only thing that mattered to you then was Evan Buckley).

• You were there by his side when he got to the hospital, and refused to leave. Athena and Bobby had to talk to the hospital staff to let you stay, because there is no way in hell you were leaving him.

• You comforted Buck when he was told that his injury was severe, and that he might need to consider another career. You glared at the doctor, whilst holding Buck’s hand tightly in yours.

• Five months after the accident, when Buck was finally cleared (oh, so you all thought-) you were absolutely happy and your mom and dad could see that. Pretty sure from that point onwards they knew you had feelings for Buck because when he coughed up blood, you were the first one to respond and do shit. 

• After finding out he is no longer cleared to go back to work, Buck quits the LAFD and starts spiraling. You ask Eddie if he could bring Christopher over, to cheer him up—which helps, thank God. You and Buck bring Chris to Santa Monica, for a bit of well-deserved relaxation, almost looking like a little family (Buck may or may not have thought about that-).

• You and Buck almost had a moment, standing so close to each other, barely and inch separating both of your faces, AND A FUCKING TSUNAMI RUINS THE GODDAMN MOMENT.

• Even after being injured only months prior to the tsunami, Buck put yours and Chris’ safety first. Jesus, the man could RUN with you and Chris in his arms.

• The three of you managed to hold onto each other for a while, with you practically refusing to let go of Chris—maybe it's the trauma of losing your younger siblings, or something else—like he was your lifeline in all of this shit that was happening around. Same goes with Buck, but it’s mainly you who’s anchoring him down. The way the both of you almost lost your minds when Chris got separated from you was honestly crazy, Buck had to hold you by the waist so that you wouldn’t swim through the running waters in search of your kid, even though he wanted to do the absolute same. The breath the two of you breathed out when you saw Christopher safe and sound, looking for his ‘Buck and Y/n’, oh, you almost cried on the spot if you weren’t so dehydrated from helping throughout the stupid tsunami. Eddie couldn’t thank the two of you enough for putting his son first in a calamity. At this point he owes you and Buck his life.

• When Buck decided to sue the department and city for wrongful termination, it caused a rift not only between the two of you, but with the whole team. You were mad at him, because was it wrong to think about his safety first? It was actually you who suggested it to your father, in hopes of helping Buck get the medical help he needed first before finally getting back into the workforce, but he took it the wrong way when you and your family tried explaining it over dinner.

• You and Eddie decide to ignore him, even though it pained the both of you because Buck was your best friend, the only person you and Eddie trust in this world to have your backs and everything. Now, the two of you had to rely on each other now.

• When the team encounters Buck at a supermarket, you snap at him. Giving him a dose of reality he needed to hear. No one could stop you, even your own father could as you lashed out on this man, who you only wanted the best for. This little interaction leads to his reinstatement to the team (Partially, as everyone is still mad at him, until Eddie, Hen, and Chim finally forgave him). Yet, you still avoided him at all costs because of how much he hurt your feelings with all the shit he pulled. You still went with your dad though after finding out that Buck was in the emergency room (still acting mad, but in reality you almost had a heart attack when you found out.) You quickly left when he said he was fine, much to the confusion of your father, since you were so adamant on coming with your dad to see if Buck was alright.

• Okay, so after that little stint in the emergency room, Buck is now a regular in your life again, as he is now a full member of the 118 again without any restrictions whatsoever. Which made it harder to avoid him, since you still felt a bit, well, heartbroken. Honestly, you were so confused with your own feelings, you thought it was better to stay the fuck away or else you would have punched him in the face the minute he initiates small talk or whatever. Buck tried everything to get you to talk to him, or at least yell at him or something since it was his and your thing, where he’d annoy you and you’d snap at him for being a little shit who won’t take no for an answer. Hell, he even got Eddie, Chim, and Hen on board (begrudgingly, might I add, as they do not want to invoke your anger, really.) with his plan. Like, them purposely taking seats close together and leaving seats opposite of each other or side by side for you and Buck to take with no other choice. It was torture for Buck more than it was for you, because he missed you. 

• Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Maddie are absolutely tired of hearing Buck talk about you. Like, if they hear one more word from him, they’re either banging their head against a nearby surface or taking an ungodly amount of alcohol or coffee to be able to cope with this whining from Buck. At least they aren’t hearing from you. You practically detached yourself from them (they’re honestly worried, especially Eddie, Hen, and Chim), you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was working in terms of being left alone.

Okay, let’s get to Christmas!

• After learning that Christopher isn’t happy about spending Christmas without his favorite people—his father, his Y/n, and his Buck—you feel a bit guilty, I mean, all three of you are. You’ve just been so…busy? With your father’s health being on the line caused by hazardous radioactive material, you were just so stressed. You’ve already lost one parent, and you were not going to lose another. Athena was your rock during all of it, and she was the only person you’d talk to about your mind and heart messed up by someone named Evan Buckley. To relieve everyone’s worry, Athena and Buck managed to throw a Christmas party at the station for everyone. You loved the party, getting to spend time with your family was the best thing you could ever ask for. You felt a bit like yourself again, but there was still this longing ache inside of you that you couldn’t shake. God, it was annoying. Because deep inside, you knew this longing was something else. Who knew stolen glances between the two of you would feel like this? 

• In the middle of everyone mingling at the party, Buck managed to pull you aside (downstairs, but yeah), and surprisingly, you didn’t pull back. It was as if his touch was your vice and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Uh, hi?” Buck awkwardly smiled at you, scratching the back of his neck as if he was in high school trying to ask a girl out for the very first time, though, you highly doubt that he was like that during his years as a high school student with the personality he had. “Are…are you enjoying the party, so far?”

God, is this what the two of you have reduced to? Cringe worthy small talk? Jesus Christ, what the fuck? 

You gave him a little smile, pulling your hair to the side, trying to hide the growing awkwardness—more like something else—that you felt deep in your bones. “Yeah, it’s…fun, really. I’m glad you and Athena thought of this, it’s quite thoughtful of you to think about everyone.”

A nervous chuckle leaves his throat, his eyes meeting yours after all of those secret glances in the middle of the crowded party. “I’m glad you liked it.”

The two of you stood there, face to face, your heart beating uncontrollably inside your chest like a machine gone haywire. Sweet baby Jesus, how on earth does Evan Buckley’s presence make you feel…stuff like this?

And then, Buck took a step forward, standing a few inches away from you. He was so close, but you still felt so far from him. Without thinking, you took a step forward, meeting him halfway, with only a few centimeters separating the both of you, his breath hot on your cheek as the two of you locked eyes like those romance movie posters. God, why is he so tall? You were already on your toes just looking at him.

“Hi,”

“Hey,” Buck laughed, finally closing in the distance between your bodies, your lips almost touching, sending a shiver down your spine as you placed your palms onto his chest, feeling his heart beating the same way yours did. He then wrapped a strong arm around your waist, and then he kissed you. 

And you kissed back.

God, is this what love feels like? A warm, fuzzy feeling spread all over as your body kissed the living daylights out of you, devouring you like it was the last day on earth and he wanted to make it last at least until everything faded into the cosmos or whatever. A moan escaped your throat as Evan picked you up in his arms, like one of the kisses in those cheesy romantic comedy movies. Somehow, everything about this felt absolutely right. Everything made complete sense now, Evan Buckley was your true north.

You could have stayed like this forever, wrapped in his arms as the two of you hungrily made out like two lovers separated by war, but all fantasies have their limits. Maddie and Chim spotted the two of you, and well, it left you and Buck, rather breathless.

Evan Buckley tasted like heaven and hell, intertwined in a perfect storm of love and admiration that made you craving for more. Fuck, how the hell does he manage to make you feel like this? 

If it wasn’t for Maddie and Chim standing there, you would have gone for seconds, thirds, maybe even fourths, fifths, and so on. You were in too deep with him now, but Evan Buckley was already far deep down that hole—having realized that he’s been in love with you for the longest time.

After that breathtaking kiss, you and Buck quickly ran upstairs, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Anyone with functioning eyes could easily decipher what just happened, the smudged lipstick was already a dead giveaway. 

“Looks like someone finally got the courage to ask the girl out!” Hen grinned, placing her plate down onto the table. “I won, pay up everybody!”

“What?” You asked, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You bet on us!?” 

“Who wouldn’t?” Chim answered, taking out ten dollars out of wallet. “I’m not even mad at losing the bet. Hell, I’m absolutely over the goddamn moon for the both of you! It’s about fucking time you two got together!”

You stared at him, your cheeks tinted pink, either from the kiss of your life, or the embarrassment you felt. “God, are we that predictable?”

“Yes, you are.” Your father laughed, walking towards you, Athena following suit. “We’ve known for quite a while, darling.” 

“Dad!” You looked at your father, horrified. “You knew? You actually knew, knew?”

“Oh, baby,” Athena placed a hand on your shoulder, motherly as always. “Your father knew the minute you complained about Buck.”

“You complain about me, huh?” Evan gave you a teasing grin, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “How mean of you, miss Nash, you wound me!”

You glared at him. “Shut up, Buckley.”

“Make me, Nash.”

“How cute!” Maddie gushed, loving the way her baby brother looked at you like you were the only person in this crowded area. “Buck’s finally happy, I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“He’s finally found his match,” Chim chuckled, watching you and Buck argue like children, which was almost endearing to see. “I’m just glad that I won’t be hearing Buck whining again.”

“Hey! I do not whine!”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie said, patting Buck on the back. “You’ve been whining about Y/n not-”

“Shut up,” Buck grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. “We get it. I was a whiny baby because of my beautiful, amazing, girl who never fails to make me crazy with her.”

• And just like that, you and Buck are finally an official couple with Bobby and Athena’s blessing (Bobby gave Buck the protective father talk, let’s just say Evan Buckley would be an idiot if he hurt you in any way possible, he'd personally beat himself up if he ever did so.) 

• Evan Buckley is a simp, I say this lovingly. Like: “Look at my beautiful girl!”, “Hey, you see that? That’s my woman over there!”, “Isn’t she just amazing?”, “I love her so much, it hurts!” Eddie, Chim, and Hen have escaped whiny Buck, but now they have to deal with an in love Evan Buckley. 

• He keeps a photo of you practically everywhere. In his wallet, locker, phone, the bac of his phone, his name plate thingy where the gear are, EVERY FUCKING WHERE. 

• Pet names!! This man loves to call you a bunch of tooth rotting pet names like sweetheart, bunny, my love, lover, baby girl, princess, sweet pea, darling, my beautiful angel, honey, angel baby, love of my life, queen of my heart, the flame in my heart and a shit ton more. Buck definitely beat the record for cheesy pet names. 

• Buck loves seeing you in action on the field, like “That’s my girlfriend, you suckers!” kind of vibe. But he does step in when the situation gets dangerous for you. 

• Dates. DATES. Dates!!! Evan takes you on a date every day off from work. Honestly, he specifically asked Bobby to give him the same days off as you so the two of you could spend time with each other and have fun (but not too much fun - protective father Bobby Nash).

• Your favorite activity to do with Evan is definitely cooking! 

• Okay so, remember Jeffrey Hudson? Yeah, him. Buck is absolutely terrified that you’d be his next victim. After everything that happened with Athena, he fears that as an act of revenge towards your step mother, he’d kidnap you and….let’s just say Evan never had peace of mind after that. 

• Because of said fear, Evan asked you to move in with him, with Bobby’s blessing, of course. And you said yes! Living with Buck felt so natural, the domestic kind of life felt nice. I mean, the two of you weren’t only just playing house, but it’s kinda like a preparation for what’s to come. 

• Remember Abby? Well, Buck doesn’t care about her anymore. In fact, during the rescue, he told her “My wife and I are going to do everything to rescue your fiancé.” Him calling you his wife???? MADE YOU MELT! 

“Wife, huh?” You grinned, fixing your harness for the rescue operations. “I’m flattered, Buckley. But where’s my ring?”

“I-uh, you know I just said that-”

“I know, baby.” You kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, my future wife.” Buck smiled, kissing your forehead. 

“That’s more like it.” You giggled, tugging on your straps to make sure they’re safe and secure. “Come back to me, alright?”

Buck nodded, placing another kiss on your temple. “Always. You stay safe, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Evan!”

“I love you too, Y/n!”

• When Maddie announces that she and Chim are expecting a baby, you and Buck were so excited! Auntie Y/n and Uncle Buck for the absolute win! 

• When Buck and Maddie’s parents came to visit, you stood by your boyfriend, holding his hand because you knew everything about his childhood and that he was seeing a therapist for it. And when the secret about their older brother was revealed, you were Evan’s rock—the only person he knows that would never lie to him. 

[only-lonely-stars]

The Heart of the Mountain

Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

After the Tournament of the Sources, Cole goes underground in Shintaro in search of answers. Queen Vania, who hasn't seen him since before the Merge, follows him.

Sort of a sequel to Where Are You?. MAJOR SPOILERS for Dragons Rising Season 2 Part 2! You have been warned.

Vania wasn’t there when Cole arrived, but she heard about it from her staff. It was the Master of Earth’s first visit to Shintaro since the Merge. She hadn’t heard from him, hadn’t seen more than a few news clips… and he was there.

Underground.

He’d ignored her, not even bothering to say hello before descending into the mountain. It was his right to go down there, but being snubbed hurt. He did what he wanted, no matter how it impacted anyone else, because usually it only helped people!

Vania was the Queen of Shintaro. If there was anyone who could do as they liked, it was her.

Two can play at this game, Cole.

So Vania canceled every duty she had for the day. She dressed in her favorite adventuring outfit, freshly plaited her hair into a crown braid, and touched up her makeup. Then she followed him into the darkness and depths, bearing a lantern and striding with confidence.

—

She found him standing in the Heart of the Mountain. 

He was staring up at the statue of Lily, everything illuminated in orange. It almost looked like a trance, the way he stood so still, the way the whole room was built to frame him.

For a moment, she didn’t recognize him at all. 

“...Cole?”

The ninja before her straightened up, then turned to look at her in surprise. His black hair was longer than she remembered, his eyes a little more tired. “Vania?”

Vania frowned, trying to understand what she saw. Cole was wearing something new: white, orange and steel gray. It was a complicated suit, not unlike a set of armor, and entirely different from a ninja gi.

She preferred his usual black, but it was still quite handsome on him. He was always handsome. 

“You… didn’t come say hello. I thought I would come down and find you.”

In case you didn’t come find me before you left.

Because I missed you.

Why didn’t you bother to find me?

“Oh…” Cole looked away, having the decency to be ashamed. “I”m sorry, Vania. Hailmar said you were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“You know you’re never an interruption.” Vania approached him, but it felt like entering a home uninvited. “I just… haven’t seen you in so long. I heard about your surviving the Merge, and you never responded to any of my letters, and… then you disappeared again. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you? No!” Cole stammered, finally coming to her and grasping one of her hands. The contact was welcome, and she had to smile, looking up into his eyes as he seemed to come back to himself. “I’m sorry, Vania, really. I just have a lot on my mind.”

She laughed softly. “When do you not? Every time I hear from you, you tell me about yet another catastrophe.”

“Ha, well, you know how it is being a ninja. Never enough time or people to help with all the things going wrong in the world.” Cole reached up and ruffled his hair, but he didn’t let go of her hand. With ruffled hair, he looked a little bit more like she remembered– boyish, carefree, adventurous. “And this time is unfortunately no different.”

“So I’ve heard.” She mustered her best attitude for him, pushing away her frustrations. “Why are you down here? And… what’s going on with the new outfit?”

“Oh, this?” Cole looked down, letting go of her hand so he could mess with it. He tugged at the material, as if to change the fit, but eventually gave up with a sigh. “It’s a long story. Maybe this isn’t the place for it… or maybe it is. I don’t know.”

“That… means nothing. You know that, right?”

“I know, I know.” Cole laughed, then stomped his right foot. The earth rumbled in response, producing a bench made of rock that faced the statue of Lily. It was a detailed structure, with indentations that almost looked hand-carved, despite Vania seeing it grow before her very eyes. 

Cole led her to sit on it next to her. It was wide enough for two with just a little space between them. Nothing more than a hand’s width.

It was more distance from him than Vania wanted, even now, and she felt brave. She shifted to the side, so that they were touching at the hip. Cole looked surprised, but when she smiled, he rested his arm on the back of the bench behind her.

Why wait so long, Cole? Didn’t you know I was waiting for you? 

After a moment’s pause, in which Cole did nothing, Vania knew she was being too hopeful. She looked down at her hands. “So. What’s kept you away? I heard there was some conflict with Imperium.”

“Yeah, although that’s kind of old news now. Do you want me to start at the beginning?”

Vania inspected her hands. “...Why don’t you summarize, and then tell me about what happened most recently?”

“I can do that.”

Vania leaned back against Cole’s arm, part of her attention fixated on just how strong she knew he was, and Cole didn’t seem to mind. When she finally looked back at him, attentive to his story, she saw the glint in his eye.

Excitement, adventure, and danger. All the things she loved in his stories! She couldn’t keep back a smile. “Come on, tell me!”

“I was just trying to figure out where to start!” Cole laughed, and with it, Vania’s spirits lifted. “Okay. It all began at the Merge.”

—

Vania accepted Cole’s cell phone, considering the photo it showed her. “So this one is where I start?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the Land of Lost Things.” She swiped through it, seeing the mountains of trash and miscellaneous objects, until pausing at a statue. “That’s… one of Geo’s statues?”

“Yeah! The guy’s a whiz at them.” Cole swiped through a few for her, past other statues, until he stopped. “That’s him, and Bonzle too.”

Vania peered at the screen. He looked just as Cole had described him: a purple Munce who was almost obsessed with color and found object art, grinning and showing off his sharp teeth. Bonzle, the spell-turned-skeleton, was looking at the camera with a slightly bored smile. “They look nice! You should bring them to Shintaro sometime.”

“I dunno… Geo’s been burned before. He got stuck there because nobody missed him, since he was off-color.”

“No, you should bring him.” Vania gave Cole a smile, searching his orange-flecked eyes. “We’ve been making real progress since you left! There are some Geckles and Munce who are practically family now. Geo deserves to be around that, to have a part in it.”

Cole laughed, and she suppressed a happy shiver as he toyed with one of her loose strands of hair. “Sure, Vania. I’ll tell him next time we run into each other.”

“Good. I’d love to meet any of your friends.”

“And I’d love for them all to meet you.”

The way he said it made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach.

You talk to me like that, but you don’t make a move. Stop playing with my heart like this!

Vania felt her cheeks heating up, so she looked back down at the phone. She swiped through a few pictures of two little boys playing– they had to be Fritz and Spitz. “You said you also had some pictures of the City of Temples, right?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, I got distracted.” Cole took the phone back and swiped through it, past pictures of the Ninja and their students, past sweeping landscapes and blue pies. He stopped at a cityscape, clad in gold and ringed by mountains. “It really reminded me of Shintaro.”

“Oh, wow! It’s so similar!” Vania looked with delight as he moved through them. “The stonework is just incredible.”

“I know! I wish I’d gotten the chance to explore more.” Cole stopped at a picture of the arena. “Here’s where we fought. I wish I could say I did well, but… hey. Sora won, and we’re all really proud of her!”

“Of course.” Vania rested her head against his shoulder. “Did you get very far?”

“Uh… no, actually. I kind of got curb stomped.”

She laughed. “You? Curb stomped? It must have been a mighty opponent.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was a Serpentine kid?”

“Maybe.” She giggled. “At least you got to watch the rest of those fights. They must have been really impressive.”

“Oh yeah! Especially Lloyd’s fights. He did a great job!” Cole laughed. “And then… well, I missed a few. And that’s actually why I’m here.”

She looked up at him, curious by how his voice had shifted from lighthearted reminiscence into something somber. His expression was as serious as she’d ever seen him. He was looking at the statue again… studying it.

She prompted, “Cole?”

He frowned. “I don’t know, Vania. It was just… weird.”

“What was weird? I don’t understand.”

Cole sighed, and she watched as he seemed to almost physically shrink. She’d long outgrown her childish fantasies about him and his mountainous strength, but moments like these are even more of a reminder that Cole wasn’t just some incredible, legendary figure.

He was just a man.

I like him better this way.

“When I was in the City of Temples, I found a mech. It was attuned to my element. After I’d lost my element to the tournament, I needed a vehicle, and I went back to it.” He drew away, hugging himself with both arms. “It was my mother’s, and there was a mech suit in it that fit me. This suit.”

Vania blinked in surprise. “Is that why you’re wearing this?”

“Ha, yeah. I know, it’s not my usual style.”

“It’s not bad,” she assured, inspecting it more closely. The similarities to armor made sense now, the steel and segmentation. The color scheme also made sense, considering what records of Lily they still had in Shintaro. She’d always loved the color white. “How come there was a suit that fit you?”

“I don’t know.” Cole sighed, his vice-like grip on himself loosening. “It was the perfect size. Maybe it wasn’t my mom’s, maybe it was my grandfather’s. Or maybe my great-grandparent’s? Or even older? I have no idea, and there wasn’t anything inside it to say whose it was originally.” He shook his head. “That’s the thing. It was charged with Earth energy, and I was able to harness it even though my element had been taken by the dragon ivory. I don’t know why!”

Vania’s heart softened. She reached out and laid her hands on Cole’s, watching as he looked over. His eyes expressed pain.

No wonder why he didn’t come find me. He needed answers.

She reached up and touched his face, brushing aside a strand of hair, and said, “I can only imagine how confusing that is.”

Cole smiled, so she continued. “Who knows why it was there? Maybe they somehow knew you would need it.”

“Even if it was generations ago? I find that hard to believe,” he confessed with a laugh. “The element of Earth has never come with visions of the future, just… back aches and dirt under our fingernails.”

“Do you need knowledge of the future to know your heirs might need something?” Vania posed her challenge as more of a question, but they both knew she was pushing him. “Cole, I know my heirs will need things. Laws, instructions, records of what I did and why. Your ancestors probably did similar things. You will probably do similar things. The mech was obviously left for you.”

He glanced away. “Maybe…”

“No, there’s no ‘maybe’ about it. I know it’s true.”

Another laugh burst from him, unbidden. “Okay. Sure. You’re right. But that’s not the only thing bothering me.”

Before she could ask, Cole got up from the bench and began to pace. “Here’s what I don’t get. I found a mech that’s just right for the job. Then I had a dream that showed exactly where I would need to go, and the mech got me there. Then, once I actually arrived, the ghost of Master Wu showed up and spoke to me!” 

He was all but tearing his hair out when he looked at her again. “Vania, I don’t understand! He said he caused the Merge. Wu would never do that intentionally. I know he would never want that! I practically raised him– I know it’s backwards, but it’s true, and I know that’s not like him!” 

He stood still, breathing heavily from his rant. 

Vania watched him. Pacing and barely rational. This was the man she had missed for so long, the one she’d longed for all these long months they’d been apart.

She felt the impulse to get up and go to him, so she followed it. She hugged him, burying herself in his arms and his armor. Cole held her, tense yet relaxing slowly at her touch.

Vania took a deep breath, smelling earth and tea and machine oil. “I don’t know either, but we can find out together. You don’t have to figure it out alone, Cole.”

He wilted. “I know. I’ve got my team. But–”

“No. Not just them.” Vania looked up at him, holding his gaze, daring him to look away from her. “You have me.”

“But you’re all the way in Shintaro,” he protested.

“So send me a letter! Call me! We have phones, you know.” She pulled him down to rest his head against hers, daring him to pull away. “Cole Brookstone, if you ask me to come to you, I will come. It doesn’t matter when or where or how. You are not alone.”

He held still, and for a moment, she felt like she’d pushed too far. Had she done something she couldn’t undo? Had she thrown herself at him, more than she had the day they’d met, and he’d disliked it? Had time dampened their connection, their friendship, until every spark of more had been stamped out?

Cole sighed, closing his eyes. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll stay in touch better, Vania. I’ll tell you when I figure out any more of this, or find any more clues.”

Vania closed her eyes to match him. She could feel her fears slowly washing away and being replaced by peace.

“Don’t leave for so long next time, please?”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“That includes if you get… stuck somewhere, or are about to have a big battle, or whatever else is waiting for you. I worry about you when you’re gone.”

“I’m sorry.” She opened her eyes to see him pulling back, and for the first time in their conversation, he looked truly apologetic. “Really, I am.”

“I know.” She smiled again, reaching up to caress his face. Even now, delight coursed through her when he leaned into her touch. “I’m not holding anything against you, Cole. You should know that… I never will.”

“Even if I disappear again?”

Vania laughed. 

This man. This sweet, stupid man. 

“I will search all the Merged Realms if I have to, but you are not disappearing on me again. Ever.”

Finally, the smile on Cole’s face seemed to last. He reached up and toyed with her hair, his hands exceedingly gentle. “As you wish, your Highness.”

His shoulders were not so tense now, his voice softened by affection, and Vania knew that he had gotten what he came for.

The Heart of the Mountain slowly dimmed, coming back to its dormant state, until the darkness was close at hand and broken only by her lantern’s weak glow. The lantern light played across the walls, across Cole’s face, across both of their hearts.

Please… stay with me this time.

She knew he wouldn’t, and yet prayed for it anyway.

[frvnkcastles]

I WILL TRY TO HOLD YOU ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank knows PTSD all too well, so when you struggle with nightmares and insomnia, he’s there to carry you through the hopelessness.

Warnings: PTSD, implied suicide ideation, nightmares

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: This is yet another very self-indulgent piece, I have C-PTSD and it really sucks but imagining Frank being there for me through it has helped majorly. I have some fics I’ve already posted on AO3 and will share here, but then I’m up to taking requests!

He almost walked past. He almost decided that it wasn’t his responsibility — he didn’t need to play hero, because in reality, he wasn’t one. He could just keep walking, go home and… then what? Lie awake, thinking about you sitting alone in that diner at 3 AM, a half-empty cup of tea in front of you while you stared blankly at the quiet surroundings, guilt in his heart?

You really weren’t his responsibility. He only knew you because of Red and Karen and the third one — whatever his name was — and because your best friend was Matt’s girlfriend and inevitably you had crossed paths with the murderer your friend’s lover was trying to defend in court. That whole situation had been years ago, and ever since then, he had seen you occasionally; your best friend’s birthday party, coincidentally the same bar, one time you even stitched up his back and he had returned the kindness by getting rid of the guy who had been showing up at the school you worked to harass you. It had been small interactions, not enough to make you friends but enough for Frank to sigh in defeat and retrace his steps to the door of the 24/7 diner.

Considering it was late — or early? — it was dead silent and deserted in the diner, and so, the ring of the small bell got the attention of the single waitress as well as you. You didn’t turn around, though, but Frank didn’t miss the obvious flinch in your figure as you snapped out of your thoughts and rubbed your hand across your face tiredly.

His boots stomped against the floortiles as he made his way to you, and trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, he sank onto the seat across from yours. You seemed alarmed at first, but at the sight of his familiar, albeit rough features, your eyes softened and the look crossing your face was almost relieved. He couldn’t deny his heart flipped at that.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he rasped, tilting his head at you, ”kinda late, ain’t it?” You knew that was his way of giving you a chance to talk about what was troubling you, but you politely rejected with a soft smile.

”Can’t sleep”, you stated simply before inhaling and rubbing your eyes and then nodding at the peek of his vest underneath his heavy jacket. ”Busy night?”

He got the hint — you wanted to change the subject.

Licking his lips, he nodded back at you before shifting his jacket over the Kevlar that no one else but you was allowed to see right now. ”Could say that”, he chuckled, but when he saw your tired eyes scanning his body, he gave you a look, ”’m fine, though.” At that, you looked back at his face, stifling a nervous smile.

”Sorry”, you whispered, ”force of habit.”

He laughed quietly at that, signalling for the waitress to head over, which made your stomach churn — he was staying, then. ”Can’t help but feel a lil’ guilty that a school teacher’s made a habit of stitching up my sorry ass”, he noted half-jokingly once he had politely asked for a cup of black coffee, and you returned the chuckle. That made him feel like he had achieved something; if he couldn’t make all your troubles go away, at least he had made you laugh. And that smile? Worth a million bucks, if you asked him.

”It’s my pleasure, really. Seriously, if you’re ever in need of a fixing-up at some ungodly hour…”, you clicked your tongue and gestured at yourself, ”I’m your person.” And Frank… he quite liked the sound of that.

”Sorry ya can’t sleep”, he offered quietly, a sigh slipping from his mouth. ”Not sayin’ we in the same situation, but I do know it can be hell. You don’t deserve that, sweetheart”, he continued, and with a quiet smile, you nodded.

”I appreciate that”, you whispered before smiling at the waitress who brought Frank his coffee. ”At least I got this diner.”

Frank took those words seriously.

He quickly made a habit of walking past the place whenever he was out and about, and sometimes, he’d find you there and other times your booth was empty. On those nights he hoped it was because you had managed to sleep, but after catching up the next time, he’d soon find out you were just trying to save some money or feeling too attached to your mattress to go every night.

He never asked too many questions, though. He gave you the opportunity to share, but he didn’t dig too deep. He respected your boundaries.

Then, on one January night, he willingly crossed that boundary just to make sure you weren’t in any immediate danger.

He couldn’t believe how giddy he felt strolling up to your table, a crooked smirk dancing on his lips until he sat down and saw the bruised eye on you, accompanied by a haphazardly applied band-aid on the bleeding corner of your eyebrow.

”What the fuck happened?” his breath hitched, ”someone do this to you?” He was more than ready to pull his guns out, but the defeated sigh and shake of your head calmed him at least a bit.

”It’s stupid… it’s so stupid—I—I woke up from a nightmare and I—I, uh, flinched so hard that I hit my face into my nightstand”, you explained quietly, fighting back tears that you made sure to wipe from your eyes before chuckling wryly. ”Go ahead, laugh”, you encouraged, waiting for the amusement to spread out on Frank’s face, but it never did.

”Hey, sweetheart… Shit, I’d never. You need me to look at that?” he offered, concern visible in his eyes, although he was less inclined to turn to violence, now.

You waved your hand at him to dismiss the idea. ”It’s okay, I’ll… I’ll manage”, you reassured before sniffling and taking a sip of your tea — full of sugar and honey, just how you liked it.

”Aight, well, ya wanna talk about the nightmare, hm?” Frank tilted his head at you, attentive and gentle as he narrowed his eyes and inspected the sadness written all over you. The sheer, bone-deep exhaustion.

You shook your head. ”It’s just…”, you took in a deep breath before your smile turned upside down and you inevitably started to cry. ”That’s PTSD for you, I guess.”

Those words, heavy as they were, set something right in Frank’s chest. He would have never insisted he knew exactly what you were going through, and he would have never wanted you to tell him the same. But at the end of the day, it was the same disorder haunting your minds and bodies, the same disorder making your life Hell whether you were awake or asleep.

”I just really hate that I can’t escape my problems by going to sleep. If anything, sleeping makes me feel less safe than being awake. And I hate that nighttime has to be a trigger for me, ’cause guess what, it comes around every single day. There’s no escape and I—”, you rambled on before sighing in defeat and letting your head fall between your arms. ”I am so tired of fighting. I just want to—”

”Give up?” Frank interrupted with his raspy voice, and you immediately looked up. Instead of judgment, his face was full of understanding, and you found the courage to nod in agreement. ”Look, I, uh, I get it. PTSD… ’s no easy feat. You’re a fuckin’ badass for takin’ on it every day. I mean it. I know what it’s like to have nothin’ to wake up for. Wonderin’ if it’d be better to just check out and end the pain yourself. But the fact that you still haven’t, that makes you stronger than any disorder”, he went on. Somehow, hearing those words come from him… it meant something. More than coming from a shrink or a doctor. He understood you.

That realization was what broke you. You had felt so alone for so long, navigating this tragic mess of gray days blending into each other, and here he was — hardly an angel, hardly a bright light, but he still radiated hope and courage to you. You burst into tears, first a loud sob but once the embarrassment kicked at your heart, you stifled the cries with your hand clasped against your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut.

Frank didn’t hesitate. He got up from his seat and scooched in next to you, muttering a low hey, hey, hey as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let your head fall against his chest. He hushed you gently, fingertips instinctively caressing your hair while letting you cry it out. He fought the urge to tear up himself, wondering what exactly he had stopped you from doing by showing up, and thanking God — if there was any — for letting him intervene.

”Hey, you listen to me, sweetheart. Whenever ya up, can’t sleep, you call me. I’m there. Aight? Don’t want you all alone thinkin’ these things”, he spoke quietly, his voice like gravel as his lips brushed against your ear. ”Promise me, huh? You ain’t gonna do anythin’ rash?” he insisted, and wiping your eyes, you gave him a nod.

”I promise.”

It took you three days to get the courage to dial in the phone number he had scribbled on a napkin for you. You hadn’t been sleeping the entire week, but it was far too easy for you to overthink and convince yourself that Frank had just been a decent person who had seen someone in a crisis. Would it really be okay to call him up at 3 AM, beg for him to spend the night with you so you could have a momentary feeling of safety and peace?

Fuck it, you decided eventually. You had tried literally everything else, from breathing exercises to actual exercise, from drinking to quitting everything. Insomnia was simply your worst enemy and if there was anyone you trusted to defend you, it was Frank.

”Everythin’ OK?” The sound of his curt voice across the speaker made your muscles tense with anxiety — but you tried to remind yourself, that’s what he always sounded like. He wasn’t mad at you.

No, he was concerned.

”You said I could call”, you blurted out, twisting your pillow between your arms while sitting on your bed. ”I—I can’t sleep. Can you stop by?” you whispered, almost ashamed of how fragile you sounded, pleading for him.

The momentary silence that followed made you sick to your stomach. Eventually, he spoke up. ”I’ll be there in 20. Hang in there for me, sweetheart.” With that, the call ended, and you dropped your phone on the mattress to bury your face in your hands and groan.

God, this would have been so much easier if your heart could rest easy near him, or even at the mention of him. You weren’t supposed to go catching feelings for him, but how could you not? He was everything, and above all, right now he was the only person who even remotely understood what you were going through and what you needed.

Truthfully, Frank had begun to feel the same way. Your pasts couldn’t be compared, they weren’t the same and your pains weren’t equal, but for the first time in forever, he felt… seen. Heard. He felt like he had found someone who could handle him the way he was, someone who he wanted to help deal, in return. He didn’t feel so out of place by your side, if anything, he felt at peace. Like his head could quiet down and his soul began to heal.

The knock on your door came sooner than you had expected, and you rushed with your fuzzy socks sliding across the floorboards. You felt so small when you opened the door and his towering frame swallowed you whole, bringing a new warmth into your tiny apartment as he stepped in.

”Hey, you good?” he inspected you head to toe, his hands in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

No fuckin’ kiddin’. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but being allowed in your space felt like an honor. Intimate, even. It required a specific amount of trust, and even though it wasn’t the first time he had paid a visit, it was the first time under these conditions. There was no bleeding wound to stitch, just the monsters in your bed.

”You can take your jacket off”, you gestured at him, ”unless, uh, you need to get going soon. I really don’t want to—”

”Respectfully, sweetheart, I’mma lose it if you tell me you’re a burden. I’m here, ’cause I wanna be. Got that?” he spoke, his voice stern but the look in his eyes soft, just like the slight curve on his lips. It made you chuckle and relax a little, your shoulders rolling as you nodded and thanked him.

”I’m really tired”, you laughed weakly, rubbing your eye for emphasis. ”I—I don’t know how this works”, you stuttered, at which Frank chuckled quietly.

”There ain’t a rulebook. We can stay up and talk shit if you’d prefer. But if you wanna sleep…”, he nodded towards the bedroom, and with a shaky exhale, you repeated his nod.

”I’m scared of the nightmares”, you admitted. You paused, then, not sure where Frank was going to draw the line, but it seemed he was all in — so you took the plunge. ”Can I ask you to lay with me?” you queried, and without a second’s hesitance, he nodded and shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders. He didn’t say anything, just proceeded to hang it up and kick off his boots, and supposing that was your cue, you shuffled to the bedroom.

It was late, and you had already been trying to sleep, so you were all dressed in your PJs and the covers were undone, ready for you to slip in. The mattress had gone cold in your absence, but that wasn’t the only reason why you shivered when you got under the covers and watched Frank stride into the room. He made sure to flick off all lights in his path, before sitting on the edge of the bed and fluffing the pillow on what seemed to be his side, now.

He sat up against the headboard, his big figure instantly making you feel safe. You took a beat to look at how the moonlight illuminated his jawline, the bruises around his face seeming almost beautiful in their different shades and sizes. When he turned to you and you were caught staring, you ducked your gaze, and Frank snorted at the lack of covertness.

”C’mere”, he muttered, widening an arm for you. You took a second to realize what he was offering, but you quickly scooted into his side, letting him envelope you in a comforting embrace. You let the softness of his sweater lull you towards sleep, concentrating on the even rise and fall of his chest with your fingertips draped over his stomach.

”’M right here, okay? Anythin’ happens, I gotchu. Any nightmares, we’ll breathe through ’em together”, he promised quietly, his voice reverbrating against the top of your head as he exhaled long and slow. ”I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.”

And fuck, you believed every word. You almost didn’t even recognize the feeling in your heart, but it was safety, making its return after all these months. You felt safe with him, knowing that even if nightmares would still haunt you, he’d be right there to guide you through it. That was all you needed. He was all you needed.

Holding you tight, Frank closed his own eyes and breathed. It was no easy thought to accept, but he knew it was the same for himself — you were all he needed.

[buckyalpine]

Choices 2

18 + minors dni

Bucky x reader, Steve x reader 

You catch Bucky with his face between some woman’s legs; time to turn to your husbands best friend. 

Here is part 2 for Choices  a lot of you wanted a second part with Steve so here you go hehe. 

Warnings: Smut, ANGST (cheating), fluff!!

Word count: 1.9k

Steve groaned, tucking you in the sheets before getting out of bed and pulling some sweats on.

“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE THERE”

He rolled his eyes, sauntering over to the door, opening it to a raging Bucky, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, the knuckles of his right hand bloodied and bruised. Someone’s upset.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING”

Steve smirked, his beard glistening, licking your arousal that was still on his lips from mere seconds ago. He made a show of sucking your taste off his fingers, humming in satisfaction.  

“Sorry, just woke u-

“Where the fuck is she?!”

Bucky shoved Steve aside, stomping up the stairs making his way to the bedroom, only to be grabbed back and pushed against the wall.

“Don’t do this, where the fuck is my wife” Bucky’s voice was low, chest rumbling as his fists clenched at his sides, trying to collect himself.

“You remember you have a wife?” Steve cocked an eyebrow, dodging Bucky’s fist, before slamming him against the wall.

“How the FUCK COULD YOU SLEEP WITH HER?!” Bucky spat, unable to scrub the images of you moaning for his best friend, your legs wrapped tightly around him, crying out in pleasure, begging for more. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked slobbering over Steve’s cock, looking up at the camera with doe eyes, moaning when he came in your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show you swallowed it all like a good girl. You made a show of letting Steve rail you from behind, screaming his name while he tugged your hair and pushed you down, spanking your ass raw.

“HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER!?” Steve’s grip tightened, feeling rage, disappointment, but also a tinge of arrogance; now he had you and he wasn’t going to let you go.

Bucky swallowed thickly, no longer resisting, letting his arms drop to his sides. He stared at the floor, guilt and sadness washing over him.

“How could you cheat on her” Steve’s voice was soft now, genuinely upset over his friends actions. He let Bucky go, both men standing in the hallway, the air thick with tension.

“It was a mistake”

“You brought someone else into your home, into your bed, you picked someone else over y/n, what else did you expect her to do”

Bucky felt his heart race, he couldn’t lose you like this, he made impulsive choices but you were the one who never gave up on him. He started towards the bedroom door again before Steve grabbed his hand stopping him.

“I want to see her” His eyes were pleading but Steve shook his head.

“She saw you, you know. That’s why she came here” Bucky looked up at Steve in shock, his eyes wide, he felt like he was going to throw up. Steve scoffed looking at Bucky’s pained expression.

“Just get out”

“Steve just let me see her-

“Don’t”

Bucky’s emotions were running a thousand miles a minute, jealously, anger, guilt, sadness. He drove straight to her house, needing to fuck his pain away, spiralling as he sped down the streets. He went up to her apartment, knocking at the door, hearing another voice behind the door before she opened it.

“Bucky? I- what are you doing here, I- it’s not a good time” She kept the door a crack open, without letting him in, her eyes shifting nervously.

“Baby, everything okay?” A man’s voice called her from behind. She nodded, mumbling something to him before stepping into the hallway.

“What the fuck?!”

“SHH, my husband is inside!”

“You said you weren’t together any more”

“I-it’s nothing”

“How the fuck could you” Bucky felt his chest tighten, he shouldn’t have even come here, he shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place, it was you in his heart, he loved you.

She scoffed. “You cheated on your wife with me and I’m supposed to hold out for you and expect you to be loyal to me too?”

Bucky left without saying another word, anger surging through his body, rage flowing in his veins. How the fuck could he stray from you, he pushed you away every time you tried to take care of him. He took advantage of your kindness, took advantage of how much you trusted him. He couldn’t lose you but you were in his best friend’s arms and Steve would never do what he did.

The house was utterly destroyed. Anything that came into his hand was shattered against the wall as Bucky took all his anger out in the house. Why the fuck did he act so impulsively, how could he let you see that, why the fuck did he let someone else into his life when you were his whole heart.

He stepped into the bedroom, not wanting to touch a single thing that would take away from your presence; he wanted things to be exactly how you left them. He looked at the wedding picture on the table, breaking down into sobs; you were smiling up at him, your eyes bright, looking at him with so much affection. He had his arm around you waist, he promised to love and protect you for as long as he lived. He called you his angel, he told you he’d never hurt you and here he was.

Bucky nearly threw up looking at the bed. The sheets were still tangled from that afternoon, pillows thrown aside. He washed them repeatedly, his stomach churning when he could still smell her on them.

Bucky thought he was losing his mind, the coldness of the bed. The silence of the house. He could no longer smell your soft scent on the sheets, nightmares plagued his mind. His chest ached thinking about how broken you would have felt seeing him, how meaningless the entire affair was to him and it took away the one thing in his life that gave him a reason to live.

A week later

“Just sign them James”

“Baby please don’t do this”

You sighed in frustration having spent hours arguing with Bucky as he refused to sign the divorce papers.

“You made your choice, I’m making mine”

“It was a mistake y/n, I- I can’t fucking exist without you-

“You should have thought about that before you fucked someone else in our bed James”

“Don’t call me that!” Bucky pleaded with you, hating the way his name sounded, you never called him James.

You shook your head, getting up and leaving him with the papers as he cried after you, begging for you to stay.

“Goodbye Bucky”

6 months later

You had packed your things, staying with Sarah for the time being until you found your own place. Bucky was drinking himself into oblivion, unable to even get drunk from the dark liquid. He hadn’t slept in the bedroom since, staying on the couch instead.

Steve let himself in the house; not like Bucky bothered to lock it any more.

“You have to stop”

Bucky scoffed bitterly, taking another swing from his glass, finishing another bottle of whisky.

“Easy for you to say”

Bucky felt a pang of anger in his chest, he had no right to be mad at you or Steve but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find peace, keeping a sweater you left behind with him when he tried to sleep, crying into it every night.

“Don’t. She loved you”

Steve shook his head, a part of him feeling bad for Bucky. He tried so hard to win you back, but the damage was done. The image was burnt in your mind, nothing would ever take that away. You tried to give him one chance but the second he touched you, your mind flashed to the way he touched her. You couldn’t. It was over.

“How is she”

“Doing better. Not great, but better”

3 Years later

You fixed you veil, holding onto your bouquet of flowers as you made your way down the aisle. He stood there, waiting for you, soft blue eyes brimming with tears as he watched you, his blonde hair combed back, beard trimmed.

“You look amazing y/n” The best man gave you a teasing wink, smiling as you took your place in front of your soon to be husband.  

“Thanks Sam” You grinned,  feeling your face heat up as Steve lifted your veil, a stray tear slipping out as he look your hands in his, his voice cracking, hardly above a whisper.

“I love you”

***

“You may kiss the bride”

You giggled as Steve gently cupped your face, pulling you into the sweetest loving kiss, everyone in the crowd clapping and cheering, your heart fluttering with happiness. You were so in love with him; you thought you knew what love and happiness was before but nothing compared to this. This moment; so pure, so full of love.

***

Steve held you close to him, his hands on your waist as you both swayed to your first dance as husband and wife. His hand tipped your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips; he was so utterly and deeply in love with you.

“You look gorgeous tonight Mrs. Rogers”

You giggled shyly, taking his hand in yours as the song came to an end. You made your way through the crowd, greeting guests,

“Congratulations, I’m happy for you” Bucky smiled softly looking at you in Steve’s arms. He wanted to mean what he said but his heart was still in pain. He had you and he let you go. He wanted to feel happy for you, happy for Steve but it was too much. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, blinking back tears as you looked up at Steve, in pure happiness.

“Thank you Buck” Steve gave him a quick hug, keeping you by his side as you both continued to greet guests.

“They’re so sweet” Sarah giggled watching you both sneak quick kisses, Steve whispering something in your ear making you gasp before playfully slapping his chest. Bucky felt his chest tighten, getting up and leaving the room, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

He closed his eyes. He remembered the way you looked at him when you walked down the aisle. The way you looked so angelic in your dress. The way you danced together for the first time, your arms draped around his shoulders, his hands holding you close. The pure love he felt for you, he told himself he’d never let you cry. He remembered thinking he didn’t deserve someone and beautiful and sweet as you and you held him every single night he doubted himself. All the times he stopped trying because you had enough love for the both of them. He remembered the day he met her.  He hesitated but gave into his desires, the side of him that need to feel wanted by others, thinking you were with him because you loved him but he needed more. To be desired. And now here he was. He’d never be able to love again; it’d never be the same. He had the one person that would love him unconditionally and he threw it all away.

“You gotta let her go” Sam broke Bucky out of his spiral, patting his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “C’mon, I’ll take you home”

Bucky sighed, as he watched longingly. The shy smiles, gentle touches, whispering sweet nothings to each other, he’d never get you back. You’d found your forever, your happy ending.

-

Part 1: Choices 

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions​ 

[muffindaddystyles]

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

“No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”

[theweasleysredhair]

An Exhibition of Muggle Duelling [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 2042

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Angry George is hot. He’s even hotter when he’s fighting. Based on that scene - you know the one - in Order of the Phoenix.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @gloryekaterina @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley @andineversawyoucoming @nkjktk | message or send an ask to be removed! unfortunately, my taglist is closed until further notice due to hitting the max. amount allowed on one post!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: shoutout to kaylah ( @pit-and-the-pen ) for finding the pages that the fight scene takes place and sending them to me - literal angel, thank you sm my love!! ❤️ also the ending isn’t great, i had a breakdown trying to figure out what to write, but hope you guys like it anyway 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Gryffindor had won.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion, despite the song Malfoy had gotten many of the Slytherin students to sing, but as you ran down the steps from the stand and onto the pitch, followed closely by Hermione, you realised something was wrong, Malfoy’s laughter being the most prominent sound.

You approached the Gryffindor team, wanting to make sure Harry was okay after the fall he took at the end of the game, though seeing Katie and Alicia hugging him assured you he would be fine.

“But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see. We couldn’t fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know-“ you heard Malfoy jeer.

“You’d know all about being a useless loser, wouldn’t you Malfoy?” You spoke out, arriving by George’s side as his arm automatically moved to slide around your waist, his head turning in Malfoy’s direction, jaw clenching as he realised what he was talking about.

“Leave it,” Angelina looked towards you and the twins, particularly Fred who had taken a step in Malfoy’s direction, “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little-“

Malfoy smirked in yours and Harry’s direction, a nasty look on his face as he sneered, “But you like the Weasleys, don’t you Potter? And you, L/n.”

He spat out your surname with a grimace. You felt George trying to move and gripped his wrist, running your thumb softly over his skin. He swallowed, hands curling into fists as he glared at the blonde boy.

“Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you?” Malfoy continued, laughing with his usual sidekicks, enjoying the way he was winding you all up, “Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by muggles even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay-“

George suddenly lunged forward out of your reach, his name leaving your lips just as Harry caught his arm, pulling him back and holding onto him, trying to prevent him from pouncing on the blonde.

Angelina and Alicia were holding Fred back, helped by Katie who had a grip on his shirt and one of his shoulders, though he was still struggling to get away from them, pulling them forward as they dragged him back.

Malfoy laughed again, the sound piercing your ears and making you scowl, “Or perhaps you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it. And don’t get me started on you, L/n. The fact you’d even allow a Weasley to touch you-“

“You git-“ you yelled, moving to grab your wand. But before you could even throw a hex at him, Hermione grabbed your waist, keeping you back as you realised Harry had let go of George, and they were both now on top of the blonde boy, having shoved him down into the mud, throwing punch after punch. You stopped struggling as much as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“Harry! Harry!! George!! No!”

The Gryffindor chasers yelled out their names, but couldn’t do much more as they were still holding Fred back, who was still trying to get to Malfoy.

You held your wand loosely but couldn’t bring yourself to use it, watching as your boyfriend’s fist collided with Malfoy’s nose, his muscles straining and abs prominent as his Quidditch shirt rode up, showing off his toned back as he threw more punches, easily blocking Malfoy’s weak attempts at fighting back. He was swearing at the Slytherin boy, angry growls escaping his lips and you felt your mouth drop a little.

Swallowing, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the scene, George’s ginger locks sticking to his forehead with sweat, both from the previous game and from fighting, a snarl on his face as he continued his attack.

You’d never seen him like this, so aggressive, so in control of his actual movements yet not his emotions as he allowed his anger to fuel him, his eyebrows furrowed, clenched fists accentuating the veins in his lower arms as he landed punch after punch, before suddenly Madam Hooch was yelling out, and he was hit by a spell, one that paused his actions - or rather, slowed them down.

Harry jumped to his feet, as the Quidditch coach yelled out, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Malfoy lay on the floor, curled in a ball however you could see his nose was bloody. Fred was still struggling to escape the grasp of the chasers. And George, his lip was swollen and he was breathing heavily, but otherwise he seemed okay, for which you were thankful.

He pulled his shirt back into place angrily, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. His hands were still pulled into fists, his biceps clenching under the jersey, his jaw tensing, before he and Harry headed up to the castle without another word, practically marching away angrily towards McGonagall’s office, under Madam Hooch’s orders.

Fred pulled himself away from the chasers, though he was careful not to hurt them, and they hesitantly released their grips, ready to pull him back again if he attempted to finish what his twin and Harry had started. He scowled as he turned towards the changing rooms, grabbing his broom and heading off.

Hermione let go of your waist and you stomped after Fred, who was grumbling under his breath, and though he nodded at you in reassurance he was okay, you knew the twins and anger didn’t usually end too well.

***

No one seemed to want to celebrate Gryffindor’s win after the match. In fact, you were sat in the common room completely alone, waiting for your boyfriend (and Harry) to come back from being reprimanded by McGonagall. Fred had sullenly stomped to his room a while ago without a word, simply kicking the wall beside the stairs in anger as he passed by it.

Even Angelina - who you’d expected to have been happy by her first win as a new Captain - had retired to her own dorm room with a frown, along with Alicia and Katie.

The common room felt odd, being so quiet, but you appreciated the calm. That was, until the portrait door slammed open and two familiar - angry - faces stormed in.

You didn’t have chance to acknowledge Harry before George had pulled you up off the couch and, despite his split lip, he brought you into a rough kiss, one that made your toes curl and caused your greeting to become muffled, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

His tongue ran across your bottom lip, before pushing into your mouth, desperately kissing you as though it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

You weren’t aware he’d started moving you until your back hit the stone wall beside the fireplace, his hand moving to grab your bum, travelling to the back of your thigh to lift it round his waist, his hips pressing against yours.

“Did you hear what he was fucking saying?” He mumbled against your lips, parting briefly to take a breath before kissing you again, “‘Bout my parents, and Harry’s Mum. And you- Merlin he’s lucky he didn’t say much more about you, he’d have had more than a broken nose, I’ll tell you that much.”

Your breathing was heavy, fanning across his lips as you replied, “Trust me, if he’d said much more, I’d have been right there with you breaking more than just his nose.”

He hummed, his mouth hovering over yours as his eyes grazed over your face, your leg still resting around his waist, your hands now gripping his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” You asked. Perhaps a redundant question, considering the events of the day, however as George briefly screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, you knew he understand what you meant - there was something else bothering him, and he knew you could tell.

“‘M fine, love,” he gave you a quick nod, before sighing at your pointed eyebrow raise, “Aside from being banned from Quidditch.”

You blinked, not expecting that answer, lips parting in surprise as his hand moved from your hip to your thigh, tracing random shapes on the skin showing, “Wait McGonagall banned you? She wouldn’t do that! She adores your team! They don’t stand a chance of winning without you!”

“Not her, the toad. Gave me, Freddie and Harry a lifelong ban. Can she even do that?” He swore aloud, his head dropping to your shoulder and you ran a hand through his ginger hair.

“Oh Georgie,” you breathed out, your heart almost breaking at the idea of him losing out on something he loved so much, “I’m sorry to say but you know as well as I do... she can pretty much do whatever she wants, sadly. She’s got the Ministry behind her. I’m so sorry.”

Your gaze moved to the back of your hand, where you knew there was light scarring from a previous detention with her, knowing that if she could get away with something like this, then she’d do it.

“‘S not your fault, is it? Should’ve controlled myself and not fought Malfoy. No matter how much the git bloody deserved it,” George curled his hands into fists as memories of the fight danced through his mind, a snarl setting across his features as he buried his face into your shoulder.

“He definitely deserved it. Least you got in a few good punches, eh? And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been Fred. If it makes you feel any better though...” you trailed off, causing George to look up at you in anticipation of your next words, “I kinda maybe definitely thought that it was hot, the way you fought Malfoy. Just a little bit.”

He looked you up and down with a smirk, seemingly calming down at the revelation of this new information, “Me fighting is hot is it?”

“Oh Godric yes. You’re sexy when you’re angry anyway, but seeing you punching Malfoy?” You bit your lip and he let out a low groan, “Baby, that was attractive.”

George grinned cheekily, though a tad too wide causing his lip to split again, making him swear and dab at it with the collar of his shirt, reaching his other hand out to squeeze your thigh, “Well now I know that I might cause fights more often.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as his tongue darted out across the cut, before leaning up to press your lips against his again. He kissed back immediately, almost as if he was waiting for you to do it, then began trailing kisses down your jaw, your eyes fluttering closed, before he pulled away suddenly, making you open them again, ready to protest.

“What is it about me fighting?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curling up, as if he was trying not to smile too smugly.

“Now you’re just begging for compliments,” you shook your head.

“Humour me. Humour me and I’ll go back to kissing you,” he countered.

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly moving to stroke his biceps through the Quidditch jersey he was still wearing, “Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Guess it’s your muscles...”

You pressed your lips together as your gaze caught his, “And how strong you are.”

“Strong?”

You hummed, fingertips dancing up his arms and towards his shoulders, “Oh yeah. You could hold my wrists above my head and I could struggle with everything I have and you’d keep me in place with ease.”

“That a hint?” His voice had dropped a few octaves as he brushed his lips against yours gently, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wall above your head as you shot him a cheeky grin, gazing up at him.

“A challenge.”

His free hand was already moving under the material of your skirt, as he casually glanced over his shoulder towards the staircase to the dorm rooms, before pressing himself against you further, his lips hovering over yours once more,

“Oh yeah? Then challenge accepted, love.”

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[haechanokeh]

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (general): corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark, psychology

you cried your eyes out, face shoved in your pillow and muffling your sobs. you didn't who told you those words, it was mark but he's not the same guy you fell in love with and the guy you said yes with today. your phone was ringing nonstop so you have to turn it off but mark was too eager so he's now in front of your house banging and shouting your name begging you to open the door and talk to him.

what he told you was possible, that they didn't care for you and you have to admit that it stings but his words are not responsible for your vulnerability right now, it was the unknown mark. you didn't like him just because he's kind, it was just one out of the nth god knows the reason why you love him. he made you so special, he was right that he's the only person who cared about you in your class but the unfamiliar mark you saw a couple of hours ago was scary. it gave you goosebumps, you were frightened it's as if anytime he will hurt you.

you heard a hard stomp inside your room and you quickly sat up and surprisingly it was mark inside your room who entered the room through your open window.

"fuck, y/n." he ran into you and pulled you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, this will never happen again." he whispered and caressed your hair. "i will not let lucas and my friends break us, shhh i am truly sorry. you only need me, so don't worry."

your body froze in shock and your heart beating so fast. he's not sorry.

"what..." you whispered in disbelief, you can't understand why he can't understand that he's wrong as well.

"we're okay now right? let's just forget everything, y/n... hmmm?" he looked at your face and looked into your eyes but he saw nothing but unpleasant. he felt rage rushing in his whole system. "what do you want! i already apologize!" he squeezed your jaw.

you were shaking in fear as his loud voice boomed in your room. his nose was flaring, his eyes were dripped with spite, and his chest where heaving. he's so mad at you and you're scared and confused.

that's when you realize, there's something wrong with him.

"m-mark, you're hurting me." you sobbed. mark snapped out of his senses. he quickly removed his hands from you and embraced you.

"I'm sorry." he sincerely said and kissed your cheeks and shove his face against it. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me." he kept on apologizing non-stop. his hands were trembling you could feel it as he was clutching your arms.

"mark? mark?" you panicked. "mark? are you okay?" your fear from him vanished and changed into a concern to him. this is not normal.

you tried to get away from his arms but he's not budging, you stopped wriggling when you heard him whimper.

"don't leave me, can't. i really can't, i will lose myself." he begged like he's close to hopelessness. you gently pushed him to look at his face. your heart was stabbed when you saw how vulnerable he looked.

"mark..." you voice broke, you really don't know what to say because this is your first time to see him like this.

this is why mark never pursues someone or something he likes, he became possessive in fear that it will slip away from him, like his friends' admiration and respects towards him, the trust from his parents, and how they look at him as the perfect son, the people's respect on him because of his kindness and intellect, and his high grades- all of these are his goals and obsession but you're different. he can confidently allow these to get away from him in exchange of not losing you. you become his obsession. mark is aware that he has a problem but doesn't want to admit it and keep on insisting that this is part of his life... when it is not. everything about it is not normal, because when he faces rejection he felt anguish, loss, stress, and anger. there was a point where he tried to consider hurting and taking his life but he was taught that this is a grave sin and again, he felt disappointed that he is thinking of doing a grave sin which added made it worse to his anxiety. 3 years ago, he talked to his psychologist professor and was diagnosed with depression and attachment disorganized anxiety. he only attends one counseling session because he couldn't accept that there's something wrong with him and if people will find out about this he will lose all the respect.

ask him. you were pushing yourself to speak what's wrong? do you have a problem? you want to ask him but you became voiceless.

"mark, i want you to be honest to me okay?" your voice was shaking trying to control it from whimpering and tears rolling on your cheeks. "are you going through... something? do you want to talk about it?"

mark was spacing out while looking into your eyes but inside his head, it was in extreme chaos. he's having a second thoughts on telling that he has anxiety.

"mark, i love you so much but i need to understand you first so i know what to do and to make sure that you're receiving it. can you trust me?" you were convincing him and mark can see it through your eyes.

he gave up.

"i'm a mess." he broke down. mark's voice cracked and tears falling filled with hopelessness. you couldn't bare to see him like this so you pulled him into a passionate but slow kiss which he gladly responds.

you made him sit on your bed and straddle his hips, your hands were on both sides of his face and his hands were on the bed to support his body and your body. both of you where muffling your sobs.

"i was diagnosed depression and disorganized attachment anxiety" he confessed. you have no idea what is disorganized attachment anxiety, but you just understand that he has anxiety and depression, which was shocking.

mark lee, loved by everyone and religious boy have depression? that's when you realize, depression has no favoritism.

"how? you're..."

"when i was a kid, my parents are busy but i felt love every time they praise me and follow their lessons. i needed their praise and validation and i adopted it and became like... that and brought it until i grow up and to school. i never wanted to feel their disappointment and i never wanted to lose the respect of my parents, professors, and classmates but when i met you..." your eyes were locking with him. "you're the only thing i need and for the first time i never cared of losing it i thought i changed but i was wrong, nothing changed. i was just too possessive and obsess of you and when you told me you want to leave me..." his voice broke once again.

"it's going to be the end of me. it's been a long time since i felt rejected and i don't know what to do." he weeps and you felt weak.

mark has been your emotional support with fragile heart, you felt useless. instead of apologizing, you said the 3 words he always and shamelessly tells you.

"i love you." you pecked his lips. "i love you." your kissed it again and repeatedly do it while allowing the tears to fall.

he needs assurance that he is genuinely loved, which he is.

"mark, you are you still going to a psychiatrist?" making sure that he's managing it very well, but he shook his head. he needs help, someone who's more reliable. you hope that the next statement you will tell him will not take it as a bad thing. you rub his cheeks.

"you need to, aren't we pharmacists? aren't we push people to comply and adhere?" you smiled sadly.

"what will they think? my parents will be disappointed and sad at me, they will blame it to themselves, i know them y/n. and the people around me, they will think that i am fragile." you could see how frustrated he was.

"i thought you don't care about them anymore? i thought what matters is me? and what i think is that i love you and will love you more regardless of seeing one." you want to tell him that one day if you will do something wrong he might hurt himself or the people around him but you don't know if it's the right thing to say. this is why he needs to talk to a professional and you also need one because you can talk to them on what is the right thing to do to help mark and support him.

"if i do this you will never leave me?" you felt bad, now mark is now losing trust on you.

"if you do that, i am always right there with you." you kissed his forehead.

"and if i don't?"

"and if you don't..." you rest your forehead against his. "i am always with you."

you stared at each other for a long time sharing tons of emotion and you didn't know when it happened but both of you can't keep your hands to yourself. you're hovering over him touching him everywhere and his hands are all over your back.

you're grinding yourself hard on his pants, both of you panting but your lips never got separated, instead, it gets deeper. you pulled the hem of his pants and boxer. you pushed aside you shorts and sunk down to his length.

"fuck, that was hot." mark coulnd't help but blurt that out. you started to bounce, hands gripping his shoulders. he squeezed your breast underneath your shirt when suddenly the door clicked opened along with a women's gasp.

both of your heads turned towards the door's direction. it was your mom wearing his office uniform, holding a bowl with jaw-dropping in surprise. mark panicked, and so do you. you pulled mark's head and pulled it towards your breast, you want to gatekeep him.

"mom!" you shouted.

"i-i'm sorry I thought you look so down.. ohh..." you actually don't know what she just realized but she's nodding her head like now i get it "you have--"

"mom, get out!" she quickly closed the door.

"just so you know i will be here at 8, but if you want i can come here by 9! you can continue-"

"mom!" she made you feel embarrassed.

"my daughter has a boyfriend! finally!" she squealed as if the pigs finally learned how to fly. your mom thought this day wouldn't come but good lord your mom saw mark's face and at that moment she knew she needs mark's gene in her family tree.

"as much i loved your breast, i love to look at your face more." mark said. you release his head.

"my mom is just like that I'm sorry." you heard your mom honked. mark grinned and you gave him an apologetic look. "are you still in the mood?"

"i'm afraid i'm not anymore." mark chuckled. there's so much going on inside him plus he was slightly concerned what your mom thought of him. your mom caught him making with you but she seemed cool though but it was awkward.

"me too." deep down your blaming your mom.

you went back to class, you can't let mark skip[ another class again. you have to be a good influence. it was awkward but everyone already knows that you're dating, there's no reason to hide it and might just embrace it. mark apologized to the whole class, he didn't tell them his condition but he told them that he's going through something. even though mark still thinks that they are just using him, though at first that's how you perceived them but that really changed, for you it was a genuine friendship, they were so forgiving and i hope one day mark will accept that friendship.

since them, things went good though not perfect. his parents blamed themselves but you told them that that's the reason why mark didn't want to tell it to them, instead of continuing blaming themselves, they will give them all the love and support. mark never missed a session and you never missed going with him also.

and for the first time, you went to their church and the pastor is mark's father. you thought it was going to be like a normal day but...

"mark..." you sighed when he increased the intensity of the vibrator that he slipped while his father preaching. the front seats were occupied while you and mark are the only ones seating at the back.

you're squeezing and rubbing your thighs together, you felt so hot and wet. you badly want to moan, but that will be hard because you felt like once you moan, it will never stop.

"are you calling me love?" mark innocently asked you, he was saying that while putting the vibrator on max. you mouth opened while looking at mark's eyes. mark kept his smile while watching your orgasm face. he's doing unholy inside but worth it. he off the vibrator.

unfortunately all you can hear mark's father but can't understand it. you're still in ecstasy.

"my friends and family, it's not about finding the right person, it is becoming the right person, and if both partners think this way even the wrong shadows will be lighted by understanding. it's like saying i am the right person for the right person. tell this to your partner."

"i am the right person for the right person." mark whispered into your ears.

"hmm? what?" you weakly said. your eyes still closed. mark just chuckled and kissed your forehead.

"nothing." then put the vibrator to max.

"mark!" you screamed and everyone turned their heads towards you. you blood went down to your feet and nervously smile. "i- love your son sir..." you embarrassingly confessed. mark was trying to suppress his laugh while the people around you awed.

"and that's an example of my preach today."

you glared at mark, he just grinned and kiss your love.

"i love you too." he said.

"i want to smack you in the head." you angrily said. he just laughed.

this is going to be the last chapter. sorry for waiting to much, BUT there's a BONUS chapter there's no story on that just pure 🥵

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Tag List: @jenotation @babylion-mork @cloudykeiji @jjikyuu @sunshinedhyuck @wassup-haeyadwae @mrklyy @resceluwu @jenonctcity @wanlore @watermelonlovermark @erisxczenie @marksquare @lalaname

[plaidbooks]

Rough Beginnings

A/N: So! This idea spawned after reading @cycat-carisi​ story, We. Please read that first, then come back here for this prequel! This also covers the Mafia square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

Tags: mentions of a prostitution ring, talks of murder and mafia-related goings-on

Words: 1964

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

(gif by @resparza​ )

Sonny never hated his job more than when he went undercover. He had hated when he was posing as a homeless man with an eye for children, but this was worse. So. Much. Worse.

His cover story for this job was that he was part of the Italian mob, and he had been hired on as security for a prostitution ring; some huge network that was international but had its roots right here in Manhattan. Him, along with multiple real mafia members, were in charge of transporting girls, drugs, and anything else the head honcho told them to.

It had been three months since he went under; his beard itched his face still, his leather jacket was starting to be uncomfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of these bastards down. But they didn’t have enough yet. So, he had to stick it out a little longer—at least, that’s what he told himself. A little longer, a little longer. He wasn���t sure how much “little longer” he had left in him.

Sonny lived in the housing quarters his boss supplied him, along with three other mafia guys. He had almost zero contact with the world outside his job—all the information he gathered was sent in a coded text from a burner. But he was starting to miss his friends and family. At least his employer understood that as part of the Italian mob, Sonny was allowed to go to church on Sundays…if there wasn’t something big happening.

His saving grace came a month later, while standing guard at his boss’s door. A woman he’d seen before came stomping up to him, and he braced himself; he knew that look.

“Let me see my father,” you snarled.

Sonny rose his hands defensively. “I was given orders ta not let anyone in. That includes you,” he replied, crossing his arms once more and trying to puff out his chest. But you simply glared at him.

“Fuck you; let me in, before I force my way in,” you growled.

He chuckled, eyeing you. “Ya really think you can get passed me? Let’s see ya try, doll.”

You gave him another impressive glare before trying to lunge passed him, reaching for the handle. Sonny caught you easily around your midsection, lifting you and placing you down at arm’s length in front of him.

“That the best ya got?” he teased. This wasn’t the first time you tried to brute force your way passed him before, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But you had a trick up your sleeve.

You let your bottom lip quiver, tears appearing in your eyes. “Pl-please, sir, let m-me see my—” you trailed off, sniffling loudly.

“Ah geez, don’t be doing that. Come on; he’s in a meeting and will be out soon. Just wait a lil, okay?” he said, a touch of pleading in his voice.

But you didn’t stop, letting the tears trail down your cheeks. You let out a loud sob, and Sonny wanted to rip his hair out; he didn’t need a tantrum with daddy’s spoiled brat right now. He internally winced at that; he didn’t really believe that that was what you were, but when you came up here, trying to cry your way in, his mind went there.

You let out another loud sob. “Please, doll, I promise ta let him know as soon as he’s free—” Sonny started, but he was cut off by the door behind him opening. He stood at attention—like a good little lapdog—and the man who was having a meeting with his employer came out. He took one look at you, then left, rolling his eyes. You quickly wiped your face with your shirt before your dad appeared.

“And what are you doing here?” your father asked, annoyance dripping from his voice.

Sonny felt bad for you, but said nothing, gave away no emotions on his face as you requested to speak with him, privately.

He nodded, and Sonny moved out of the way, letting you enter, the door closing softly behind you both. He released a breath; it was always high tension after a meeting. But Sonny also found himself feeling sorry for you, having a father like that. He was hoping that when the walls came down, you’d at least be spared; you had no real idea of your father’s business, how big and deep it ran.

The meeting between you and your father didn’t last long, and soon enough, the door was opening once more behind him.

“Sonny; drive my daughter home. Giuliano will cover you until you're back,” your father ordered.

Sonny nodded, letting you pass him before following you. He kept his emotions in check, but he saw the look on your face; sadness, betrayal, and fear. He vaguely wondered what you had talked about but didn’t want to pry; he could be fired or worse for it.

It wasn’t until halfway through the drive to your place that he asked if you were okay.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, staring out the window.

Sonny wasn’t sure why he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut; the words just spilled out. “Ya father is a hard man. I’m sorry ya have ta deal with that.” It was a mistake, he knew; if you were indeed loyal to your father, then saying that out loud was a good way to end up dead.

You blinked in surprise at his bluntness, and for his apology. “Y—yeah, he is. I wouldn’t let him catch you saying that, though.”

He nodded. “Uh, how ‘bout makin’ it our little secret, then?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that you’d say nothing about this to him.

“Our little secret…. Yeah, okay,” you replied dryly, eyes going back to the window.

 *******************

After that conversation, Sonny’s boss would often send him to you, whether to drive you or as extra protection—more like babysitting, to Sonny. But he found that he couldn’t complain; it was the only time he could be close to his true self…plus it was safer and better than doing other, illicit things. Even if he should be doing those things for intel. And of course, he never slipped up like he had on that first car ride. No, he was Sonny from the Italian mob, not the soft-hearted detective. He held you at arm’s length, determined to not let the mask slip. But something about you got to him, and he found himself afraid of you. Afraid that he’d make a mistake, and that you would see right through him.

“Sonny, why do you do this job?” you asked one day while he was driving you home. It had been over a month since your father had basically assigned Sonny to you.

He tried to stay neutral, but you saw how he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “’Cause it’s a job. I was hired.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it,” you replied, smiling.

His jaw tightened. “Nah, see, when my boss tells me ta do somethin’, I do it.”

“You’re not like the rest, though. The others, I see murder in their eyes. They have such dark thoughts; it’s almost like they’re hoping my father gives them a kill order,” you explained. True, your father told you that they were security guards for his business, but you never bought that story; they were more like murderers than security. The day when Sonny kept you out of your father’s office was the first time you noticed that he was different; his eyes were soft, and he talked to you like a person, rather than making vaguely concealed threats. He seemed to genuinely care when you started to fake cry, even though you knew that he knew it was fake.

His bright blue eyes met with yours in the rearview mirror for a brief moment before flicking back to the road. “We don’t kill—”

“Stop lying to me, Sonny. Please. I deserve to know what’s going on,” you said, a slight begging tone in your voice.

So that confirmed it; you had no idea what your father was capable of. Sonny swallowed, wanting this conversation to end. “Talk ta ya father, not me—”

“I’ve tried! Multiple times! I’m not an idiot; I know he’s shady as hell. But just what are you protecting?”

“If he’s not willin’ ta tell ya, then that should tell ya somethin’, right?” he asked. He pulled over in front of your art studio, putting the car in park and getting out. You thought about his words; it was more than you got from anyone else. To be honest, Sonny always gave you more than anyone else; he didn’t sneer at you, ignore you, call you names like “brat”. And he definitely didn’t look at you with hungry eyes or creepy smiles. He seemed like…like a generally good person, all things considered. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but you noticed you had developed a crush on him.

All too soon, Sonny was opening the door for you to get out. You thanked him as you exited the car, and felt his presence behind you as you climbed the stairs to the door. He always walked you there, to make sure you were safe.

You unlocked and opened the door, then turned around to face him. He gave you a nod and you thanked him again. But something possessed you in that moment; why else would you have grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you in a kiss?

Sonny froze in place, eyes wide, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back. You looked up at him, the apology dying on your tongue; you weren’t sorry at all. That kiss was worth it in your eyes. But there was an almost…pained? look in Sonny’s eyes.

“D-doll, we can’t—ya father—”

“Never has to know,” you finished for him.

He blinked, obviously warring with himself, and you were sure you knew why; if your father found out about you two, he could have Sonny killed. But, if Sonny felt the same way about you that you did about him, then maybe, just maybe, he could help you escape from under your father. Something about him was safe, trustworthy.

Slowly, you reached up to cup his face. When he didn’t pull away, you gently leaned in again, kissing him slowly, tenderly. He paused for only a moment before he melted against your lips. Then he gently pulled away from you.

“I—I gotta—” He didn’t finish his thought before he turned and hurried down the stairs. You watched him go, hoping that he’d say nothing to your father.

The car door slammed shut and Sonny was quick to turn the car on and leave. What the fuck was he doing, letting you kiss him? And then he kissed you back?! He must be a fucking idiot! Sure, he liked you—more than he was willing to admit—but this could blow his cover. Not to mention get him killed, cover blown or not. Plus, he was lying to you; any feelings you felt weren’t for him but for the façade he put on.

He resolved to keep his distance from you; nothing good could come from any of this. It ended in one of two ways: you, heartbroken over Sonny’s lies, or him buried six feet under in some lot. There was no way to disobey your father if he ordered him to take you home, so there was no avoiding you. Sonny would just have to lay down the rules next time he saw you; absolutely no relationship could exist, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

[kumzume]

SLAP! ft. goshiki tsutomu

wc. 1.7k :D

warnings. SMUT (duh), impact play, slight angst???, a lil fluff, cumming untouched, hard-ish dom!reader, sub!goshiki, established relationship, dom drop (???), shit ending but what’s new lmao

an. i realized i was neglecting this blog while Trying™ to work on desperate pt 2 &&& i was missing my baby goshiki so :p

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

“i’m sorry, you want me to what?”

you could feel the disbelief written all over your face, the absurdity of the situation ticking up the corners of your lips into an incredulous smile.

goshiki—bless his heart—sat fidgeting in front of you, his face painted in a bright pink shade while he played with his lithe fingers in his lap.

you just couldn’t believe your ears. your goshiki—the one who nearly fainted when he asked you out, the one who threw up twice before meeting your parents and the one who sobbed so hard through your vows he was impossible to understand—that same goshiki was asking you to do what??

“i-i asked if y-you would hit me,” he mumbled, eyes downcast as though to avoid rejection, “y’know, during sex.”

okay, so you weren’t having an early stroke when you heard him earlier.

he actually wanted you to hit him—pretty badly it appeared if the bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans was anything to go by.

you took a deep breath in order to ground yourself and collect your thoughts. you knew your husband’s mind was probably going a mile a minute while he awaited your inevitable dismissal of the subject but you needed a moment to just think.

were you seriously opposed to this? i mean, throughout your entire relationship goshiki had always made accommodations for you, from little things like buying more pillows for his bed when you moved in with him to big things like scheduling time off for you when you got too stressed to take you on a vacation.

he’d always been there for you so why couldn’t you do this little thing for him? it was only sex and your relationship was so, so much more than that. giving him this was honestly the least you could do to repay him for all that he’d done for you.

with your mind made up and your resolve successfully steeled, you made your way over to your husband who looked about ready to keel over. you felt your heart clench in your chest, feeling rather bad about leaving him in silence for a good 5 minutes.

it took you a few short strides before you finally stood in front of goshiki, observing the shuddering of his shoulders and his pointed avoidance of eye contact.

you breathed out a soft sigh before bringing your left hand, adorned with your glittering wedding ring, up to his cheek, caressing the warm skin gently. despite his refusal to look you in the face, goshiki leaned into your touch, turning his face so that his petal soft lips were flush with your palm.

carefully, you lifted his face up so that he was finally looking at you. you weren’t at all surprised to see the tears growing in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall over his lashline—he’d always been somewhat of a crybaby.

goshiki stared at you with such adoration and love that you couldn’t help the sharp exhale that escaped from your nose. his eyes fluttered shut as he moved just enough to take your thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking serenely.

the sensation was nearly enough to knock you entirely off track but you quickly regained control of the situation. you slipped your thumb out goshiki’s mouth, your hand roaming to his jaw before gripping him tightly, his eyes shooting open and welling up with tears.

“‘tomu,” you began harshly, “tell me what you said before, hm? what do you want me to do?”

“yn pleas—“ your hand held him tighter causing a choked whimper to slip past his parted lips.

“ah ah ah ‘tomu, you know better than that.” from your place above him, you could see his eyes beginning to glaze over as he sunk into the comfort of your control. the sight never failed to get you, a warm smile almost overtaking your face but you swiftly stomped it out.

the grip on his face tightened once again as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “what do you call me to get what you want ‘tomu?” the warm breath tickling goshiki’s ear sent a shudder crawling down his spine to rest hard and heavy in his pelvis.

“i supposhed to call you mish,” he finally responded, his words muffled by your fingers digging into his cheeks. you let the smile breach your face this time, letting go of his face before turning on your heel to make your way towards the bedroom.

you don’t turn around but you can hear goshiki knock over his chair in his haste to follow behind you. you grinned before schooling your face into an unimpressed mask.

the cool air of your bedroom hit your shoulders causing tiny goosebumps to arise but you ignored the discomfort to focus on goshiki. he had entered the room a while ago, his big bright eyes trained on the ground while he awaited your instruction.

he was so good. that’s what made what you were about to do just that much more fun.

“‘tomu,” you began, your tone harsh and unforgiving. “come here.”

your husband obliged, shuffling over to you until he was only a foot away. despite his naturally submissive nature, he towered above you, his body built from his years of volleyball and working out.

you allowed your eyes to trail down the dips and curves of his body, just barely hidden by his tight t-shirt, leaving little to the imagination.

now that just wouldn’t do. you needed to see all of him.

“take off your clothes.” he was quick to do exactly as you asked, his clothes growing in a pile on your floor until he was clad in only his tight black boxers that did little to hide his hard and leaking cock.

you grinned at the wet patch on the front of his briefs signaling that he was more excited than he let on. the more you stood there observing him, the bigger the wet patch grew and the more he began to squirm.

breathing out a faux-disappointed sigh, you reached out and weaved your hands into his purple strands before yanking him down to the floor, his knees crashing against the hardwood painfully.

the sound he released was so guttural that you nearly stopped the scene right then and there but the way he moaned your name and rutted his hips in the air at the pain had you hesitating.

you agreed to this, yes, but could you really go through with it? you mentally shook your head at the sentiment. no, you were going to hurt him and he was going to like it.

with a new outlook, your stare grew harsher and your words became more pointed. “what a little pain slut, getting off on this,” you sneered, enjoying how goshiki’s eyes filled with tears.

“miss i—“ SLAP! the sound rang throughout the room, echoing off the plaster walls. goshiki’s head was whipped all the way to the side, a bright red imprint beginning to form on his cheek. your hand stung at the severeness of the hit so you could hardly imagine how much pain your husband was in.

you were horrified at how hard you had hit him, your mind too embalmed in the dominant persona to think before you hit.

“oh fucking hell, baby i am so sorry,” your current whimpering voice a far cry from the bitter tone you had held only minutes ago. you immediately dropped to your knees before very carefully taking his heated face in your hands.

when one of your palms touched the affected area, goshiki flinched away from you and the pain. you felt your heart break in your chest at the gesture, his eyes remaining downcast and away from you.

“tsutomu, you have to believe me, i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you rambled while tears filled your eyes. you were repelled by what you had done, your mouth pouring out apology after apology.

“i just thought it was what you wanted but i shouldn’t have taken it that far and—“

“yn,” goshiki interrupted, one of his calloused hands coming to lift your chin so that your eyes met his. “it’s okay.”

he looked at you with such kindness and love but you just couldn’t accept it. “tsutomu, i hurt you,” you pleaded, your vision becoming blurry with yet another wave of tears.

through the liquid in your eyes, you managed to see goshiki shake his head before taking your hand in his and leading it down to the front of his boxers. your breath caught in your throat as your fingertips met with the wet—soaking—cotton fabric that engulfed his dick.

you looked back up at him with wide eyes which he met with a blinding smile. “i came,” he said nonchalantly, “you made me come.”

he came... from your slap?

if that wasn’t the hottest thing in the world, you had no idea what was.

“tsutomu, i...” you couldn’t finish your sentence due to goshiki’s slightly chapped pink lips being pressed to yours in a passionate kiss.

your eyes fluttered shut as you gave into him, your arms coming to rest in his silky purple strands while your tongue pressed itself into the warm cavern of his mouth.

goshiki pulled away first, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to catch his breath. your eyes remained closed for a moment while you tried to still your own rapidly beating heart but when they opened, you were met with his wide-eyed stare of adoration.

“i love you yn,” he muttered before kissing you on the nose and standing, not allowing you to respond. he pulled you up with him (you always forget how strong he is) before burying his face in your neck.

you giggled at his childish behavior, one of your hands coming up to stroke through his hair. “what do you need ‘tomu?” you asked, placing gentle kisses around his ear.

“need to shower. ‘m all sticky.” you both laughed at that before pulling apart and leading him to the bathroom.

“okay but if i have to clean off your dick, i expect at least two orgasms from you, mr. ace.”

“yes ma’am!”

“god, i love you.”

[falling-pages]

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

-

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

-

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

-

TW: Drinking

-

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

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

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Four: The Foundation of Growth

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Silas is officially his own warning! Death of a parent, depressive undertones, grief, food, pls lmk if I missed any!

W/C: 3.3k

A/N: This one is loaded with feelings guys, I didn't mean for it to be so heavy handed in the grief area, but I hope the conversation Ezra has with Reader offsets that. I definitely got into my own feelings about loss with this one, so I'm really sorry in advance if it's too much to handle. Read at your own risk, I've said it before, this story is not for everyone, always take care of yourself first & foremost lovelies. I've got some fluff coming up to make up for this one! I'm still building the plot you guys, I hope you're still with me!

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Chapter Three || Chapter Five

~MAY THIRD OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Two weeks have since passed; Pa and Ezra had tediously worked the fields, sowed the seeds with care, and the fruition of all their work thus far has resulted in the small sprouts now growing from the Earth. ‘One of Mother Nature’s greatest gifts’, Ezra had said once while you gazed upon the rows of leaflets. Rebirth, growth, new beginnings. You find yourself envying the fresh buds, wishing to crawl into the dirt and begin again as well.

The shop is quiet today. Since you chased away the older women looking to learn more about Ezra Prospect, you haven’t heard a peep since. Quite surprising, though you count your blessings and hope the silence will hold, if only for a moment longer. The children play in the road with the stray town dog and you catch yourself giggling as you watch them. Such innocence in their youth. You only hope life treats them kinder than it had to you.

The shop bell dinging pulls you out of your thoughts and you stand straighter to greet the customer. Lucille Jones enters, without the overbearing presence of her mother – a shock in and of itself. She walks with her hands entwined in front of her, her head lowered some, and blonde ringlets of hair fall forward to frame her face, but she still carries a gentle smile on her face as she looks up at you.

As much as you pitied the outcome of your own life, you could not help but pity Lucille’s tenfold. Her father had fought and perished in the war, the only person to have shown her love and caring, and she was now left with her mother, who was ready to practically pawn her off to the next richest man to come through town.

Were it not for her mother’s meddling, you know the two of you would be great friends. She may be the only other person in this town who can empathize with your despondency; her dreams, likely, have been ripped from her as well. Though, it makes the curiosity spark within you as you wonder why exactly she has shown up in the shop so suddenly and without her mother.

“Hello, Lucille. It’s nice to see you,” you say politely. She nods in return. Timid girl. “May I interest you in anything? I’ve concocted a new healing agent to help with the pesky bug bites during the summer,” you offer gently.

“I-I’ve…” She squeaks. You cock your head slightly at her.

“Lucille, what has your nerves so rattled?”

“I’ve come as a favor to my mother. And Mrs. Foster and Mrs. McKenna.”

She faces you head on now, her soft voice filled with determination to complete her mission, yet her eyes, filled with regret, betray her. You raise your eyebrows in contempt and sigh deeply, and upon seeing your reaction, Lucille’s desire to help her mother gossip dissipates. She quickly steps forward, the heels of her white boots clacking against the wooden floors and the skirts of her pink dress flowing behind her.

“I’m so sorry, I did not wish to come and gossip. It is not my desire. My mother… She would not rest until I agreed to come here,” she laments, the quiver in her voice proving to you that she truly meant no harm. “I will pass on the news that you will speak to no one. Forgive me,” she says, her head hanging lower now than at the start of this conversation as she turns to walk away.

“Wait,” you call out. She stops in her tracks, but does not turn to face you again. You walk around the counter to her position. “Lucille… Why do you follow what your mother commands of you?” You ask softly.

“I…” She looks up in your eyes, tears forming in her own and you swear you feel a string in your heart snap at the sight. “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. You can choose to leave all this behind, leave this town and its capability to drain the life from you. You do have a choice for how you desire to live your life.”

You hold her by her shoulders as you speak and you realize you are sharing advice with her that could very well be said to your own face. You know it is not a possibility for you, but if you were able to help Lucille leave town and save her from feeling the same hopelessness as you, a part of you would be freed as well, knowing she will have been able to move on to better things.

She stares at you, the tears in her eyes now dried up and you see a small spark of hope in them, but before you can speak more to nurture that spark into a larger flame, the shop bell dings again. Based on the dark figure in your peripheral, the stomp of large, gaudy boots walking in, the heady scent of cheap cologne filling your nostrils, you know exactly who it is.

Lucille looks at the man first and you remove your hands from her shoulders, taking a step back and inhaling a deep breath, nearly choking on the fragrance now overpowering the shop.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor,” Lucille greets, bowing her head slightly.

“Hiya sweetheart,” he responds in a predatory voice and you snap your head in his direction.

“How can I help you, Silas?” You ask quickly before he can intimidate poor Lucille.

“I heard you’ve got some queer working on the farm now,” he chuckles.

“Do not call him that,” you bite and Silas immediately stops laughing.

“Darlin’,” he takes a step toward you and Lucille backs away against the shop wall. “Don’t tell me you have befriended him. You’re too good for the likes of a freak.”

“You don’t know him,” you reply, keeping your head held high with determination, but you instinctually flinch when Silas barks out a laugh.

“And you do?!” He says, grinning wickedly. “For your sake, honey, I truly hope not.”

“What is your meaning, Silas? He works on my farm, it is only natural that I will, and have, come to know him.”

“Perhaps,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more aggressive, octave. “Just be aware of the consequences if you come to know him as more than the simple farmhand he is.”

You wish to spit in his face, to continue defending Ezra, yet the instincts within you beg for you to stop. Though you’ve never been one to cower at Silas and his schemes, you’ve also never seen him as he is before you. Crazed, animalistic, frightening. You’re unsure of what he truly is capable of and you would hate for now to be the time to learn.

Despite the resolute expression you attempt to hold, your eyes must shine with the light fear he managed to instill in you with his threat because he flashes a satisfied smirk, a laugh escaping his flared nostrils as he backs away from you. He turns on his heels and faces Lucille again, huffing a goodbye to her and glancing over his shoulder at you before walking out.

“Are you all right?” Lucille asks softly. You only nod in return. “That man is…” She scoffs, understanding how loathsome he is.

“Not a man. A beast.”

~MAY FIFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As you exit the house, ready to meet Ezra at the place you now share together, you reach up to grab an apple from the tree for yourself and throw it in your bag along with your book. You take a step away then halt just as quickly. You consider Ezra, and smile to yourself as you reach up again to grab another apple from the branch, setting it gently inside your bag.

As you approach the oak, you see Ezra standing near the edge of the river, his hands clasped behind his back and head held high. He seems to be enjoying the scenery and you try to lighten your steps so as to not draw him from his serene moment, but the grass crunches under your boots as you walk, regardless of how careful you are, and Ezra turns his head in the direction of the noise, smiling brightly once he sees you.

“Dear Sunflower, I was afraid you would not show today,” he says as he turns his whole body to face you.

“My apologies,” you catch your lip in between your teeth, hiding the amused grin forming on your face, your heart skipping a beat at the knowledge that he had been waiting for your arrival. You dig in your bag in search of the apple you plucked specially for him. “A gift for keeping you waiting,” you say and hold the bright, red fruit out to him.

“Sunflower,” he gasps softly, as though you had just handed him a precious gem. “Thank you. A sweet and kind gesture from someone as equally generous; it will not be forgotten.”

You nod once while you bite the inside of your cheeks. What has gotten you so giddy? He merely gave his thanks for your offering, but the smile on his face, his eyes searching yours to clue him in on what has you so affected, makes a schoolgirl-ish giggle escaping your throat.

You reach for your own apple and drop your bag down in the grass, closer to the tree, and you step closer to the river, kneeling down and carefully dipping the apple into the cool stream to wash the skin. Ezra kneels down beside you and follows your lead.

“These are from the tree by the house. The last tree I was able to plant with my mother before she-”

You pause, immediately feeling your throat constrict and halting any further words from falling from your lips. You’ve not spoken so carefree of your mother to anyone, and the suddenness of your desire to do so catches you off guard. Though you have gotten to know Ezra as more than an acquaintance, the truth of the matter was he is still a stranger to you.

You sense the energy shift around you, and you bite your tongue in penance for turning such a peaceful time into an unpleasant one. Ezra stops washing his apple and leans up straight again while you keep your hands under the cold water, scared to look into his eyes and see judgement.

“Sunflower,” he calls and you startle slightly. After a moment of silence, he speaks again. “If you were to wash that fruit any longer, I’m afraid it may lose its red complexion and turn into a shade of white.”

You cannot help the awkward chuckle that falls from your mouth and you lean up straight as well, still avoiding his gaze as you dry the apple with your apron. Aside from the running water next to you, the air is silent, neither of you speaking a word.

You continue drying the apple, turning it over and over in the cloth around your waist, even though you’re sure there are no water droplets remaining. Suddenly, a loud chomp is heard and your eyes snap up to the offending noise to see Ezra bringing the apple away from his lips, and the two of you break out into gentle laughter.

“Sunflower,” he begins after swallowing the piece of fruit in his mouth. “This is truly the sweetest apple I’ve ever bitten into, and I wholeheartedly believe it is because you and your dear mother were the ones to nurture the tree that grew it.”

The smile that remained on your face from your laughter slowly falls as you remember the day your mother suggested you plant the tree from a seed she accidentally bit into. You can recall her giggles as she grabbed you by the hand and pulled you outside, instructing you to grab the small shovel that was laid by the house while she held the seed in her closed fist.

Pa had said it would not take, chuckling and shaking his head as your mother shooed him away, reprimanding him for cursing the seedling before it had a chance to grow. And, with much love and dedication that your mother insisted on carrying out together, the small tree grew, and soon after, sprouted the shiny, red globes.

“I… I apologize for the sudden change of atmosphere, Ezra,” you say quietly, glancing up at him sheepishly and, to your surprise, are met with a gentle smile of understanding across his face.

“Please do not apologize for reminiscing upon your loved one. It is a hobby I frequently partake in. The memories… They are what keep them alive. No longer with us in the physical sense, yet they live in the grass, in the rivers. In the trees.”

“Like the Green?” You ask shyly as you pick at the stem of your apple.

“Yes. They are born again, just in a different form, but always here to remind you of life. Much like the apple tree is a reminder of your mother.”

You wonder to yourself if Ezra has been a victim of loss as well. The way he speaks of it seems as though he talks from experience, but you do not dare ask. As uncomfortable as it can be for you to speak about your mother, you’d hate to bring that discomfort to him as well. Yet… He speaks so openly, so calmly, that you feel yourself longing to open up.

“Perhaps if I dream of the Green, I would see my mother again,” you say under your breath, feeling the tears that have so long desired to flow build in your eyes with an unbearable pressure.

“You do not need to wait until your dreams, dear Sunflower. You only need to look around at the life surrounding you to know she is here. Close your eyes and she will appear.”

You only have the strength to nod, the lump stuck in your throat as thick as Pa’s dreadful grits he so enjoys making during the winter. A small laugh bubbles over as you remember the way your mother put up the facade of enjoying his grits only to empty them in a bucket to be fed to the cows at a later time.

You look back up at Ezra and he smiles, his eyes shining with compassion, no hint of judgement or scrutiny to be found, and the lump in your throat vanishes, comfort radiating from his person onto you like a warm, wool blanket.

“Would…” You hesitate, but an overwhelming urge to share with Ezra commands you to continue. “Would you like to see her?”

“I would love to,” he nods gently.

You smile softly, leaving your apple to rest in your lap while you carefully pull at the chain around your neck until the small locket emerges from underneath your blouse. You scoot closer to Ezra and he mimics your movement, leaning closer to you as well and you recognize that this is the first time he has been in such close proximity to you.

You shove the tip of your fingernail between the crevice of the locket until it pops open, revealing the black and white photograph of your mother that you yourself have not taken the opportunity to look at in far too long. The length of the chain is still too short for Ezra to get a proper look, so he leans in closer, your heads mere inches apart.

You feel your pulse thumping against your chest, the vein in your neck throbbing as you feel the heat emanating from him. He smells of cedarwood and the hay bed he sleeps on, a light scent of sweat from working the fields, and something almost sweet, a unique aroma to be found only on his person and no one else.

“She is very beautiful, Sunflower. It is as plain as the nose on my face that you are her daughter,” he compliments, backing away from you slowly and you giggle softly as you place the locket back into your blouse. “What is her name?”

“Emma,” you smile genuinely, for once feeling not one ounce of sadness as you say her name aloud.

“Emma. She is now the sun, moon, and stars that shine down on you, Sunflower.”

You smile once again and nod as you place your hand on your chest, feeling the cool metal press against the warm skin covering your sternum. You close your eyes and let the sun’s rays warm your cheeks as you take a deep breath, heeding Ezra’s thoughtful words and imagining that your mother is, indeed, the sun kissing your face.

“Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts, Ezra,” you say after a beat of prolonged silence. As you look over at him, you see his head lowering, too, as if he had mimicked your action and let the warmth of the sun fall on his face as well.

“You have no need to thank me, dear one. I am elated you deemed me worthy to share your thoughts with. If you ever desire to share again, please know I am here,” he says softly as he smiles.

“You are a very good friend, Ezra. I am happy to know you.”

“And I, you.”

You look down at your lap to your forgotten apple, raising it to your mouth to take a bite and Ezra resumes eating his as well. Once you’ve both bitten down to the core, you both toss them into the river and you stand up, allowing the blood to circulate through your legs again before heading over to the tree.

You bend over to collect your bag along the way and your book falls from the opening as you stand straight. Before you are able to bend down to grab it, Ezra is already there, lifting it in his hands while he reads the cover.

“‘Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland’?” He smiles quizzically.

“I understand it is for children, but I quite enjoy the adventure and wonder of it,” you say, smiling from embarrassment.

“I do not judge what a young lady chooses to read in her spare time, Sunflower,” he grins as he hands the book to you. “I have yet to read this one. Will you read it aloud for me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “If you’d like.”

You both sit down in the grass, leaning your backs against the trunk of the oak tree as you find the page you last left off. The scene of Alice’s trial has Ezra suddenly captivated as to what caused Alice to be put on trial, unfairly it seemed. You do your best to explain, which only produces more questions from Ezra.

You giggle at his frustration over the treatment of this poor girl and decide to start the book over for Ezra to follow along, a genuine happiness washing over you at the thought of reading this story to Ezra for the weeks to come. He leans in closer, as though the distance you had between you previously was too far for him to hear you and you stumble over your words slightly.

You still do not understand this feeling overcoming you; the only thing you do understand is that you do not feel the need to place a guard around yourself as you do with the others in town. You want to share with Ezra, you feel comfortable enough with him already, though he has only been here for two weeks.

Yet, you feel as though you know him better than most around you and you feel that he understands you better than even your Pa. It frightens you, yet you have no desire to run from it, but rather towards it. A new path you find yourself carving into your mind.

Chapter Three || Chapter Five

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Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @quietpainter @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi

[stahlop]

The Night We Met

Summary:

Ever since Emma and Neal started dating, his roommate, Killian, has always been a jerk. But now that Emma and Neal have broken up, will she see Killian in a different light? Especially when she finds out the truth about why he's always hated her?

Rated M

Also on A03

Happy belated birthday @mariakov81! I have finally finished your birthday fic. I hope you enjoy this college/enemies to lovers/miscommunication au.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for being my beta on this one.

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

“Ruby, I’m tired, I really don’t want to go to this party,” Emma whined as Ruby walked through her door.

“Too bad,” Ruby trilled at her. “You promised. You’ve been working like a dog. And besides, maybe you’ll get yourself laid tonight.” She smiled her wolfish grin at her.

“Ruby, I don’t need to get laid. I’m perfectly fine!” Emma huffed and settled herself back down into the couch cushions.

“Emma,” Ruby said, sitting next to her on their overly plush couch. She threw back her red tinged, brown locks, and grabbed Emma’s hands from where she’d had her arms crossed over her chest in indignation. “You have not been with anyone since you and Neal broke up. Not even a one-night stand or a rebound to get over him. I know he hurt you..”

“He fucking cheated on me for half of our three year relationship, Ruby!” Emma said, pulling her hands back and willing the tears that pricked her eyes not to fall. She wasn’t going to get upset about fucking Neal again. “Thank goodness I always insisted on condoms even though I was on birth control. Who knows what kinds of diseases he could’ve picked up.” The memory of finding Neal with another woman in their bed was seared into her memory. The fact that he’d apparently been cheating on her with multiple women over the course of their relationship made her feel like the biggest failure on the planet. But Emma always got left, always, so she really shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“I know what you’re thinking, Emma Swan, and it’s not true. You did not deserve this.” Emma raised her eyes to look at her roommate. How the hell could she always read her mind? “I know you,” Ruby said as if she had, in fact, read her mind. “I’ve known you since we were 15 and Granny took you in off the streets, fed you, and never let you leave.” Emma smiled at the memory. As a 15-year-old foster kid runaway, Emma had tried to take some food from Ruby’s grandmother’s diner dumpsters, but had been caught by Granny herself. Emma had thought she would call the cops on her, as had been her experience, but instead, she called 15-year-old Ruby down from the apartment over the diner and together, they had made what Emma had constituted as a feast (really just grilled cheese, steamed broccoli, onion rings, a hot chocolate with whipped cream, and a piece of cherry pie for dessert). Emma had made to leave as they’d done their good deed for the day, but they insisted on Emma staying in their spare room (and with a stern warning from Granny that if anything were missing in the morning, she would hunt her down). And somehow, Emma had fought the urge to run, and eventually, Granny ended up getting permission to foster her, and she had never left. Now she and Ruby were finishing up their senior year of college and Emma did not need her foster sister to try and convince her to go to some end of the year college house party.

“Look, Neal was a raging douche. I’m just sorry he had to break your heart for you to see it. But it’s been six months, Emma. It’s time to end the wallowing and come out!” Ruby gave her a stern look and Emma knew she was done for. She could never say no to that look, and Ruby knew it.

“Fine!” Emma practically bolted off the couch. “But don’t expect me to have any fun,” she warned as she headed off to her bedroom to change.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ruby said, waving her hand behind her as she went through the door of her own room.

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

Emma sighed a breath of relief as she sat down in the recently vacated spot on the couch. There was a couple making out on the other end of the couch, but as long as they didn’t invade her space, she wasn’t too worried about them. She’d been making the rounds with Ruby for the past hour and the heels that she’d picked out to wear were not being kind to her feet whatsoever.

She had just grabbed her phone out of her wristlet, flicked her blonde hair back behind her, and was just about to check the time when she heard his voice.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she knew more would be coming. “This doesn’t really seem like your scene,” the heavily accented, British voice continued on.

“And what exactly is my scene, Jones?” Emma didn’t even look up from her phone, just opened it up and started to scroll through Instagram so that she didn’t have to actually speak to him. She groaned when she felt the couch dip next to her. She glanced past him to where the couple had been making out just seconds ago, but it seemed as if they’d decided to take their activities to someplace more private.

“Aren’t you usually at bars or at Neal’s place?” Emma wasn’t sure if he was asking a genuine question, or if he just didn’t have a good zinger for her (which was pretty much his thing). But it was obvious from his answer that he didn’t know some important information.

“Neal and I broke up,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and not like her heart was still breaking six months later. It wasn’t even Neal she was upset about, it was the being lied to and cheated on part that still got her upset. That she had put her heart out there and Neal had essentially stomped all over it, making her feel like that lost girl all over again. She looked over at him expecting to see an ‘I told you so’ smirk on his face, but instead, he looked rather upset.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said, a solemn expression washing over his face. “I truly am. I know how happy you two were.” Emma almost burst out laughing. 

“Are you mocking me, Killian?” She wasn’t angry, just confused. “Because I seem to recall you not liking me at all when Neal and I were dating. Considering you were his roommate for most of the time we were together, I rarely ever saw you. And when I did you showed your disdain toward me pretty flagrantly.” Great. Now she was all riled up again. The last thing she needed tonight was to get into an argument with Killian Jones who had been the bane of her existence when she and Neal were together.

The expression on his face morphed from concern to pure anger after her little outburst. “I don’t even know why I try with you, Swan.” He pushed himself up off the couch and started to walk off before he stopped sharply, turned around, and came back over to her.

“I don’t know what I ever did for you to be so combative towards me, but now that you're not with Neal I don’t have to put up with it anymore. Go screw yourself!” Emma watched in shock as he stalked away from her and started up the stairs. The few people who were in the room with her all had looks of disbelief on their faces at the scene that had just transpired. Emma felt her whole body start to flush in embarrassment before she realized that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Who the fuck does he think he is? she thought, her embarrassment now turning to anger. She and Killian had always had an antagonistic relationship. They had never gotten along. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She’d actually met him before Neal as they’d had a class together sophomore year, but they’d only made small talk at that point. They’d flirted a bit and she’d thought he’d been interested, but then Neal had asked her out instead and Killian had made it clear that not only had he not been interested (what with the girlfriend Neal told her he had), but that he really didn’t like her at all. Every time she’d go over to their apartment, no matter what she said, he retorted back with some kind of insult or sarcastic comment. It had almost been a relief when he’d moved out a year and a half into her and Neal’s relationship.

“You try with me?” she asked incredulously, running after him up the stairs and trying not to knock over any of the, most likely, drunk people who were congregating there. Killian turned around toward her, his blue eyes flashing angrily at her. He looked like he was going to say something back to her, but then his whole body deflated with a resigned sigh that said ‘Great, I guess we’re doing this.’ And before Emma could even comprehend what was happening, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty bedroom right off the stairs, locking the door behind them.

“Did you know?” she asked before he could get a word in. 

“Know what, Swan?” Killian asked as if this whole thing was an inconvenience for him, even though he was the one who dragged her into the room.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “That Neal was cheating on me?” Killian’s eyes went wide for a split second before he tried to cover it up with a look of disbelief, but that was enough for Emma to see that, yes, he indeed knew that Neal had been cheating on her.

“Wow,” Emma said, trying to blink back the tears that had started pricking her eyes, all the fight leaving her body. “I knew you hated me, but I never expected you to sit idly by while Neal cheated on me.” She sank down on the bed and proceeded to use the heel of her hand to try and stop the tears from actually falling. She glanced a look at Killian, expecting to see him gloating or a mirthful smile gracing his lips, but instead, he looked absolutely crestfallen.

“I had my suspicions,” he began, running his hands through his hair, making it stand straight up and yet still making him look devilishly handsome, not that Emma was noticing. Nope. She was too upset to notice how Killian looked. “I confronted Neal about it and he told me to mind my own business. That’s why I moved out. I may be a bit of a scoundrel, Swan, but it’s bad form to cheat.” He made a move to sit down next to her on the bed, pausing to silently ask permission before she nodded yes and the bed dipped next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you even suspected?” Emma asked. She was staring at the god awful bedspread they were sitting on. It looked like it was denim with rhinestones all over it. How could that be comfortable to sleep on? She felt the bed shake and saw Killian scratching behind his ear, a nervous tell she’d noticed over the years. She wondered why he was nervous talking to her right now.

“Honestly, Swan, I figured you wouldn’t believe me. I mean,” he paused for a moment as if he were going to reveal some big unspoken truth between them, “you did choose him over me. I didn’t want to come off as jealous and petty.” She nodded as if that made sense, but then realized it made no sense.

Jealous and petty? 

Chose Neal over him?

“What the hell are you talking about, Killian?” The sadness that she’d been feeling was replaced by utter confusion. 

Killian took a deep breath as if he couldn’t believe they were going to discuss this. “Look, I know you always felt a bit uncomfortable about me being Neal’s roommate, since you rejected me so grandly. I guess that’s why I was always so sarcastic toward you -”

“No, seriously, Killian,” she said, cutting him off, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. When did I reject you?” She’d turned to face him now. She was sure her face had the most puzzled expression on it since this conversation had taken a turn. Killian’s eyes searched hers as if looking for the prank she was playing on him, but when he couldn’t, he continued talking.

“That night in the bar. You rejected me and chose Neal,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know I keep saying this, Jones, but what the hell are you talking about? I never even spoke to you the night Neal and I got together in the bar. How could I have rejected you?” God, had she drank more than she thought that this whole conversation with Killian made no sense whatsoever? Killian let out a huff of frustration.

“I was perfectly happy never to bring this up, since you never did, but I guess we’re finally going to have this out. That night. At the bar. I thought we were flirting. It seemed like we were flirting.”

They had been flirting. She’d been waiting for her friends at a table by herself when she’d noticed Killian Jones from her biology class sitting with Neal at a table across the room. They’d practically been eye fucking each other from their perspective tables when Neal had walked over to her table and surprised her by asking her out instead.

“You had a girlfriend!” Emma said, accusingly. And now she was back to being angry. She jumped up from the bed, intent on leaving the room. Why the hell did he feel the need to rehash all this from three years ago? She’d felt humiliated when Neal had told her Killian had a girlfriend. She must have completely imagined the flirting that she thought he’d been reciprocating. 

“What are you going on about, Swan?” he asked. Apparently it was Killian’s turn to be confused. He was wearing the most perplexed look on his face that Emma had ever seen.

“Your girlfriend, Mia, or Mina, or whatever. You were dating her when Neal and I started seeing each other, so you couldn’t have been flirting with me!” Emma was exhausted from this whole exchange. She knew she shouldn’t have let Ruby convince her to come out tonight. And here she was only, she checked the digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, one hour into the party and she was already fighting with Jones. And she wasn’t even sure what they were fighting about this time. Just that she felt like she was reliving one of the more embarrassing interactions she’d had with him.

Killian sat there looking shell shocked. “Milah?” he asked incredulously. Emma shrugged.  “Neal’s cousin? I never dated her. I met her at a party, once. The party you came to as Neal’s girlfriend for the first time. Whatever gave you the idea I was dating her?”

Emma furrowed her brow, trying to recall that night three years ago. “Neal told me you were,” she said slowly. Killian scrunched his face in a look of confusion. He headed back over to the bed and sat down. He looked like he was thinking about something and Emma started to feel like an intruder in the room. She was about to suggest she head back to the party when he patted the spot next to him.

“Come sit, Swan. I feel like we need to clear the air about a few things.” The solemn look on his face was enough for Emma to follow his instructions. After she’d settled herself on a patch of the bedspread that did not contain rhinestones trying to puncture her through her jeans, Killian began to speak. “Let me see if I have the order of events correct from that night in the bar. You and I were flirting.” Emma attempted to interrupt him by reminding him that she was flirting, but she’d obviously misinterpreted his intentions, but he put his pointer finger to her lips to stop her. “Sh Sh Shush. It’s storytime,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“So, you and I were flirting, or, at least, I was flirting. I was flirting with you in our bio class at school and I couldn’t believe my luck that you were sitting there at that all ages college bar flirting with me. But, I wasn’t as confident back then, so when Neal offered to be my wingman and kind of feel you out about your feelings for me, I jumped on the opportunity. I sat there watching the conversation from my table. I watched you smile at him and then look over at me and my heart practically soared out of my chest that you might be agreeing to pursue something with me. And then your face fell and you looked over at me again, but this time with a little more scorn in it, and then you and Neal just kept talking and talking, and the longer I sat there the more I felt like the biggest fool just sitting there. I could tell your affections had shifted. And then Neal came back over to me after you’d finished talking and told me how you’d really been flirting with him and that you’d agreed to go on a date with him, and better luck next time.” Killian hadn’t looked at her throughout the entire part of his story, probably afraid to see her reaction to it. Probably afraid that she would be mocking him in some way since that’s what their relationship had been since she’d been with Neal, and now she understood why.

“But, that’s not what happened,” Emma said with an anguished cry. Killian’s face snapped up toward hers so fast she thought he might have hurt something. “I was flirting with you. I’d been crushing on you so hard. And then you were in the bar. I wanted to come over and talk with you, but I didn’t want to lose the table I was saving for my friends. When Neal came over, I thought maybe you’d sent him instead. But then he told me that you hadn’t been flirting, that I must have misinterpreted. That you had been with your girlfriend, Milah, for a while now, and could I possibly consider getting to know him and go out on a date with him instead. And I felt like the biggest fool,” she said repeating his words back to him, “but Neal was cute and nice and I thought, why not. And then he brought me to that party and Milah was all over you and that just confirmed to me that everything I thought had been happening between us was just in my head, so I agreed to be Neal’s girlfriend that night.” A thought struck her and she gasped.

“That’s why you’ve been so mean to me? You thought I rejected you for Neal?” She felt horrible now, knowing the truth.

“Aye,” he said, scratching that area behind his ear again. “I admit, I didn’t deal with my feelings about being rejected that well. And the fact that you never said anything about it perturbed me too.”

“He played us both. He was supposed to be your friend and instead he screwed you for a girl.” Emma had thought she’d been pissed at Neal when she’d discovered he’d been cheating, but now she was angrier than she’d ever thought she could be. Neal was the worst of the worst. And to top it all off, he had stopped whatever could have potentially happened between her and Killian from happening.

“It was part of why I moved out. Besides suspecting him of cheating on the most glorious woman I’d ever laid eyes on, I just couldn’t see you two together anymore. It hurt too much.” He gave a shy smile which looked odd on his ruggish face.

“Ugh! Neal is the biggest asshole ever. What the hell did I ever see in him?” Emma asked.

“You see what you want to see when you’re in love,” Killian answered. Emma bit her lip, replaying everything she’d just learned. The last three years had been built on a lie. Neal was the biggest asshole to the tenth degree and Killian was sitting here looking at her as if she hung the moon.

Killian was looking like a man in love.

Emma had thought he was cute back in their freshman year when he’d still had lanky limbs that didn’t seem to fit his body and could barely grow facial hair. And now here he was sitting in front her, his body lean and muscular, beautiful scruff covering the lower half of his face, and a thatch of chest hair sitting exposed from where he’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt (something she always had complained to Neal about when she thought she hated him, but she’d really always wanted to run her fingers through it). She looked up into his eyes and noticed that they were practically black. Only a sliver of blue iris ringed the outside of the pupil. Emma could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest. She’d hated him until only mere minutes ago, hadn’t she? Until the revelation of Neal’s manipulation had come to light. Or had she simply been masking her feelings by engaging in his hateful banter? It only took a split second for her to decide what to do.

She grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and hauled his lips to hers. If Killian seemed surprised by this turn of events, he didn’t show it all, as he immediately started kissing her back. His scruff on her chin felt delightful, his lips were soft on hers, and his hand had threaded its way into her hair and the slight pull felt amazing. She ran her hands through his hair and reveled at how soft it felt. She broke the kiss for a moment to get some air, their foreheads resting against each other, both of them panting.

“That was…” he began.

“Long overdue,” Emma finished before she went in for another kiss. But Killian stopped her before her lips could reach his. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but for a totally different reason than it was before. She couldn’t have possibly misread the situation again.

“You don’t want me anymore,” she stated softly, pulling away from him before she could embarrass herself any further. But he wouldn’t let her out of his grip.

“On the contrary, I want you very much.” Emma bit her lip and couldn’t stop the smile that overcame her lips. “I just…” he huffed, most likely trying to find the right words to say what he wanted without offending her. “We’ve spent the last three years believing we hated each other, and I just want to make sure this isn’t a one time thing, because I never hated you, Emma.” The sound of her name, and not Swan, did things to her that she never knew just a voice could do. She gently cupped his face in her hand and gave a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

“Killian, I fully intend for this to be more than a one time thing. So please, just kiss me again?” And with that, he surged forward and gave in to her request. 

This kiss was nothing like the last one. This one was full of want, passion, and love (yes, love; Emma may have still loathed him earlier tonight, but she would be the first to admit that there was a thin line between love and hate, and it had now been crossed).

Killian started peppering her jaw with kisses, finding a particular spot right before her ear which made her moan with pure lust. “Swan,” he growled into her ear, his breath making her whole body shiver, “you can’t even imagine how long I’ve wanted to hear you make those noises because of me.” He bit down on her ear lobe, soothing it with his tongue as she made another obscene noise that in all her time with Neal she’d never heard herself make. “Do you know what it does to a man when the object of his desire is getting off by someone else in the next room with thin walls? It was absolute torture.” He moved back down her jaw, kissing her lips again before moving to the other side. 

“In all honesty, you mostly heard me faking it,” Emma laughed. She honestly never knew it could feel this good and they were only kissing.

Killian pulled away from the ear he’d been sucking on and faced her with a troubled look. “Please tell me my former prick of a roommate gave you some orgasms during your tenure together?” Emma almost laughed at the level of concern on his face, but she knew he was being serious so she held it in. 

“I mean, he gave me some,” she shrugged. “But he was the only guy I’d ever been with, so I don’t really have a lot to compare him to.” Killian looked even more insulted at that statement. 

“Swan,” Killian said, grabbing her hands. “You are a goddess and I’ll show you how you should be worshipped properly.” He punctuated this statement with another bruising kiss. 

Emma sat slack jawed at his words. Never had anyone spoken to her like Killian did. Like she was worthy of being ‘worshipped’ as he’d put it. So she just nodded in agreement. 

“Emma --”

“Killian --”

They both gave a small laugh having spoken at the same time. 

“Emma, I just want you to know that no matter what happens tonight, I want to be whatever you want us to be. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.” So much more romantic than Neal’s ‘So I wanna if you wanna,’ Emma thought.

“Are you trying to make sure I’m okay with this, Killian? Because I am. I liked you back before Neal, and I thought I’d been wrong about you being this nice guy, but I still always had a thing for you, even when we were... mortal enemies.” More laughter emanated from them. “But I want this. I really want this.” She took her free hand and moved a piece of hair that was dangling over his eye away. “And I want to explore what could’ve been if He Who Shall Not Be Named hadn’t interfered for his own selfish reasons.” They both smiled at that. Emma could see his blue eyes twinkling. She thought he was going to kiss her again, but he let go of her hand and got up off the bed and motioned for her to do the same. Emma was confused until he began turning the bed down for them to get more comfortable.

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?” she asked jokingly.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he replied back. And then he grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss. “But right now, I want to tear off this ridiculous comforter,” Killian ripped it off the bed revealing the normal looking sheets underneath, “so I can get you into that bed, tear off all your clothes, and hear you scream my name.” He growled into her ear as he tongued it. His voice went straight to her clit and she swore she might come from his voice alone. 

Killian moved her hair off her shoulder as his lips began their assault on it. Emma had never been so glad she’d chosen the off-the-shoulder top she was wearing for the party that night. She started to unbutton her blouse to move things along, but Killian swatted her hands away. 

“No, Swan. I will not have you ruining my fun by having you undress yourself. I intend to unwrap you myself. I’ve waited too long for this to be a quick fuck.” Emma shivered at his words. Never in a million years would she have thought Killian would have been a dirty talker. And she never realized that it would turn her on so much. 

His scruff was scratching her neck in the best way as his lips went back to her neck. Her hands went to the thatch of hair peeking out from the top of his shirt and Emma decided that if she wasn’t allowed to unbutton her top, she could certainly start unbuttoning his. The chest hair was something she’d always wanted to run her fingers through. With every button she opened, more and more hair was revealed. She ran her fingers through it as Killian moved back to her mouth. 

“Please, Killian,” she begged as she got to the last button on his shirt. He removed his arms from the sleeves while still keeping his lips on hers, although she could feel him smile as she begged. He continued to unbutton her blouse with his deft fingers and discarded her shirt onto the floor.

“Better?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in the sexiest way she’d ever seen. 

“Not even close,” she panted. The black, strapless lace bra she was wearing felt too constricting, and as much as Killian had wanted to ‘unwrap’ her himself, she reached behind her back to unhook the offending material. The eyebrow raised again as he stepped back to see what she had done, but then his eyes widened when he saw what was underneath her bra.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Emma,” Killian whispered in awe and before she could say anything back, he started kissing her again. This time, Emma pulled him down onto the bed with her. They found a comfortable position with her on her back and him between her thighs. His lips seemed to be everywhere: lips, jaw, neck, collarbone. He was kissing a path down to her breasts and she was rubbing her jeans against the large bulge she could feel through his.

“Someone is impatient,” he smirked into the top of her breast before his teeth clamped down over her nipple.

“Fuck, Killian!” she said as he immediately laved his tongue over the now peaked nipple. The smirk returned.

“All in good time.” He moved over to the other nipple and repeated the same movements with his teeth and tongue. Emma had never felt these feelings before. Neal had barely done any foreplay, and Emma, having not been that experienced, just figured that was normal. Now she was mentally berating herself for missing out on this the past few years. But she needed to stop thinking about Neal when she had Killian’s mouth heading south. His tongue dipped into her navel and Emma swore she was going to come before he even got her jeans off. She never knew someone’s tongue could feel that erotic on her skin.

“Is this okay?” Killian asked as his fingers came up to the button on her jeans. Emma could only nod, her mouth not seeming to work. He popped the button and Emma lifted up her ass so Killian could slide her jeans and underwear down (just plain cotton which she was highly regretting right now; at least she’d had the forethought to shave before the party). He continued to kiss down her body as her jeans slid off, leaving her completely nude. For the first time that night, Emma began to feel self conscious about the position she was in. She and Killian had hated each other up until an hour ago, was it really prudent of her to sleep with him already? Maybe they should slow things down. She was just about to voice this when his tongue made contact with her clit and all rational thought went out the window.

“Oh, God!” she screamed and her hands involuntarily went to his lucious, brown locks and pulled him even closer.

“Killian will do,” he said, smiling into her. “So wet for me, Swan.” He began licking her like a man possessed and Emma had never been this crazed from oral sex in her life. She was pretty much fucking his face and Killian seemed to be enjoying it. He sucked her clit between his lips and Emma knew she was so close. Killian took his pointer and middle fingers and slipped them into her wet heat, thrusting them back and forth until he finally found the spot that would make her come undone. “Come for me, Swan,” he growled in a commanding tone. He gave one final suck and her body exploded. 

Emma knew she was mumbling nonsensical words as Killian continued to lick and pump his fingers more slowly now, bringing her down from her high. Never in all her life, not by her own hand or any other boy’s (because that’s what they all were, boys) had she ever had an orgasm so strong. Emma was vaguely aware that Killian was now kissing back up her body: a small nip to her hip, his tongue licking a stripe up the side of her stomach, his teeth grazing the side of her breast. His hand was still in between her legs easing her down from her intense orgasm.

“Oh my fucking God, Killian!” she panted out, her heart still beating frantically in her chest.

“Sounds like you enjoyed that.” He smirked. That smirk always used to annoy her, but now it was the sexiest thing Emma had ever seen. She grabbed Killian by the hair and crashed her lips onto his. She could taste her essence on his lips and it was intoxicating. Emma never thought she would be turned on by that. She was learning a lot about herself tonight. Like the fact that she was completely nude and Killian was still half dressed.

“Lose the pants, Killian.” She’d found her way to the tip of his pointed ear. Another thing she’d always found annoying about him and now she found hot as fuck.

“As the lady wishes.” He stood up and began to unbutton his pants as Emma started stroking his chest hair. He was wearing a pair of black boxer briefs underneath that did nothing to hide his erection and for the first time, Emma realized that all the sexual innuendos he’d dropped over the years were not because he was compensating for something. He could really back up everything.

“Fuck, Killian!” Emma breathed out as he pulled his boxer briefs down to meet his pants that were at his knees. Emma knelt down to pull them off the rest of the way, Killian watching her intensely, and found herself eye to ….cock. He was so much bigger than Neal, and it was nicer looking, what with the manscaping he’d obviously done. Neal had just been a hairy mess. But Killian, well, Emma never thought she’d describe a man’s penis as beautiful, but that’s what this was. She gently brushed her thumb over the tip, a hiss emanating from Killian’s lips as he sat back on the bed. She wrapped her small hand around it and looked up at him. “Is this okay?” She echoed back his words from before, and just as she had, he nodded, too much in awe that this was actually happening.

Emma pumped him up and down slowly, her thumb grazing the tip each time. His shaft was velvety smooth under her touch. She was gearing herself up to lick him; it was not something she had particularly enjoyed doing for Neal. Killian must have sensed her hesitation because the next thing she knew, he was hauling her up into his lap. She immediately became wetter the moment his cock rubbed against her already damp folds.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.” He brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear before kissing her again. “Besides, if you put your mouth on me, I’d probably finish there and I want to feel you around me.” Emma could feel her cheeks redden, but then started rubbing herself against him. The noise Killian made was probably the most amazing noise she’d ever heard and she doubled her efforts rubbing against him just to hear him make it again.

“One moment,” he said, maneuvering himself to grab his pants. He quickly pulled out his wallet and grabbed the foil-wrapped condom from inside, then deposited his wallet back in his pants before dropping them back on the floor. Emma was busy giving sloppy kisses along the column of his neck when she heard the foil rip, and she lifted up slightly so his cock stood in between them looking red and angry. Emma had never seen an erection look so hard. She plucked the condom from his hand and pulled it down herself (and honestly, she never thought putting a condom on could be so damn sexy).

“Ready, Swan?” he asked. Emma didn’t even give a verbal answer. She grabbed his cock, lifted herself over it, and slowly sank down on him, adjusting to his length and girth.

“Fuck!” she moaned when he was finally seated completely within her. Killian kissed her passionately, his tongue plunging into the depth of her mouth and tangling with hers. She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, and she could swear she felt him get even harder inside her.

“You need to move, Swan,” he bit out. Emma lifted herself up, and slammed back down on him. God, she’d never felt so full in her life. She never wanted this feeling to end. She continued to fuck herself on him, her hands on his shoulders to lift herself up higher, his hands under her ass to do the same. She’d never fucked anyone like this before. Neal had always insisted on missionary style, which Emma was now realizing was probably the only way he could get off. This position felt fucking amazing and she was pissed at herself for never trying it before. But she needed something more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as his hand moved from her ass to in between them and made contact with her clit. That was exactly what she needed. He continued to rub it as hard as he could. It was too much, yet not enough. She was almost there.

“Let go, Emma. I promise I’ll catch you.” And that was all it took. Emma lifted up off him completely and had the most fucking intense orgasm she’d ever had in her life. Even more powerful than the one he’d brought her to before. Everything seemed to go black and then next thing she knew, Killian had turned them over so she was on her back and he thrust himself back inside her. 

Emma didn’t even get to contemplate how fast he’d changed their position when another orgasm rocked her due to the angle of his cock inside her and a well placed thumb on her already swollen clit. “Killian!” she screamed, her voice starting to feel hoarse from all the screaming she’d been doing. He rode her out until she finally felt him still and he grunted, emptying himself into the condom.

Killian collapsed on top of her. He was heavy, but Emma decided she didn’t really mind. She liked the way he felt. With Neal, she’d just wanted him off of her right away, mainly because he’d fall asleep almost instantaneously and then she’d be trapped beneath him. Almost as if he was reading her mind, Killian rolled off of her. Emma immediately missed the warmth of him, but he quickly took off the condom, wrapped it in some tissues from the box on the nightstand, and threw it away in the garbage can. Then he pulled her into him so their foreheads were touching, and Emma thought it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her after sex. She kissed him, a short and sweet kiss, just to let him know that this wasn’t just sex. She hoped that it conveyed what she was too afraid to say. But then, she decided to say it anyway.

“Killian,” she began, “would you like to go out on a date...or something?” she mumbled, her confidence waning after she mentioned the word date.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?” Killian teased as a wide smile graced his handsome face. She blushed. After everything they’d just done and she blushed when he teased her. She had it bad. “Yes, Emma, I would be honored to go out with you. But please let me plan the date,” he said earnestly. How could she resist when he had the puppy dog face going. She kissed him in agreement.

“And now, love,” he said hesitantly, “I think you and I should get out of this bed, considering it doesn’t belong to either of us. And who knows how many other people have used this bed for this exact same purpose.” That made Emma jump up almost immediately. God, she hoped whoever's house this was they washed the sheets before they’d made the bed.

They quickly got their clothes back on (and Emma didn’t even want to think about the mess her hair probably was), and Emma pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans that had been discarded, noticing there were a few text messages from Ruby.

“Shit! Ruby’s been trying to get a hold of me. She wanted to leave half an hour ago.” She frantically started texting Ruby to tell her where she was, but Killian took the phone from her hand and deleted the text.

“Tell her you’ve gone home with someone and you’ll see her in the morning.” Emma looked at him quizzically.

“Am I going home with someone?” Killian’s cheeks went red all the way to the tips of his elfin ears and his hand went to the back of his neck.

“Only if the lady would like to.”

Emma debated making him even more nervous, but couldn’t contain herself. “The lady would like to, Killian,” she said, giving a small smile. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles and Emma thought she might melt on the spot. How could she have ever hated him? Oh right, her jerk ex. She quickly sent a text off to Ruby.

He unlocked the door and they stepped out into the, thankfully, empty hallway. They could still hear the party going on downstairs, and lots of moaning coming from the other rooms in the hall. They both gave each other slightly embarrassed grins.

“Come, love, let’s take this somewhere more private,” Killian said smugly; Emma nodded in agreement and they headed down the stairs… and ran smack into Neal.

He looked, if Emma was being honest, like crap. His hair was disheveled, and not in the way Killian’s was looking because of her pulling on it during sex, and there were bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping. 

“Emma!” Neal said, his face lighting up. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you.”

“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual,” Emma snapped. The euphoria she had just experienced with Killian was quickly fading into revulsion. She gave Killian’s fingers a quick squeeze so he knew she was not going to let Neal ruin their night. He gave her a squeeze back in understanding.

“Oh, come on Ems, don’t be like that,” he said, flashing that grin that always used to make her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to vomit. What the hell did she ever see in him? Had she really been that desperate to be loved? Neal reached out to grab her hand and Emma could see the confusion when he realized one hand was occupied, and then the look of realization when he finally noticed Killian standing beside her.

“What the hell is this?” Neal asked angrily, like he had any reason to be angry. “You making a move on my girl, man? I thought we were friends!” Emma actually burst out laughing at that remark. Both Neal and Killian looked at her bewildered.

“First off, Neal,” she said, giving him a fierce push against his chest, her laughter giving way to irritation, “I’m no longer your girl. I haven’t been your girl in six months. And,” she gave him another push, “you were cheating on me for half of our relationship, so I really haven’t been your girl in a long time.”

“Ems, I can explain…”

“No, you can’t explain, Neal. And even if you could, I don’t want to hear it. And as for Killian being your friend,” she gave a glance to Killian and gave him a huge smile before returning her look toward Neal, “friends don’t steal the girl their other friend is interested in and then lie to both of them about it for years.” Another push. Neal’s face went practically white. “Yeah, we figured some things out tonight about the night we met.” She scowled at him to let him know that she meant business.

“I..” But Emma was done with this.

“I don’t want to hear it, Neal.” And with that, she walked past Neal, her hand in Killian’s to really make her point that she was no longer his.

“Your loss, mate,” Killian said with a smirk and gave a salute as Emma pulled him along. They ran out the front door into the cool spring air. When they made it to Killian’s car (a Chevelle that Emma remembered he rebuilt himself) they stopped to catch their breath. Emma could feel Killian’s eyes on her, silently watching her to see her reaction. 

“Emma, I’d understand if we’ve moved too fast and you want to slow things down,” Killian said quickly. It’s as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t say it fast enough, she’ll say something to end what has barely begun between them. Emma gets it. She walked over to him. He’s busily looking anywhere but at her, while scratching that spot behind his ear. It’s utterly adorable.

“Killian?” She’s standing directly in front of him and the surprise look on his face when he finally does look at her is priceless. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. And I definitely don’t want to slow things down.” And with that declaration, she grabbed his face, pulled his lips to hers, and kissed him with everything she had in her. It took Killian a moment to catch up with her, his lips finally kissing hers back after a slight gasp of surprise into her mouth that made her smile, almost giggle even. 

They finally separated and got into Killian’s car, both of them quietly contemplating, with anticipation, what the future held for them as they drove silently back to his apartment.

 In the morning, Emma expected to feel the urge to run, to feel they moved too fast. But she doesn’t feel any of that. He pulled her in tight in his half asleep state, making her feel safe as she cuddled into his chest, and Emma wondered how she ever could have hated him the way she thought she did.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones  @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx  @qualitycoffeethings @snowbellewells @courtorderedcake @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @deckerstarblanche @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @wefoundloveunderthelight @earanemith

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[muffindaddystyles]

Okay but vamp!harry x reader where the reader goes for a late night walk alone because she’s feeling anxious (Harry tries to insist on coming with but she says no) but soon he can sense somethings wrong and goes to look for her and finds her in a dangerous situation! I need protective vampire Harry 🥺

Disclaimer: Reader with ADHD, Vampire!H x fem!reader, cock warming.

Harry's been doing humanly things. Moreso trying for his little human whom he doesn't want to dissapoint when she's making ećlairs or pop tarts for him and all he knows is to eat them despite of being a helping hand. His fingers are magical —--- they relax her in the most livid way while he's feeding from her. Honestly, it's all she wants. Her making sweets for him and him pleasuring her in the most bizarre way.

But. Sometimes she get's emotionally exhausted that the physical activities looks like breaking a mountain for her and all she does is snuggle under the snoozy layers of her childhood blankets cuddling her cat to calm her down.

Now her tranquility is Harry.

It's one of those days. She's been feeling like a failure. An utter dimwit for not getting what's happening in her sociology class, why her neighbours are always grumpy with her and why she isn't able to study anything. It's depressing her.

Harry never left her side. She's like a honey gooed all over him not even letting him bring the pizzas he ordered for them, "Don't!" She squeaks in a weak voice catching his wrists and he sits back cupping the nape of her neck looking straight in her eyes to assure her with his whole existence, "'ey baby . . my sweet girl 'm not goin' anywhere. Delivery boy's been waiting outside -- just a mo', yeah?" He sponges a gentle kiss at her temple stroking her cheek to calm her down.

They've rented a VR receiver and alot of silver movies watching them while eating pizza. She giggles and Harry smiles goofily when he had to hit the receiver twice to make it work, "c'mon you should know how all of this work old man." He strides towards her pulling her up with armpits into his embrace and tickling hard.

"Old man huh!? Ol' ma —" He pretends to eat her whole and she squeals between her laughs, "'m sorry you're my man!" Huffs smugly giving her a breather and pecks her not twice but thrice. If he could kiss her all day. He would. She's his human. It surprises him sometimes when he's alone with his thoughts. He loves her to fucking bits and pieces.

When she's like this everyone and everything feels outta her reach. As if they're miles away from her and she's standing in barren cold. In the amidst of sappy movie she shrinks closer to him stuffing her face into his ribs wounding her leg around his abdomen and he makes her feel warm wrapping his arms around her to push her up on his thigh. Snapping his gaze down at her when the lil sniffs of her reached his ears, "What's wrong kitten . . . hurts to see ya like this baby. Love you so much." He never fails to promise that he loves her to core.

"'M jus . . . thinking tha –-- that when I'll die you'll be still here 'n . . . 'n y'would get so lonely." She hiccups without a break, "Dunno. Can't stop crying 'm sorry." She gives out an ugly sob into his chest. It's breaking his already feeble heart. God he could scream the affection to the moon he have for this girl. In such a tragic moment all she is thinking is about him.

He cups squishes both her cheeks with his calloused palms telling her to breath with slow gestures then when she's way better speaks in his softest voice, "My baby listen to me hmm? We're never thinking of future don't wan'ye to wreck ye'r beautiful brain for stupid deaths --- secondly too bad miss Y/N 'm gonna cling to ye like leech of your nightmares." He wipes her tears away ever so caringly and gives her eskimo kisses while she giggles snorting at the end when Harry brought his big goldfish orbs in the middle to make her laugh.

"'M glad to have you." She whispers smudging her wet lips softly against his's into a heart melting blood warming kiss and Harry shushes her when she whines clutching the hem of his sweater, "bite me? She asks politely rather than being batty as for she was being within past days rilling him upto extreme to get her neck and skin sprinkled with hickeys that turns into bites.

"Don't wanna hurt ye', lovie." He pushes her hair away peering down at her with pleading worried eyes, "you wouldn't. promise." He nods flushing her against his chest positioning her head into the crook of his neck. Making her hug him like a koala bear.

Rubs her back. Pats her hair. Sways her along him rather than the seductive warnings he used to give her. He's afraid. She's too fragile at the moment. He'd never forgive himself if something will happen to her, "'m gonna bite. Stop me if ye' don't want it o' hurts." He runs his palms at her sides making her all squirmy.

He pushes her fangs ever so gently to her sweet spot. If she's made of glass making her moan and tight her grip around him warming up his cock in his trousers. It's not always about you dumber. He scolds himself. Suckling lightly and pulling back in a pinch of moment. It's the first time he has almost pretended to drink from her. She's all sleepy in his hold. He carries her to bed and when tries to untangle himself so he could turn the telly off she whines not letting him.

Despite of these much blankets she's still feeling cold. From inside. It feels empty and she isn't liking it at all. Writhes and squirms causing Harry to ask, "ye okay there lovie'?" When she shakes her head with glassy eyes and a pout he understands.

"Cold." Is all she had to say and he's guessing the next, "in ye'r tummy?" When she bobs her head confirming he sighs softly pulling the elastic of his trousers down to free his dick getting rid of the item woving his calves with her, thighs between thighs and places a firm hand on her back moving his thumb into circles non-stop.

"Oh me lil dovlin' c'mere . . want me cock to warm ye up baby? 'S okay s' okay darlin'." He murmurs against her lips tugging at his foreskin hissing when the head of his thick cock gets pushed between their bellys due to approximty. Precome oozes from his strokes and he takes her panties off swiping his crown over her hole to lubricate her. Wounds his arm around the nape of her neck to lap at her mouth swallowing her whines and cries while sliding inside her compact walls twisting his stomach awfully, "shhh. shhh baby love. I got ya. Gonna take care of ye ---- try to sleep. I'll be waiting fo' ye in the morning." Once, situating himself deep and snug inside her. He keeps on embracing her like a little baby.

Next morning though she woke up happy. Harry made her brekkie. Special smiley pancakes with heart shaped eyes from the little strawberry toppings. He really took advantage of his time while she was snoring her ass off. A peach smoothie and cashewnuts. Fed Meowsie. Gave her his morning lovin'. They had the meal together.

He helped her learn some of her course. Then in afternoon made lunch together egg fried rice and stirred vegetables Y/N went to give some of it to their neighbours. Lady Nat asked her if she's okay cause she has stopped stomping in her flat and it made her feel good, weirdly.

//

Maybe it's seasonal sadness that she couldn't get out of it. Harry's in the kitchen cleaning up shelves when he hears the rustle of carpet. He peeks from the wall to find her pooling into a big hoodie and slipping into her shoes. He frowns throwing the rag away to walk towards her immediately, "where ye' goin' lovie? Ye' okay what happened?" He runs his hands over her shoulders to her hair making her meet his eyes.

She nods squeezing his wrists, "don't worry just wanna . . . take a walk — clear my head." Hearing this he quickly moves to wear his jacket.

"'M goin' with you." He declares and she knows if that'll happen she wouldn't be able to, "No. Alone." She fumbles with the strings of her hoodie. He sighs not fond of the idea brows knighting together thumbing at her jaw with concern screaming in his eyes.

"Can I mark you then?" He asks knowing what hides in the shadows of outside; creatures evil than his entire existence. He doesn't want to make her feel like she owes him explanations for her each and every movement but gosh does it scare him to his bones. She's the only person who could make him weak into knees and a mesh of puddle at the thought of even the thorn pricking her, "okie." She cranes her neck and it still amuses him she's exactly how she was when he first met her. That gentle rose under the moon meant for Harry to care and water with love.

After adorning her with a crimson mark and little peck he tugs her closer hooking his nose to her hair taking a good sniff of her cocoa scent, "keep your phone in ye' hand and don't walk through the cherry street." There's nothing there but stray dogs that she's afraid of. It's better he advises her.

"Ai. Ai captain!" She salutes him stomping her feet and he chuckles kissing her cheek wet-ly, "Go before I change me mind."

//

He wanted it not to creep it to his mind but it's not helping AT ALL. He's been restless and it's been fifteen minutes since she has left. He's sitting sunk into sofa with Meowsie snuggled under his chin while he shakes his knees, cracks his knuckles, combs his hair and groans into his palms. In short throwing tantrum like a toddler missing her already and constantly worrying about her. Something doesn't feel right at all. That gut wrenching horror of losing her biting him alive.

He mutters a fuck it going to look for her and bring her back home. He was right. He has always been. Good at instincts. For fuck's sake. He's a vampire!

Y/N was walking along the path which's the lead way to a park when a dark vibe gloomed over her head. The next she knows is she's being pinned to a wall with demonic eyes snatching at her soul: it takes her breath away outta horror.

"No wonder why Harry kisses the earth you walk on." He chuckles darkly accent an old Scottish and she gulps eyes stinging with tears, "I would to . . if I get to drink such sweet ripe blood." Her eyes widens when his fangs pokes out from his gums glistening under the lamp light.

She tries to kick him in balls to get rid of his painful grip when an angry growl echoes towards them loudly and the person who had her trapped wooshes from her sight in a bolt to ground making her shriek.

"She's not a fuckin' feeder stay the fuck away from her!!" Harry grits spitting venom. Choking the person under him, "tol' ya she's my girl and I'll shred everyone alive if they'll even breath in her direction." She has never seen him this furious. Tone harsh and snappy she never heard coming from him it makes her cry.

He had warned his fellows when the news of him spread that he has bonded to human. But well they've thick skulls.

The man under him just smirks pushing him away and coughing into his elbow standing up. "Whatever thought sharing is caring, Styles." Harry glares him resentfully. Fisting a punch at his side but stables himself when a dainty hand wraps around his fingers clutching tight.

He turns ducking down to her level cupping her cheeks and tries to examine her for any kind of injury, "ye' okay? Did he hurt you? Tell me and — " she rubs her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie shaking her head vigorously.

"No. 'M fine sorry should've listened to you." He puffs out a breath of guilt letting his forehead fall against her's, "don't be sorry -- it's none of ye'r fault baby."

"Glad you're safe." He whispers hugging her with the sway of bodies, "I love you." She tells him honestly tip-toeing to kiss him and it unfortunately reaches his silky jaw only.

"And all the things you do for me." He grins down at her. He lives on praises. The cheeky bastard.

"How about eatin' ice-cream while taking swings in the park?" He intertwines their hands warmly kissing her knuckles and she quips excitedly, "sounds great!"

.

AN: idk why read more button isn't working sorry for the bug.