#thoughts are with those who have been let go. it's not a nice thing to experience
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daemonbrain · 2 days ago
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a/n: Shamelessly inspired by the fact I hit a curb, ran a stop sign, and almost hit a mailbox within 5 minutes of each other. So I present to you Graves x reader who can't drive! Feel free to drop a comment 🫶
Phillip Graves who loves exactly three things: His shadows, his truck, and his girl.
The downside? He has to keep the three things as far from each other as possible.
He would be damned if he let his pretty girlfriend know about all the questionable things he did for work. All you needed to know was he handled things, brought home the bread, and came crawling right on back as soon as he could.
But as he sat in the passenger seat of his F-150, he knew damn well he'd tell you every shady dealing or national secret him and his shadows have ever learnt to get you the hell away from the wheel.
He thought it was a joke when you hopped into the drivers seat! You had booked a reservation for some sushi place you liked and he had taken a little too long to get ready, only hurrying down when he heard the yell of his name.
"I'm comin', i'm going!" He mumbled.
You stood ready by the door with a smile. You dangled his keys in front of your face and to be entirely honest Phill didn't pay attention to a word you said.
How could he? Your hair all done up, a nice pair of heels, and a dress he's never seen before but is sure that it's somewhere on his bank statement. Too much time staring at your moving mouth, not enough time on it.
Interrupting you mid-sentance, he pulls you in for a gentle kiss. When your hands went to caress the stubble on his cheek, he responded with a groan and a bite on your lower lip, feeling his heart beat with fondness for the lovely lady in front of him.
Pulling away only a fraction, you look up at him with those eyes he could never resist.
"Is that a yes then?" You said, excitement clear in your tone.
Leaning back in, he presses his mouth to yours again. After a moment he digs his fingers to your waist, causing you to swat at his arm.
"Earth to Phill?! Yes or no?" You repeated. Groaning, he rolled his eyes and reluctantly separated from your body.
"Whatever you want sweetheart."
Which is how he finds himself in this precarious position. It was no ones fault but his own and now he was gonna pay big time. You had hopped right into the drivers seat leaving your dumbfounded partner to connect the dots on his own.
He should have objected thinking back, he really really should have. Commander Phillip Graves who has been around the globe, shot at, and knocked around more times than he can count did not want to deal with the fallback of wrangling you out of there.
When you reached your hand out to switch the gear, instead of holding the break like you should've, the loud sound of the engine revving blasted in his ears as you pressed the accelerator. You jolted in your seat, instinctually grabbing his forearm.
"Baby! You hit the gas."
Upon seeing his widened eyes, you couldn't help but chuckle. Laughing it off, you apologize and start up the truck.
At least that incident was stationary. It got so much worse.
"Shit, that was a trashcan."
"Phill turn up the music. That ambulance siren is distracting me."
"Did I just roll that stop sign?"
He was gonna die in this metal box. The two things he loved most were going to kill him. Phillip Graves death by bomb? No, Phillip Graves death by his wonderful girlfriends horrible driving.
In fact, he'd probably have a better chance if he had been in that tank than with you.
"Hon you're uh- this is a 35 zone and you're goin' 58."
You made a pfft sound and waved him off. Gosh he really wished you kept both of your hands tight on that wheel at this speed (at any speed really).
"Those things are like suggestions. This could totally be like a 45." You said.
"You'd still be- oomph!" Phillip was interrupted by his body being jerked against his seatbelt. Without a moments delay, his arm shot across your chest to keep you firmly pressed to the back of the seat.
Without a second of acknowledgment you slap the steering wheel with a scoff.
"Come on, that was bullshit! Hardly enough time to stop." You complained while staring at the shine of the red traffic light.
"Well maybe if you-"
Nope. Not gonna do that. He didn't even have a chance to raise his voice a note higher before you were glowering his way. No thank you ma'am.
"Nothin'. You're right. Bullshit."
He would hide the keys away from you from now on. He'd dig through your purse when you went to the washroom and snatch them up before you'd even have the chance to ask to drive home.
If Phill was gonna die any other way than old age amongst the horde of kids and grand-babies y'all would have together one day, it was not gonna be because you flung him into a fuckin' electrical pole.
Suddenly, the truck began to move faster...
and faster...
The moment he heard your squeal, his heart dropped to his stomach.
"Phill! Phill my heel is stuck-" The panic in your voice was palpable, the sight of cars in the distance coming closer in view by the second. Tears had begun to gather at your lash line in alarm.
With the reflexes as a man with his own PMC, his unclicks his seatbelt and practically flings himself over the console. Grabbing your foot, he jiggles it from the wedge it trapped itself and pushed on to the break you had made no attempt to use.
Another hard stop, but one made just in time before any collision could take place. Snapping out of your stupor, you allow the truck to slowly roll for a moment while a red faced Phillip looked at you with fury that knew no bounds.
"Pull over."
With a grimace, you attempted to reply. Only to have Phill grab the wheel and fully turn you to the side of the road, signaling and all.
Clicking on the emergency lights as he opens, exits, and closes his door while you still reeled from your miiiiinor incident.
Opening your door, his stern expression warranted no argument as he held a hand out to help you down.
"Out right now. No buts or nothin'."
Hastily complying, you slip your palm into his and scampered to the passenger seat.
After you buckled your seatbelt in and Phill had time to huff and rejoin the road, he uses his free hand to grab on to yours and press a tender kiss to your knuckles while keeping his blue eyes stubbornly fixed forward.
Safe to say you let him play his own music this time.
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seitmai · 2 days ago
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Ahh many thoughts
You surreptitiously suck in a breath and school your face to remain completely and utterly professional. But your chest bursts into a triumphant fire at the judge’s verdict.
I could not hold it in like that lmao
Sarah gives you a nod, and then she’s approached by the brother of your client - whose been trying to hold back his clear crush on your paralegal until the case was over, and you’re happy to see him shoot his shot. He’s a sweet kid, just about her age, and she’s had terrible luck in the romance department. This could be a path out of the woods for her of those post-grad men who still desperately tried to cling to their frat boy glory.
Good Luck Sarah 🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Now, now. We're professionals here. We don't gloat." "Speak for yourself," Sarah quips, earning a round of laughter from the table.
Valid 🤷🏻‍♀️
The victory feels sweeter shared with these people who helped you prepare for the case and who understand the long hours and emotional toll of the job.
Oh I 100% agree!
Your eyebrows shoot up. "The Donovan case? Andy, that's not even your case. It's being handled by the DA's office." He nods, pacing the room. "I know, I know. But I've been looking into it, and something's not right. The evidence doesn't add up."
Uhh👀
“Someone with too much money, too much power, and too much influence is somehow pulling strings to pin this the way they want. You can help me identify the right players. But, what’s more, you have the necessary clout and influence in this town to go to the DA and be taken seriously, and I don’t have that yet.” “It’s eating you up to admit that, isn’t it?” you finally say. He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it does. Satisfied?”
Yes absolutely and it feels food to hear it 😌
A muscle in his jaw ticks. He licks his lips. “Do you think it’s possible that the cases I’m losing now are for the defendants that should be put behind bars, the ones I have no guilt taking money from, and that I’m just that good that they never question that I’m making sure they get what they deserve?”
I can respect that
"Okay," you say slowly, "I'll listen. But I need to know everything. No holding back, no surprises later. If we're going to do this, we do it right." Relief washes over Andy's face. He nods vigorously. "Of course. Everything I have, it's all yours."
🤝🏻
Andy appears at your side, and you turn slightly to look at him. “Why are we in a hotel room discussing this? Secrecy? If you’re that worried, it won’t be hard to track you here.” “I…” he laughs. “No, actually. It’s worse than that.” “Oh, Andy,” your voice is wary, “don’t tell me you live here.”
At least it's a nice hotel, could be worse 🤷🏻‍♀️
“I didn’t know this was where you landed,” he says, “but when I got here and heard you were one of the top lawyers in this town, I felt a mix of curiosity and pride and... something else." His voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I thought about reaching out, but..." You turn to face him fully, your breath catching slightly at his proximity. "But what?"Andy's eyes search yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "But I was ashamed. Of how things ended between us in law school. Of how my life had fallen apart. I didn't want you to see me like that, but I didn’t want to run away and start my new chapter making a cowardly choice by picking some place else."
🥺🥺🥺
"I know this isn’t the right time," Andy starts, his voice low and husky, "but I can't ignore this anymore." Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. For a moment, you're too stunned to react. But then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor, years of unresolved tension pouring out.
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"We were too busy hating each other back at law school, but I've thought about this for years," he murmurs. "About you." “You hated me?” you ask. “No,” he admits. “Me either,” you say truthfully.
Well glad that that finally got resolved 😅
Gently, he turns you back to face him, and then in one fluid motion, Andy lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress. Andy kneels above you for a moment, pausing, his eyes roaming your body with undisguised desire. He’s already taken you once, so it’s no surprise, but his gaze is overwhelmingly intense, almost reverent, as if he's committing every curve and freckle to memory. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
😮‍💨🥰😮‍💨🥰
You run your fingers through his hair, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. There's an intimacy to this moment that surprises you - it's not just about physical pleasure, but a connection that feels deeper, more meaningful. Unexplored potential from years before spilling into reality now.
It waited all these years together be explored
Andy's hands knead the muscles of your shoulders, working out knots you didn't even realize were there. His touch is firm but gentle, alternating between deep pressure and feather-light caresses. You feel yourself melting into the mattress, tension draining from your body.
I need a massage like that too💆🏻‍♀️
You nod, acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. "The case..." "Is still our priority," Andy finishes for you. "We can't let this distract us from what's at stake."
Let's keep our heads in the game
You sit up slowly, the sheet pooling around your waist. Andy's eyes roam your body appreciatively before meeting your gaze again. "But I don't regret it," he says firmly. "Do you?" You consider for a moment, then shake your head. "No, I don't. But we need to be careful." You nod, leaning into his touch. "And when we're not working?" A slow smile spreads across Andy's face. "When we're not working, we can explore... this." He gestures between you two.
I can work with that 😌
You hesitate, knowing you should probably leave, maintain some distance. But the thought of curling up in Andy's arms is too appealing when he’s so willing.
No way I would say no to a cuddle invitation like that
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Happy Friday, Aspen!
Legal Temptations
Characters/Pairings: Andy Barber x curvy Millennial female!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After battling with Andy Barber in the courtroom, your relationship takes a turn when you receive an unexpected message from your rival requesting a secretive meeting to discuss a high-profile murder case. Intrigued but cautious, you can't turn down the invitation from Newton's former Assistant District Attorney and your former law school rival.
Content/Warnings: explicit smut: vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), ; mild exhibitionism (sex in front of a window), first time anal play/rimming; dirty talk; a lot of plot BEFORE we get to the smut
Notes: Sorry it's not Friday, Jen, and sorry this has also sat in my inbox for months! I kept on wanting to do something new with Andy and wanting to post it on a Friday, but things kept on getting away from me. Now I'm just posting and to hell with previous intentions, hahaha. But kicking off my series of Valentine Storygrams seemed like a good time to trot him out!
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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“I find the defendant guilty as charged.”
You surreptitiously suck in a breath and school your face to remain completely and utterly professional.
But your chest bursts into a triumphant fire at the judge’s verdict.
You’ve won, yet again, against Andy Barber. And rightly so. Your client was the victim, plain and simple. But it’s the third time in three months.
And it feels damn good to know you did.
As the courtroom erupts into a flurry of murmurs and movement, you gather your papers with practiced efficiency, sliding them into your briefcase. You avoid looking at the defense table.
The judge's gavel cracks through the air. "Court is adjourned."
You rise, buttoning your blazer with one smooth motion. Only then do you allow yourself a brief glance at your opponent. Andy's jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense as he leans in to whisper something to his client. A twinge of sympathy flickers through you - you know all too well the sting of defeat. But you still can't help savoring this moment, this victory. It's not just about winning – it's about justice served, about protecting the innocent and punishing the guilty.
As you stride towards the exit, your heels clicking authoritatively on the polished floor, a hand catches your elbow. You turn to find Sarah, your paralegal, grinning widely.
"Drinks to celebrate?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with shared victory.
You nod, allowing a small smile to curve your lips. "Absolutely. The usual place in an hour?"
Sarah gives you a nod, and then she’s approached by the brother of your client - whose been trying to hold back his clear crush on your paralegal until the case was over, and you’re happy to see him shoot his shot. He’s a sweet kid, just about her age, and she’s had terrible luck in the romance department. This could be a path out of the woods for her of those post-grad men who still desperately tried to cling to their frat boy glory.
You make your way out of the courtroom, nodding politely to colleagues and spectators. In the hallway, a reporter approaches, microphone extended.
"Counselor, another impressive win. Any comments on the verdict?"
You pause, choosing your words carefully. "We’re obviously pleased with the verdict. That's all I'll say for now. Any further comments will come through official channels." You offer a polite but firm smile, sidestepping the reporter with practiced ease.
As you’re about to get into your car, you look back at the courthouse and spot Andy Barber exiting the building, his face masking frustration and defeat. For a moment, your eyes lock. There's a flash of something—respect, perhaps, or resignation—before he turns away, striding purposefully towards the parking lot.
You shake off the encounter and settle into your car. Between the drive home to change into something more casual and then the drive to your usual celebratory spot, you’re able to decompress, shed the courtroom persona, and remember who you are outside of the high-stakes world of criminal law.
By the time you push open the door of O'Malley's, your favorite low-key bar, you're feeling more like yourself. Sarah is already there. She’s landed you a good corner booth, and two of the other paralegals from your office and your assistant are there, too.
As you slide into the booth, Sarah pushes a glass of your favorite scotch towards you. "To justice," she says, raising her own glass in a toast.
"To justice," you echo, clinking glasses with the group. The warm burn of the liquor is a welcome sensation after the tension of the day in court.
Your assistant, Mark, leans in eagerly. "So, boss, give us the details. How did Barber's face look when the verdict came down?"
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Now, now. We're professionals here. We don't gloat."
"Speak for yourself," Sarah quips, earning a round of laughter from the table.
As the conversation flows, the weight of the case finally lifting from your shoulders. Sarah’s receiving and responding to a few texts, apparently having agreed to give her number to the client’s brother. The victory feels sweeter shared with these people who helped you prepare for the case and who understand the long hours and emotional toll of the job.
Sarah leans in, her voice lowered conspiratorially. "So, what's next? Rumor has it the DA's office is eyeing you for a big case."
You take a sip of your drink, considering. "Nothing's confirmed yet, but there have been some interesting conversations. We'll see."
Just then, it’s your phone that buzzes. Glancing down, you see a text from an unknown number:
Congratulations on the win. We need to talk. Meet me at hotel bar at Clark’s, 10 PM tonight. Come alone. -AB
Your brow furrows. AB. Andy Barber. What could he possibly want? And why the secrecy?
You don’t respond right away. It’s only just past eight. You have time to consider the situation.
But ultimately, your curiosity wins out, and around nine, you make your excuses and leave your staff at O’Malley’s.
On your way to Clark’s, your wheels turn over the enigma that is Andy Barber.
He showed up in town almost six months ago, relocated from Massachusetts where he’d been the assistant district attorney before his son had been accused of murder. You had followed the tragic unfolding of events - the family ostracized from their community, brief reprieve when Jacob had been cleared, and then the tragic accident where his son and his wife ended up in critical condition. Jacob passed away, never coming out of his coma, and though Laurie recovered, a year later, their marriage never did, and they divorced in a fairly civil proceeding.
You had really felt for him initially.
But once you started coming up against him in the court room, you were reminded why you had hated him all through law school. He was always good at what he did, and he was smug about it. The two of you had competed for everything. Top spot of each class, the most competitive internships, nearly coming out even, but he edged you out for valedictorian of your graduating class, leaving you as salutatorian.
He’d gone public defender, and you’d moved back to your home state and gone into private practice, and you really hadn’t thought of him again until he made the news - because the son of an ADA being hit with murder charges made the national news circuit.
But back at law school, he’d gotten under your skin, and as much as you tried to ignore it now, he was doing it again.
You arrive at Clark's Hotel ten minutes before the agreed time, your mind still churning with questions. The hotel bar is dimly lit, all dark wood and leather, exuding an air of discreet luxury. You scan the room, but there's no sign of Andy yet.
Settling at the bar, you order a club soda. You need to keep your wits about you for whatever this meeting might bring. The bartender slides your drink across the polished surface just as you feel a presence at your elbow.
"Thanks for coming," Andy greets you in a low voice.
You turn to face him, taking in his appearance. He looks tired, the lines around his eyes deeper than you remember from the courtroom. His suit is slightly rumpled, as if he's been wearing it all day.
"What's this about, Andy?" you ask, cutting straight to the chase.
He glances around the bar, then back to you. "Not here. I've got a room upstairs. We can talk there."
Your instincts flare with caution, but curiosity wins out. You nod, following him to the elevator.
The ride up is silent, tension thick in the air. As the elevator doors slide open, you follow Andy down the plush carpeted hallway. He stops at room 712, swiping the keycard and holding the door open for you.
You hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is spacious but dimly lit, with a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Andy moves to the mini bar, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. He offers you one, but you decline with a shake of your head.
"Alright, we're here. What's going on?" you ask, your patience wearing thin.
He takes a long sip of his drink before turning to face you, his expression grave. "I need your help," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You raise an eyebrow, skepticism clear in your voice. "My help? With what?"
Andy runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration you remember from your law school days. "It's about the Donovan case."
Your mind races. Robert Donovan, a prominent businessman, found brutally murdered in his penthouse apartment. The Donovan case is the high-profile murder trial of the year - possibly of the decade - and set to begin in a few weeks.
Your eyebrows shoot up. "The Donovan case? Andy, that's not even your case. It's being handled by the DA's office."
He nods, pacing the room. "I know, I know. But I've been looking into it, and something's not right. The evidence doesn't add up."
You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. "What do you mean?"
Andy takes a deep breath, then launches into a detailed explanation. He talks about inconsistencies in witness statements, forensic evidence that doesn't quite fit the prosecution's timeline, and a potential alibi for the defendant that wasn't fully investigated. As he speaks, you find yourself drawn in, your legal mind picking apart the details.
"The blood spatter analysis," he says, pulling out a file from his briefcase, "it doesn't match the prosecution's theory of how the murder happened. And look at this," he points to a photo, "the angle of the wound suggests the attacker was left-handed, but Donovan is right-handed."
You lean in, examining the evidence. It's compelling. "Andy, this is... fascinating. But why are you showing me this? Why not take it to the DA? Or the press?”
“Someone with too much money, too much power, and too much influence is somehow pulling strings to pin this the way they want. You can help me identify the right players. But, what’s more, you have the necessary clout and influence in this town to go to the DA and be taken seriously, and I don’t have that yet.”
You take in a deep breath and study his face.
Impatient, he implores you by name - first name, not last name like he always did in law school and like he had these past months.
“It’s eating you up to admit that, isn’t it?” you finally say.
He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it does. Satisfied?”
“Mildly,” you admit, a hint of a smirk on your face. “But Andy, why should I trust you? Word around town is you’re hit or miss on your cases, and I’ve just beat you on all three when we’ve come toe to toe.”
He arches a brow. “You think I’ve lost my edge?”
“You were brilliant Newton - on track to be the DA, you won everything.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. He licks his lips. “Do you think it’s possible that the cases I’m losing now are for the defendants that should be put behind bars, the ones I have no guilt taking money from, and that I’m just that good that they never question that I’m making sure they get what they deserve?”
You arch an eyebrow. He doesn’t lose everything, and he certainly didn’t make any rookie mistakes on the cases he is losing.
“I’m willing to entertain that premise.”
“Alright, that’s all I need. Now what about Donovan?”
You mull over everything he’s shared so far. Your gut says he’s not wrong.
He says your name again, prompting you back into the moment.
You lock eyes with Andy, searching for any hint of deception. But all you see is earnestness and a hint of desperation.
"Okay," you say slowly, "I'll listen. But I need to know everything. No holding back, no surprises later. If we're going to do this, we do it right."
Relief washes over Andy's face. He nods vigorously. "Of course. Everything I have, it's all yours."
You move to the small desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair. "Alright then, let's get to work. Start from the beginning."
For the next few hours, you and Andy pour over the evidence, dissecting every detail of the Donovan case. As the night wears on, your skepticism fades, replaced by a growing certainty that something is indeed very wrong with this case.
Around two am, you lean back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. "This is big, Andy. Really big. If what we suspect is true, it could implicate some very powerful people."
Andy nods grimly. "I know. That's why I needed your help. I won’t be able to do this alone."
You sigh and press your fingers to your temples, massaging away what stress you can, though it seems futile. “This has to stay between us for now. If there's even a whisper of this getting out before we're ready..."
"I know," he interrupts. "Believe me, I understand the stakes."
As he gathers the files, you move to the window, gazing out at the city below. The lights twinkle like stars, hiding the secrets and machinations of the powerful. You can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.
Andy appears at your side, and you turn slightly to look at him. “Why are we in a hotel room discussing this? Secrecy? If you’re that worried, it won’t be hard to track you here.”
“I…” he laughs. “No, actually. It’s worse than that.”
“Oh, Andy,” your voice is wary, “don’t tell me you live here.”
“I haven’t gotten around to finding a place.”
“Six months, Andy!”
He smirks and cocks his head. “You’ve been keeping track of how long I’ve been in town?”
You look away, feeling your cheeks flood with heat.
He takes a step closer, not touching, but near enough that you can feel the warmth of his body.
“I didn’t know this was where you landed,” he says, “but when I got here and heard you were one of the top lawyers in this town, I felt a mix of curiosity and pride and... something else." His voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I thought about reaching out, but..."
You turn to face him fully, your breath catching slightly at his proximity. "But what?"
Andy's eyes search yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "But I was ashamed. Of how things ended between us in law school. Of how my life had fallen apart. I didn't want you to see me like that, but I didn’t want to run away and start my new chapter making a cowardly choice by picking some place else."
The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken history. You remember the fierce competition, the heated debates, the undercurrent of tension that had always existed between you two. And now, years later, here you are, standing toe to toe once again.
"Andy," you start, unsure of what to say. But before you can continue, he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "That's not why I asked you here. We should focus on the case."
You nod, trying to ignore the sudden pang of disappointment. "Right, the case. We need a plan."
As Andy moves back to the desk, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions - frustration at his deflection, curiosity about what might have been, and an overwhelming sense that you're on the precipice of something monumental with this case.
Leaving the window, you join him at the desk. "We need to be methodical about this. We can't afford to make any mistakes."
Andy nods, his professional demeanor firmly back in place. "Agreed. I think our first step should be to re-interview some of the key witnesses. There are inconsistencies in their statements that we need to explore further."
You tap your finger on the desk, thinking. "That's risky. If word gets back to whoever's pulling the strings, they might move to cover their tracks."
"True," Andy concedes. "But if we're careful, we might be able to gather crucial information without raising suspicions."
You consider this for a moment. "Alright, but we do it discreetly. No official channels. We'll need to come up with a cover story for why we're asking questions."
As you and Andy begin to outline your strategy, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. You feel it in every meaty case, that feeling never going away though you’ve been practicing for years.
"We obviously need to be careful about who we to to with this information," Andy says.
"I have a few trusted contacts in the police department who might be able to help us discreetly.”
“I’ve already established a few contacts on the street. And what about your paralegal, Sarah? Could she be brought in on this?"
You consider for a moment. "Sarah's reliable, and she has a knack for research. She could be invaluable. But let's wait before bringing anyone else in. For now, it's just us."
"Just us," Andy echoes, his eyes meeting yours. There's a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words.
You clear your throat.
"Right," you say, breaking the tension. "Let's focus on our next steps. We need to start gathering concrete evidence to support our theory."
Andy nods, visibly refocusing. "I've been thinking about that. There's a security guard at Donovan's building who was working the night of the murder. His statement seemed off. Like he was holding something back."
"Good catch," you reply, impressed despite yourself. "We should try to talk to him first. Maybe we can convince him to come clean."
"Agreed. I'll set up a meeting, make it look casual. We don't want to spook him."
As you continue planning, the sky outside begins to lighten. You glance at your watch, surprised to find it's nearly five am.
"We should probably call it a night," you say, stifling a yawn. "Or morning, I guess."
Andy looks up from the notes he's been scribbling, seeming equally surprised by the time. "You're right. We've made good progress, and we’ll need to be sharp for this."
You start gathering your things, your mind already racing with the day ahead. As you reach for your coat, Andy's hand brushes against yours. The touch sends an electric current through your body, and you freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity. You turn to face him, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.
"I know this isn’t the right time," Andy starts, his voice low and husky, "but I can't ignore this anymore."
Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. For a moment, you're too stunned to react. But then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor, years of unresolved tension pouring out.
Your hands find their way into his hair as he cups your face in his hands. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate.
Andy breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. "We shouldn't," he whispers, but his actions betray his words as his hands roam your body.
"No, we shouldn't," you agree, even as you start unbutton his white shirt. You know you should leave, should maintain professional boundaries. But the pull is magnetic, undeniable.
His hands reach for your hips but slide up your waist, fingers slipping beneath your sweater, and your feel your skin light up at every point of contact.
"We were too busy hating each other back at law school, but I've thought about this for years," he murmurs. "About you."
“You hated me?” you ask.
“No,” he admits.
“Me either,” you say truthfully.
Before you can say anything more, his lips are on yours. This second kiss is tentative at first, a question. But when you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck, it quickly becomes heated, desperate. Years of competition, of unspoken attraction, of what-ifs, all pour into this moment.
Your back hits the cool glass of the window, and you gasp at the contrast with Andy's warm body pressing against you. His hands are everywhere, pushing your sweater up and off your shoulders, reaching for the button of your jeans.
Your fingers fumble with more of the buttons of Andy's shirt as he trails hot kisses down your neck. The cool glass against your back contrasts sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours. Your head spins, overwhelmed by sensation and the surreal nature of the moment.
"Wait," you gasp, placing a hand on his chest. Andy freezes immediately, concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?" you ask, searching his face. "There's no going back."
Andy cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. "I'm sure," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "But I’ll stop if you want to me to stop—"
You silence him with a kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire into it. That's all the confirmation Andy needs.
Clothes are shed hastily, hands roaming newly exposed skin.
Andy spins you around, your bare skin pressing against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The city sprawls out before you, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The sky is a canvas of pastel pinks and oranges, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.
His warm body molds against your back as his lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You shiver, partly from the chill of the glass, partly from the heat of his touch. Your breath fogs the window as Andy's hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
The city below is beginning to stir, early risers starting their day, unaware of the passionate scene unfolding high above them. There's a thrill in being so exposed, yet so hidden.
Andy's fingers thread through yours, pressing your palm against the glass, his other hand guiding the head of his thick cock to your entrance as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed. He’s big, so big.
Andy's hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he starts to move. The slow, steady rhythm is almost agonizing, but you can feel every inch of him stretching and filling you. You moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as the pleasure builds.
His pace picks up gradually as he leans down to kiss your neck again, his teeth grazing over your skin. Your fingers curl against the glass, your body moving in sync with his.
It's like a symphony of sensations – the warmth of Andy's body against yours, the coolness of the glass on your skin, the sounds of pleasure mingled with the noises from outside. It’s been years since you were intimate with anyone, and you have forgotten how good it feels to have a man inside you instead of a toy.
You lose yourself in it all, chasing after that elusive release that seems just out of reach. But then Andy's hand slides between your body and the glass, his fingers finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He presses down just right and everything around you fades away as you come undone in his arms.
Andy follows soon after with a low groan, pulling out just before he spills his seed over your lower back and ass, his body shuddering against yours with pleasure. You collapse against the glass, and he presses against you, both breathing heavily and trying to catch your breaths.
As reality starts to creep back in, you realize how exposed you are – a naked couple pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window for anyone below to see. Panic sets in for a brief moment before being chased away by a warm contentment at being wrapped up in Andy's embrace.
"Good thing we’re seven floors up," he whispers into your ear, seeming to read your mind. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back slightly and reaching for tissues from a nearby table to clean his spend from your back.
You laugh softly as you start to look around for your clothes. "Definitely not something I ever thought I'd do. And never thought it would be with you."
"I'm glad we did though," Andy says with a smile that you feel against your neck as he presses in behind you, not letting you move away just yet.
The rising sun paints your bodies in a golden glow, highlighting the sheen of sweat on your skin. Andy's free hand traces the curve of your breast, and you sigh happily.
Gently, he turns you back to face him, and then in one fluid motion, Andy lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.
Andy kneels above you for a moment, pausing, his eyes roaming your body with undisguised desire. He’s already taken you once, so it’s no surprise, but his gaze is overwhelmingly intense, almost reverent, as if he's committing every curve and freckle to memory.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
There's no rush, no desperate urgency. Andy takes his time, exploring your body with gentle hands and soft lips. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist. Each touch sends shivers through you, generating a slow, simmering heat.
You run your fingers through his hair, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. There's an intimacy to this moment that surprises you - it's not just about physical pleasure, but a connection that feels deeper, more meaningful. Unexplored potential from years before spilling into reality now.
Andy's lips trail lower, across your stomach, down to the inside of your thighs. Your breath hitches as he settles between your legs, his intent clear. The first swipe of his tongue has you arching off the bed, a gasp escaping your lips.
As Andy’s tongue expertly circles your sensitive clit, you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensation. His skillful fingers tease and caress your folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Your moans grow louder as he delves deeper, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. You lose all sense of time, only focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
With each flick of his tongue, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your body tenses as you reach your peak, crying out in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm rocks through you.
Andy continues to pleasure you until your body finally relaxes, then he crawls back up to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
"Wow," is all you can manage to say, still catching your breath.
"Mmm," Andy hums against your lips. "You taste amazing."
His tongue dances with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth. The intensity builds as he presses his body against yours, one hand tangling in your hair while the other caresses your side.
The kiss seems to go on forever, stealing your breath away. Just when you think you might need to come up for air, Andy breaks away, only to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His lips find that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shiver with pleasure.
"Turn over," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You comply, rolling onto your stomach. Andy's weight shifts on the bed as he positions himself over you. His lips return to your skin, starting at the nape of your neck. He places soft, feather-light kisses down your spine, taking his time to savor every inch.
His hands glide along your sides as he moves lower, kneading the muscles of your back. You feel the tension melting away under his touch. Andy's lips follow the curve of your spine, his stubble lightly scratching your skin and sending tingles through your body.
As he reaches the small of your back, he pauses. You feel his breath, warm and heavy, against your skin. Then his tongue darts out, tracing a sensual line back up your spine. You arch into the touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.
Andy's hands knead the muscles of your shoulders, working out knots you didn't even realize were there. His touch is firm but gentle, alternating between deep pressure and feather-light caresses. You feel yourself melting into the mattress, tension draining from your body.
As his hands work their magic, Andy's lips continue their exploration. He places open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you.
His hands are firm yet gentle, eliciting soft sighs of pleasure from you. As they move lower, massaging down your back, you feel yourself melting into the mattress.
His lips follow the path of his hands, peppering kisses across your shoulder blades and down your spine. The combination of his strong hands and soft lips has you practically purring with contentment.
Andy doesn’t pause when reaches the curve of your lower back this time. His hands grip your hips, lifting them slightly. You understand his intent and rise up onto your knees, keeping your chest pressed to the bed.
Andy's hands caress your ass, kneading the flesh appreciatively. You feel exposed in this position, but the reverence in his touch chases away any self-consciousness. His thumb traces your folds, finding you still slick with arousal.
"God, you’re already so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Getting wetter and wetter for me.”
Andy's hands caress your thighs as he positions himself behind you. "I want to taste you again," he says, his voice low and husky. "You think you can take more?"
You nod eagerly, anticipation building as you feel his warm breath on your sensitive flesh.
"I dreamt of having you like this in the library our last semester," he confesses and you groan. "Spread your legs a little wider for me."
You comply eagerly, shifting your knees further apart on the soft sheets. Andy's thumbs gently part your folds, exposing your most intimate areas to his hungry gaze.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he coos, leaning in so you can feel his hot breath on your sex for a moment, and you fist the sheets.
Andy starts with gentle kisses along your inner thighs, working his way higher. When his tongue makes contact with your core, you gasp at the sensation.
"You taste so good," Andy murmurs against you. "I could do this for hours."
His tongue explores every fold and crevice, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. You moan as he circles your clit, pleasure building with each pass.
"That's it, let me hear you," Andy encourages. "I love the sounds you make."
He slips a finger inside you, curling it to hit just the right spot as his tongue continues its ministrations. The dual stimulation has you writhing, pushing back against his face.
"So responsive," Andy says appreciatively. "So wet and ready for me. You're close, aren't you?"
You can only whimper in response as he increases the pressure. Andy's skilled tongue works over your sensitive flesh, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit. His hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as you writhe with pleasure.
"More," you gasp, fisting the sheets. "Please, Andy, don't stop."
He obliges, redoubling his efforts. His tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your sex. You feel the familiar tension building, a tingling heat spreading through your core.
"That's it," Andy encourages, briefly pausing his ministrations. "I can feel you getting close. Your pussy's clenching, begging for release."
He slides a second finger inside you, curling them both to hit that perfect spot. Combined with the relentless attention of his tongue on your clit, you reach for the peak of a third release, but then he slows.
You whine and shift against him. He chuckles. “Oh, I want to torture you more while I enjoy your eager body.”
“Andy!”
“You love it,” he says, “and I have a feeling you can take so much more.”
Andy's hands caress your thighs as he shifts his position slightly. "I want to explore every inch of you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your sensitive skin.
Andy's hands gently part your cheeks, exposing you fully. You feel a moment of vulnerability, but it quickly gives way to arousal as his tongue traces a path higher. When it reaches your puckered entrance, you gasp at the new sensation.
"Is this okay?" Andy murmurs against your sensitive skin.
You nod, words failing you as he begins to explore this uncharted territory. His tongue circles your opening, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention. The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced before - strange at first, but quickly becoming intensely pleasurable.
Andy takes his time, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands knead your ass cheeks as his tongue works its magic, occasionally dipping lower to tease your dripping core before returning to its primary focus.
As you relax into the sensation, Andy becomes bolder. The tip of his tongue presses against your tight ring of muscle, not quite entering but applying delicious pressure. You moan, pushing back against him, silently begging for more.
"You like that, don't you?" Andy says, his voice husky with desire. "Your body's so responsive, so eager for my touch."
He resumes his ministrations.
"Relax," Andy soothes, his hands massaging your lower back. "Just feel."
His tongue circles your entrance, tracing lazy patterns that send tingles of pleasure through your body as he continues.
He alternates between broad strokes and more focused attention, occasionally dipping his tongue inside. The sensation is intense, making you moan and push back against his face.
"That's it," Andy encourages. "You're doing so well. Does it feel good?"
“Yes,” you whimper as he increases the pressure.
Your body trembles with pleasure as Andy continues his intimate exploration. His skilled tongue works you into a frenzy, alternating between your sensitive openings. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two fingers into your dripping core while his tongue focuses on your puckered entrance.
The dual stimulation is overwhelming. You cry out, fisting the sheets as waves of pleasure crash over you. Andy doesn't let up, working you through your orgasm and beyond it.
When the aftershocks finally subside, Andy places a gentle kiss on your lower back before moving up to lie beside you. He gathers you into his arms, stroking your hair as you catch your breath.
"You're incredible," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You snuggle closer, basking in the afterglow. For a moment, you forget about the case, about the complications. You're just two people, connected in the most intimate way.
But reality starts to creep back in as your breathing returns to normal. You lift your head to look at Andy, finding his eyes already on you.
"We should talk about this," you say softly.
"Us? Two lawyers? Talk about something?”
You laugh softly at Andy's quip, but the seriousness in his eyes belies his light tone. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and brushes his thumb over your cheek.
"I know," he says, his voice low. "This complicates things."
You nod, acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. "The case..."
"Is still our priority," Andy finishes for you. "We can't let this distract us from what's at stake."
You sit up slowly, the sheet pooling around your waist. Andy's eyes roam your body appreciatively before meeting your gaze again.
"But I don't regret it," he says firmly. "Do you?"
You consider for a moment, then shake your head. "No, I don't. But we need to be careful."
"Yes," Andy agrees. He sits up too, running a hand through his tousled hair. He looks at you another moment, and then his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I think we need to keep this separate from our work on the case. When we're working, we're colleagues. Nothing more."
You nod, leaning into his touch. "And when we're not working?"
A slow smile spreads across Andy's face. "When we're not working, we can explore... this." He gestures between you two.
A smile tugs at your lips. "I like the sound of that."
Andy leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. It’s slow, and there’s a sweetness in the depth of it that scares you a little, not expecting that.
But you kiss him back, savoring the moment before reluctantly pulling away. "We should probably get some sleep," you say, glancing at the clock. "It's almost 7 AM."
Andy nods, but his hand trails down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "Stay," he says, his voice low and husky. "We can grab a few hours of sleep here, then get started on the case."
You hesitate, knowing you should probably leave, maintain some distance. But the thought of curling up in Andy's arms is too appealing when he’s so willing.
Andy's warm body envelops you as he pulls you down to lie beside him. His arm securely wraps around your waist, offering comfort and warmth. You nestle closer, finding solace in the rise and fall of his chest beneath your head. The rhythmic beat of his heart lulls you into a peaceful state in the early morning hours, your eyelids finally surrendering to the heaviness of sleep. As the world fades away, you know what’s coming next will be one of the most difficult challenges of your life professionally and personally, but at least in this moment you will take solace in the tenuous safety of this connection.
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I started this story months ago, was pretty disenchanted with at the time (thanks @biteofcherry for talking me through that), but now that it's had time to age, I went back in, did some rewriting, and I'm happy with where it has finally landed.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
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fakeagatha · 3 days ago
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Mrs Fletcher | Prof! Eve Fletcher x Fem!Reader | Chapter Five: Bill's on Me
Summary: Your impulsive thoughts win, and you find yourself "treating" your professor to coffee.
A/N: Yes, the professors' discussion about books, eggs and bottlecaps is based off of the things I'm currently witnessing in highschool.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1490
AAA Community
Divine Headcanon Generator
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You and Steve finish your food, and you wiped yourself off with the napkin the waiters had left. Throughout your entire meal, you kept shooting glances towards Eve, who was sometimes already looking at you, making you have a small heart attack each time. Unbeknownst to you, Eve was mortified at having been caught, pretending to look out the window next to you.
She could see the determination and passion in your eyes every time you uttered a word, admiring your facial expressions and hand movements that you used to emphasize. She was knocked out of her trance when her mind warped back to the reality of her coworker complaining.
"And I told our excuse of a principal that these kids need to be expelled, but he won't listen to me!" She sighed, "I kick them out of every class but it isn't enough. One day, one of those bottle caps is going to take out one of my eyes." Mrs Davis crossed her arms, relaxing back into her seat. "It's exhausting."
"They used to throw books in my class, but after one of them was kicked out of my course none of them dared to do it again." Mr Butterfield added with a smirk.
"Teach me your ways, Carlos!" Mrs Davis groaned, making the rest of the group chuckle.
"I need to know how as well. I found pieces of boiled egg on my classroom floor once." Mr Rogers joined in, rolling his eyes."
Eve shook her head with a smile, and darted her eyes back to you for a moment, unaware that this whole time you had been talking about the interaction you had with her earlier that day.
"But yeah, I still feel pretty bad about how I kind of, shut the door in her face while sweating profusely..." You bit your lip, looking towards her and quickly looking away, pretending not to have seen her when she was already looking at you again.
"We talked about this already, she seemed fine just now, didn't she? I doubt she cares that much, she knew you were in distress." Steve reassured,  "You don't think she actually read the whole thing, right?" He grinned, and you rolled your eyes.
"No, she wouldn't. I know because she probably would've confronted me. Well I hope anyway, unless she was lying so I-"
"Hey you guys!" You were interrupted by the familiar voice of your professor, making your mouth hang open mid sentence. "I was just coming to say goodbye. The others already went outside, but I'm not as rude as them." She teased, almost letting her professional walls crumble.
Your eyes widened again, and you slowly looked up at her. "So soon?" You chuckled. "Why don't you... Let me treat you to another coffee?" You blurted out, making both Eve and Steve look at you in pure shock.
Eve cleared her throat, "It wouldn't be nice of me to deny your offer." She chuckled, being unable to refuse your offer, even though she was your professor. Steve quickly stood up. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom for... A bit. It's an emergency!" He lied, smiling awkwardly as he quickly walked away.
You shot him a death glare as Eve sat down in the now empty chair. "You know, it's very kind of you to offer me a drink, Y/N." She smiled, and you blushed at her comment.
"It's my pleasure, take it as a way of me thanking you for that perfect score on my last essay." You smirked at her, and she shook her head. 
"That was all you, dear. It was tremendous work and I had to give you the credit you deserve, hm?"
Your cheeks reddened a bit more, looking at her thankfully. "Either way, thank you." You smiled quickly drawing your attention away as you flagged down the waiter walking past, ordering two more coffees for the pair of you.
Eve sighed, folding her arms and looking out of the window, before resorting to an attempt to break the silence.  "You grew up in New York, didn't you?"
'How does she even remember that?'
"I did, I'm surprised you remember that." You chuckled.
"Do you miss it there?"
You paused a little, biting your lip. You loved California, but at the same time, the life you lived in New York was nice too.
"Sometimes. I miss my parents occasionally, but..." You bit your lip, "I do enjoy the freedom here. I'm lucky enough that my best friend since highschool attended the same university as me." You stated, looking up at her understanding expression.
"I do understand that feeling, hon." Eve smiled, "I lived my childhood in New Jersey before I moved here in my late twenties to become a professor." She admitted, and you felt special knowing that she was beginning to open up to you, in a way. "Even though I've been here for twenty odd years already, and of course I love my friends here, but I think about my old life too." Eve added, twirling her fingers. She was very thankful for Amanda, Jane, and Julian, her closest friends who had stood by her through it all. "I have this friend around your age back in New Jersey, but we still keep in touch, so if you're worried about losing touch with anyone back home, remember that you will most likely-"
You couldn't help but smile as Eve kept rambling on about her life and her friends, as she kept trying to reassure you about your worries.
The pair of you were interrupted by the sound of Eve's obnoxiously loud ringtone. She picked up her phone from when she left it on the table, and stood up:
"Excuse me dear, but I need to take this. I won't be long!" She smiled, quickly getting up and stepping outside, pressing the "Accept Call" button on her screen.
You nodded to Eve, taking note of the empty cups in front of you. You raised your hand, signalling to a nearby waiter you gave you a look of acknowledgement. You looked at your phone, realizing that Steve had disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Was he actually hiding in the bathroom this whole time? You opened up his chat.
"Where tf are u???"
"I escaped through the bathroom window. I'll pay you back!"
You silently cursed, raising your head when you saw that the waiter was already heading over.  He approached you, smiling politely as you began to speak, "Hey, could I have the bill?" 
The waiter raised an eyebrow, checking through his phone on the system.
"It seems your bill has already been covered."
You looked at him, dumbfounded for a moment, and you suppressed a shocked smile when you realized, rolling your eyes a little. "Right, I see... Uh, thanks." You stammered as he walked away from your table.
Right at that moment, you saw Eve coming back from her phone call outside, tapping on her screen as if she had only just hung up.
"Mrs Fletcher!" You exclaimed, looking at her, and she simply smirked.
"What?" 
"You didn't have to pay for the bill, you know. I was supposed to be treating you, and you even paid for mine and Steve's orders!" You sighed, looking up at her in mock annoyance.
Eve chuckled and shook her head, "Please, don't worry so much about it. I don't often cover the bill for anyone, so really, it's no biggie."
Your expression turned to one of humor, crossing your arms. "So you're telling me that I'm an exception to your money?" You laughed, making Eve pause for a moment.
"For today, yes."
You stayed silent for a moment, before chuckling, stumbling over your words. "Ugh, I- fine. But I'll pay you back eventually!"
Eve went to protest, but eventually gave in after seeing the determination in your eyes, making her put her hands up in defense. "Alright, hon."
HON.
"I hate to cut this short, but I have somewhere to get to." She got up from her seat. "Are you okay walking back, or would you like me to take you?" She offered, and your heart swelled.
"It's a five minute walk, but I won't deny your offer." You shrugged, standing up next to her, "You don't have to walk me if you don't have the time," 
Eve shook her head, "I've got some time. I wouldn't have offered if I couldn't, eh?"
You agreed, stepping out of the cafe door behind her, quickly walking up next to her as you began to cross the street. The two of you took in the scenery, the sun making the grass beneath you glow in its rays.
"You know, as much as I love thunderstorms, this part of town looks so gorgeous in the sun." Eve broke the silence, putting her hands into her pockets as she looked up at the sky.
Eve looked back at you, only to redden when your eyes were already locked onto hers. You smiled awkwardly, looking back down at the grass beneath you. 
Entering the campus, she gave you a smile. "I will see you Monday morning, Y/N." 
"I'll see you on Monday, Mrs Fletcher."
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2am-writing · 10 hours ago
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You're a Coward Steve Harrington
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader 
Category: Angst to fluff
Summary: Steve has been avoiding y/n for the last month. It’s not until you’re shit faced at a party for him to confess what’s really going on.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, taking shots, smoking, smoking weed while driving (I do not condone this behavior this is just here for the sake of the story and vibes LOL), throwing up, fighting, kissing
WC: 2.5
A/n: Second “fanfic” “imagine” esc post!! I really hope you like it. This was fun to write and please don’t judge my shitty writing lollll I’m still working on it and lots of room for improvement (: 
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“I still think he’s into you” Nancy laughed at y/n as she told Nancy the infamous story of how one day her and Steve were the bestest of friends, inseparable really. How they did everything together- movie nights, parties, dinners, even sleepovers. Steve and y/n became close very quickly ever since y/n moved to Hawkin’s about a year ago. But one day later everything had seemed to banish out of nowhere. 
It crept up slowly, and though y/n was trying not to read too much into it at first, she soon realized she should’ve because when she finally came to terms with what Steve was doing it was too late, and he was gone- Not literally gone as in disappeared but, gone from her life. 
It first started with Steve not returning your calls right away, letting them go unanswered for hours, until those hours turned to days. He stopped walking you to class and meeting up before and after school. He avoided you at lunch, and started making excuses to get out of hanging out. All which ultimately led to him completely dodging your presence.
Finally when it became too much for y/n she pressed him in the hallway, on the verge of breaking down, demanding to know what she did that made Steve want nothing to do with her anymore. Steve’s heart was shattered at the thought that he let y/n think that this was her fault. But overall, he thought losing her like this was a better alternative than getting rejected and ruining the friendship that way. So when she pressed him that day in the school hallway, it took everything in him to say nothing and just walk away.  
Over the course of that month Robin countlessly called Steve an idiot, she suspected the feelings he had for y/n but nothing was confirmed. Steve was too stubborn to admit to anything. And Robin too- like Nancy, tried telling y/n
‘I think he’s just an idiot who’s into you.’ But without confirmation, y/n just accepted that Steve had a newfound hatred for her and the only thing could do was bury her feelings for him and forget it. 
As for y/n, she spent a lot of her free time with Robin when she wasn’t with or working with Steve, and Eddie too- they were just friends of course but they did get significantly closer ever since Steve walked out of y/n’s life. 
10pm hit as Nancy, Jonathan, and y/n stood outside the Wheeler’s house waiting for Eddie to pick them up for a party. You weren’t really sure whose party it was, but Eddie knew the guy which automatically meant you and your friends were invited. 
You were excited, and felt like this would be a good opportunity to finally let loose and have fun after how stressful this month has been for you. You wore a tight black mini skirt, a baby tee that rose just above your belly button, and knee high boots. You wanted to feel good about yourself tonight, forget about Steve and everything he put you through. You were never much of a partier and you definitely preferred smoking and relaxing than drinking and partying, but you knew a switch up would be good for you.
When Eddie finally pulled up you hopped in the passenger seat, as Johnathan and Nancy sat in the back.
“Hey- you clean up nice” Eddie laughed at y/n while passing her the joint he just lit. Y/n accepted the joint gracefully and took a hit of it, before Eddie started driving off to the party,
“Not so bad yourself Munson,” She coughed out before taking another hit, 
“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie stammered, “One, save some for me-” He took the joint back smoking it, “Two, slow your roll and wait till we step foot in the party before you completely lose yourself.” 
The drive over to the party was no more than 20 minutes. On arrival, Jonathan and Nancy went their separate ways as they are more of the inverted partier type. As for you and Eddie, he took you straight to the kitchen to get started on drinks, 
“Okay doll, what’re you drinking tonight?” 
“Tequila,” You answered without hesitation, Eddie was taken off guard by my answer. He knew that wasn't my typical drink of choice. His eyes widened and eyebrows raised,
“Well shit y/l/n, why do I have a feeling I’m gonna be carrying you out of this place tonight,” He laughed pouring your guys’ first shot of the night. 
You cheered your shot before taking it with ease, then taking a hit of a joint you just lit. Eddie’s eyes looked at you in disbelief as you held the joint in your mouth inhaling while pouring another shot before- he chimed in,
“I don’t know if I should be proud or concerned for you,” 
You shook your head laughing, "I just need to say fuck it and let loose Eddie, I’ve been needing this for a while, okay."
Eddie is aware of the situation that went down with Steve, he’s the one who has been at your side and at your every call, always there to comfort you. He knew how much Steve meant to you, though he never understood why you liked him so much, but you just claimed he never got to know Steve like you did.
“Doll, I know you need this, just be careful please I can’t babysit all night-” Eddie got cut off by his friends welcoming him and dragging him out to the back patio.
All honesty you were fine being left alone, tequila made you wanna dance and that’s exactly what you went to do.. After you took another shot of course. 
You slammed your shot glass on the counter after taking it, then filling up your red solo cup with a mixed drink and hit the dance floor. 
You were doing exactly what you had planned on doing, letting loose and having fun. A benefit to going to a party where you don’t even know who’s hosting it is you don't know a lot of the people here- making dancing with random guys a lot easier.
Whilst in the middle of quite literally throwing it back on some guy whose name you didn't even know, your body suddenly froze up, you felt as if your lungs had started constricting, and anger rose inside of you noticed Steve fucking Harrington walking in the door with Robin- 
‘I should’ve known, a friend of Eddie’s is more than likely a friend of Robin’s of course they’re fucking here.’
You sighed, taking a deep breath in, 
‘Tonight is my night of fun and letting lose, fuck Steve Harrington,’ 
You took another swig of your drink before continuing dancing, you were definitely feeling the alcohol hitting you now. 
Steve spotted you the moment he walked into the house. Jealously rose inside of him as he saw you dancing with some guy. But he still couldn't help but miss you and his heart felt like it was aching. That feeling followed up with the thought of rejection, and he couldn’t help but replay the moment in the hallway you two had shared when you were pressing him, he had never seen you so angry.
He quickly snapped back to reality, he could automatically tell you were drunk, he smiled to himself admiring how confident you looked dancing, drink in your hand, you looked as if you didn’t have a care in the world. He missed your presence. 
A few minutes later Steve found himself in the kitchen grabbing a beer. After taking a prolong drink he heard someone stumbling into the wall over towards the bathroom. 
With curiosity getting the best of him he peered around the corner, and there you were. Drunkenly stumbling, joint in your mouth, your hand pasted to the wall using it to guide you to the bathroom door.
When you reached the bathroom you had slammed the door behind you before placing your joint on the sink carefully, then falling to your knees in front of the toilet waiting for the contents in your stomach to rise up. 
Steve slowly approached the door listening to what you could be doing, he more just wanted to know that you were okay in there. The second he heard you start to vomit, worry washed over him. He lost control over himself and didn’t think twice before he opened the bathroom door. His eyebrows pinched together, sympathy in his eyes at the look of you hanging over the toilet sick. 
Your head had snapped over to the door upon it opening, your face had a look of anger then quickly dropping as you made eye contact realizing it was Steve, 
“What the fuck are you doing here,” Your words slurred,
“I know- I know you hate me,” Steve calmly said while closing the door behind him then kneeling down next to you pulling your hair out of you face and holding it back, “Just- just let me help you please,” 
Before you could respond you resumed throwing up and coughing in the toilet violently. Steve continued to hold your hair back while with the other hand he was rubbing small circles in your back calmly saying, “It’s okay, you’re okay- just breath,” 
Truth to be told, his presence felt very comforting, and as much as you wanted to kick him out of the bathroom, scream at him, and analyze this odd situation- You were far too crossed from the weed and alcohol to even think.  
“Why- are you- here Harrington,” You began choking on your words before tears started to form in your eyes, “You avoid me- for- a whole fucking- month, you’re just gone- and now you want to just show up again,” 
“I know- I know, I-”
Before Steve could finish his sentence you started vomiting again cutting off his sentence, his heart ached seeing you like this,
“Hey hun,” His tone gentle, “Can I please take you home, you can’t stay here like this,” 
As much as you hate to give in so easily you knew you were only gonna feel worse. Plus you had a feeling Eddie left the party already with a girl that was hitting on him on the back patio so this may be the best option for you,
“Okay,” You croaked out grabbing Steve’s shoulder to boost you up. Steve stood up with you wrapping his arm around you to help keep your balance,
“Okay- let’s go” 
He guided you outside the house, walking you to his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside. The world was spinning, your mind was racing yet it was also blank, you rested your head on the window feeling drowsy,
“Your house or mine hun,” 
“Steve-” you slurred, “I can’t go home like this,” 
"Okay," Steve nodded, driving off to his house. 
You blacked out during the car ride, you felt as if you were jumping in and out of reality, nothing felt real. One moment you were sitting in the passenger seat of Steve Harrington’s car, the next minute you were laying on his couch with a slightly better grasp of reality.
You slowly sat up rubbing your eyes not caring if you smeared your mascara. You noticed Steve in the kitchen holding a cup of water as he started walking towards you, 
“Here,” He said quietly, “Uh- We just got here- like 10 minutes ago- here drink this,” He hands you the cup and you drink the water reluctantly glaring at him, 
“How can you just act like nothing happened Steve? You were my best friend one day, and a shitty- selfish person the next.”
Steve sighs, embarrassed, and unable to look you in the eyes. He knows you’re right, he can’t just have you stay the night without explaining why he did what he did. He knew he had to tell you the truth, and he had to tell you tonight. 
“Do you remember the time- uh- we stayed up all night just talking in my car,” Steve’s demeanor was soft, he was staring at the ground breathing slowly,
“Yeah,” 
“I think about that night almost everyday you know,” He pauses taking another deep breath, “We talked all night- about everything- and you feel asleep on my shoulder at sunrise-” 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes at Steve, “Yes Steve I get it. I was stupid enough to open up to you, about everything, my whole life. What? Just for you to ditch me months later and forget about everything?” Tears started forming in your eyes, you started to fill of rage,
“No, no- Just- please let me finish,” I stayed silent, 
“Y/n I love you-” 
“You’re a coward Steve Harrington,” You shouted at him, “You don’t abandon someone you love,” 
Steve’s head snapped up at you making eye contact, you could tell something changed in him, 
“Dammit y/n I fell in love with you!” He shouted. He maintained eye contact, your eyes widened, eyebrows raised, your breathing fasten, yet you remained silent,
“I’m sorry I abandoned our friendship y/n- I’m sorry I left you hanging. I was scared of your rejection, I didn’t wanna lose our friendship that way y/n. I know it doesn’t make sense, but at the time- you know- it did. I know I’m a coward from running away from those feelings, but I just knew you could never feel the same,” Steve stopped talking and started catching his breath,
“Steve, you're an idiot,” You gave him a saddened pitiful smile, “How could I not like you back? Of course I had feelings for you,” Steve’s expression softened as those words left your mouth,
“Really?” In the moment nothing but guilt washed over Steve, he was happy too- But more so he felt guilty, like a real jerk for wasting all that time away from you. But ultimately, all the worry he had of getting rejected from you had vanished. 
Steve inched closer to you, closing the gap that laid between you guys. He held eye contact with you momentarily, breaking it to stare at your lips. His hand cupped your cheek as he closed his eyes slowly pulling you into him. You leaned into his kiss, your hands hanging around his neck. 
You couldn’t believe this was finally happening, Steve felt like he was dreaming.
When your lips collided it felt as if the whole world around you disappeared. Your lips fit perfectly together moving in sync, his lips were soft and gentle with yours. Everything felt perfect. 
Steve paused pulling back, you were both smiling like idiots at each other catching your breath before Steve spoke up,
“I missed you so much- I’ve been wanting to do that for so long you have no idea,”
“No, you have no idea Harrington,” You laughed, “Don’t ever do any of that dumb shit again,”
Steve laughed shaking his head before pressing his forehead against yours, 
“Trust me, I’m never letting you go again honey.” 
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lolitastories · 21 hours ago
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Rafe Cameron
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
“Detective?” I turn my head and see Julie walking up towards me. “They gave her some medicine to calm her nerves. EMT said her levels were stable.” I let out a sigh, feeling calmer with her words.
“Good. I’ll see you back at the station.” She nods, turning around to get into her car. I open my door but before getting in I take in the scene. 10 minutes ago the whole place was blazing with sirens but they left when they took the victim to the hospital. The lights of the officer are still on as they clean up the place before leaving. A few feet from me an old shack, a shack where the fisherman kept Acosta. It had been a long couple of days. After getting back to the station we had no choice but to let the man go. He apparently had nothing to say and the warrant of his house gave us nothing. I decided to follow him since he left the station and on the second night he slipped away to an abandoned shack. It wasn’t even a minute later that I saw Acosta through the window and I called for backup. It was something that I loved about this job, the feeling of finishing something horrible. Although it would be best for them not to start, it felt nice knowing I can be one of the people who helps.
“Wait!” My head flinches to my right seeing Jon rushing over to me. “Sergeant got a call,” He falls forward resting his hands on his knees. “Drugs all over the scene.” I contain my laugh seeing how out of shape he was.
“You good?” He lifts his head with an annoyed expression.
“I texted you the address, I thought you would want to take care of this one.” I pull out my phone and check the address. I don’t recognize it.
“Drugs are your department,” I put it on my gps before turning my attention back to Jon. “We don’t have much of those, probably why you are so out of shape.” I crossed my arms standing proudly as he finally straightened up.
“Trust me you are going to want this,” The smile instantly fell seeing how he wasn’t humored by my comment. “Rafe was there.” What the fuck was Rafe doing there? I felt my stomach drop and I hurried to get into my car.
“I win!” I roll my eyes, setting my car on drive and pressing the gas. It was currently 9pm as I raced through the roads. The salty wind going through my hair as I start to imagine the worst possibilities. What happened that involved so many drugs? What was Rafe doing there? The past couple of days I hadn’t been able to talk to him due to me stalking the fisherman but what could have happened to get him involved in such a thing in less than 48 hours? I stretch my fingers from my steering wheel, letting go of the tight hold I had. Stressing until I get some details won’t help.
“What happened?” I rushed over to the Sergeant as he was overlooking the team packing up the evidence. One by one you can see them carrying packages of what it looks like to be cocaine. The shady trailer was apart from the rest of the lot. The outside was trashed and surrounded by an unkempt lawn.
“That's what I want you to figure out.”  his eyes still lasered focused on each package moving into one of our vans. “Rafe is not telling us anything, but he keeps on mentioning a Barry guy.” My head turns to see the trailer's door propped open. It was like a dark tunnel with a faint light coming from inside. “Figure out what you can and if he still decides to keep his mouth shut take him in for questioning,” Fucking hell. I can’t tell you how nauseous that made me feel. “We have enough here to keep him locked up until he decides to speak.” No matter how buddy buddy Rafe was with him, he didn’t look left to things involving crimes.
“Alright.” As I turned my step towards the trailer I focused on only one thing, the crime. “Where is he?” I speak to an officer standing by the door.
“The first room to the right.”
“Thanks.” I dryly say making my way around the people in the trailer. I pushed open the door and made sure no one but Rafe was there before I fully closed the door. He was sitting on a chair with his head leaning against the wall. His eyes glued to the floor as he heard my footsteps become louder. I had a feeling he knew it was me when I watched him open his mouth but nothing came out. The faint dry blood had stained his shirt, hand and due to the shitty lighting I can hardly tell if there was some on his face too. “What happened, Rafe?” His shoulders were limp and his breathing surprisingly calm.
“I tried to call you.” I stopped mid step taking in what he had just said. “I’ve done some pretty horrible things in my life, things that were driven by sudden decisions.” A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he finally picked up his head. “I told myself for the first time there was someone who actually cared enough for me to pick up her phone,” I opened my mouth but stopped seeing him shake his head. “I know you were busy and it's stupid for me to think that just because I called-” I rushed over kneeling in front of him and grabbing onto his hands.
“It's not stupid Rafe.” I tilt my head up making sure he was focused on my next words. “Know that I would have dropped everything to be there for you.” As we looked into each others eyes I thought of myself as over. Love is not easy to find and if you are lucky to get it right on the first run, you will have hell fighting to keep it. Somehow when it came to Rafe, it didn’t matter how it happened, it just did. And just like every person no matter how hopeless romantic you are, you look at those romance movies and think of how cringy something is. How stupid for them to make a statement without logical thinking but, here with Rafe, it was true. My job is important and it wouldn’t be practical to just leave it if he called but I would, I would choose him every time. “Believe me that I would,” I hear a sigh leave his lips as he slowly begins to nod. “What happened, Rafe?” I ask again with a quieter tone. A plea to not give me roundabouts. As he starts to speak I reach over and trace the residue blood on his face. It didn’t seem like he was hurt.
“I met Barry back in high school,” He leans forward, taking my hand away from his face. His expression suddenly turned cold, maybe even ashamed? “He was the one I used to buy drugs from until I decided to go clean.” Little island=lose mouths. You don’t have to try, people will come up and tell you everything about everyone. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. “He came to find me about a week ago.” I get up with a small groan. Having him tower over me with such closeness brings ideas to my head that I had no time to think about right now. This man has corrupted my thoughts that I no longer have self control.
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” I clear my throat taking a couple steps back.
“Because when he first came to find me, it was a friendly visit,” He dragged on that word. He stood up from the chair, carefully eyeing my body language. “Before leaving he mentioned he had some drugs on him and offered me some,” My feet instantly started pacing as he continued to speak. “Of course, I said no, and he left.” I looked at him confused; how did it lead him here? “The next day I found an envelope taped to my door-” We both turned, hearing the sound of someone knocking on the door and the slow creak of it being opened.
“Sergeant said someone needed to be looked at?” A young girl cautiously stuck her head in.
“No need.” Rafe answers dryly, waving her off. I give him a look and start to walk over to the door.
“I’ll take some alcohol wipes and a bandaid.” I pull the door a little wider as she opens her first aid kit and hands them over. “Thank you.”She smiled sweetly before I closed the door behind her. “Sit.” I hear a groan leave his mouth before doing what I told him. “Why are you mad, I should be the one pissed off right now.” He rolls his eyes before confusion sets.
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“A moment ago, you were worried and now you are pissed at me?” I scoff and laugh a little, unbelievable.
“And a moment ago you were acting like a victim, but I am yet to hear how that adds up.” Of course, I believe that there is a reasonable explanation on how he ended up here, so there should be no reason to be in a bad mood. “Now lean forward.” His eyes were daring me, just like the almost non existing grin on his face. He sits back, man spreading on the couch. I move to stand in the middle of his legs and with a sigh of defeat I lean forward to rest my hand on the back rest. He leans his head back and I am thankful the lighting is not shitty enough that it allows me to see his face clearly. I break open the alcohol wipe and start cleaning his forehead.
“Tell me you will believe me?” Once again, those puppy eyes. I bit my lip slowly nodding as I still focused on cleaning him up. He catches me by surprise when he grabs my wrist. “Tell me?”
“I will Rafe, now continue telling me how you got mixed up here.” He sighs letting go of my head allowing me to continue. “In the envelope were some transactions made by my father,” Ward Cameron. “Proof that he had sent a large amount of money to an account.”
“What does it have to do with the Barry guy?” I say as I throw away the wipe and get another one.
“The owner of the account is a friend of his. Years ago, while I was in rehab my father paid them off.” I looked into his eyes, and he was telling the truth. “Letting the word out that the heir to his business was doing drugs wasn’t a good thing so he paid them to stay quiet and leave outer banks.”
“By the looks of it they never left.” Inside was somewhat decent but I bet they hadn’t cleaned in months.
“Barry didn’t, he laid low until his money did too.”
“So, he is using the proof of the transaction as a threat?”
“Oou-’ He pulls back, feeling a sting. I held back a laugh.
“Sorry,” I whispered, moving on to be gentler. Still doesn’t explain the blood in his hands. “Continue,” He gives me an annoyed look like I did it on purpose but lets it go.
“I ignored it until last night. I went to visit Wheezie and she mentioned talking to him.” I paused looking down to meet his eyes again. Rafe had mentioned his sister before. The way he mentioned and talked about his sisters was the opening he needed to get into my heart. I like how proud he sounded when he mentioned their accomplishments. Wheezie especially, he seemed to be a sucker for her. “I couldn’t help myself and came straight to find him. One thing is to threaten me, but I know he intentionally went to find Wheezie.” I nod understanding his anger. “On my way here, I called you because I knew I was about to do something stupid.” My eyes fell down as a deep pit in my stomach started to form. “When I got here, I confronted him, then it led to me landing a punch and then he did this” He motioned to his face. I stood up as my mind turned gears. 
“I am guessing they didn’t catch him,” He shakes his head. So, the Barry guy was on the loose and with multiple charges coming his way, if he is used to this, he will be quick to hide in a good place. “I need-” I take a step to go around him, but he grabs my forearm and if it wasn’t for quickly grabbing onto the backrest again, I would have fallen on top of him.
“No,” Point blank.
“What do you mean no?” I furrowed my brow trying to figure him out.
“No.” he said again with a monotone voice. “I don’t want you involved in this,” I yank my arm away while still towering over him.
“Too bad it's not your choice.”
“Aren’t drugs that Jon’s guy territory?” I let out a laugh
“What are we, animals?” He didn’t seem amused. “This is my case,” I push myself away and, in an instant, he stands and turns to the door.
“Not for long,” I grabbed his arm, pulling him to stop.
“Stop it Rafe,” I push him back and stand between him and the door. “They gave me this case, tell me one good reason why I should back down.” Like a little kid he has his arms to his side. His eyes to the floor as his shoulders are slumped down.
“If you do this and you get hurt it would be my fault,” I wanted to take on this case. I wanted to do it for him. I see how it was affecting him that his past came back when he fought so hard to keep clean. One day he will tell me everything about his past and I will be there to hold his hand. Hopefully by agreeing with him now, it will show him that I am there for him.
“Fine.” He lifts his head with widened eyes. “But you have to agree on letting me on the case if they ask for my help,” He nods, moving closer to wrap his arms over my shoulders. I let out a content sigh before wrapping my arms around his torso. His breath tickled as he buried his face in my hair, right beside my ear.
“That means I will get more time to spend with you, alone.” I laugh.
“That has to be the only reason you want me out of this case.” I tease. I place my hand on his stomach and try to push him away but he doesn’t budge, making us swing a bit.
“Maybe,” His hands slowly creep to my hips. His face is still buried in the crook of my neck making a moan slip away when he begins to place kisses. “It will give me time to show you plenty of what you have been missing out on.” That voice. That low and full of promises voice, it always has a way to send shivers to my core.
“No date?” He chuckles.
“That's the date included. You will see what it is like to date Rafe Cameron.” I cringed a bit, but it made the anticipation grow even more.
“Since you begged so much,” I tease. He pulls away acting offended. “What?” I held back another laugh. I wait for his comeback, but his eyes only soften, his grip pulling me closer.
“And I would have taken this lifetime and the next begging for you.”
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magiclwritings · 2 days ago
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Max and he never fought. Their entire friendship they'd had disagreements but nothing like that phone call. And while they'd not been in a situation like this before, let's face it, who has? That wasn't something they did. It weighed on him as he put together the ingredients he grabbed up for dinner while they were out. It was far too early but he knew the next few days would be filled with a lot of turmoil and emotions and he was really damn determined to make sure that this first night home for Quintus was nice. He needed it to be. Maybe it wouldn't be enough to ask him to stay but maybe he'd consider it? His mind was going a million miles a minute and doing him no favors.
A loud clang sounded as Cesare pulled out a sheet pan and a large sauce pan from one of the lower cabinets. He offered an apologetic smile to Quintus still looking at him from where he'd perched. It was then that he'd realized all those years away, there moments like this they could have shared. It only hollowed his stomach more but still the warmth of the thought lingered and he as grateful for it. "I hope you're hungry because I know I'm starving." He told him, trying to ease the little tension that seemed to settle over the youngest of the two.
A few moments later and a few culinary feats, for Cesare anyway, he'd been able to produce a from scratch pizza crust and had the sauce simmering beautifully on the stove behind. Almost everything was ready except the cheese. "Want to split it down the middle?" He asked as he produced a grater and two different cheeses to be shredded. "I can't remember if you like banana peppers or not." He smiled, making short work of the first block of cheese and then promptly moving onto the next. The thought of not knowing whether or not Quin liked something starting to weigh on him. Maybe all that time away from each other had pushed them too far apart. Perhaps that was why things felt so charged between the two of them. But as Cesare gathered the cheese into a bowl and moved back to combine everything together he caught sight of him and he felt his heart swell and clench at the same time. That can't be for nothing.
Cesare moved quickly, taking the pan from the stove and spread the sauce all over the surface of the dough. It already looked so good. He was quick to duck his hand in to the cheese and shoved a handful into his mouth, little pieces spilling from his mouth and onto his shirt and the floor below. "Help me dress her up." He motioned Quintus over to him as he moved back and grabbed all the pizza toppings he could see in their refrigerator and pantry. He popped off the top to the banana peppers and quickly popped one into his mouth before he started to put a few on the end of the pizza closest to him.
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Quintus didn’t pay much attention to the phone call between Max and his best friend. He was focused on the after jitters of almost kissing Cesare. He could not cross that line while he was back in town. He had to curve it no matter how badly he wanted to satisfy that craving. Quin was not in a position to be Cesare’s answer, and Cesare couldn’t be his. The almost relationship they had back when they were teens had to stay in the past. They had spent years apart between them, and neither of them was the same person they once knew. It was affection that drew them together now, nostalgia. That was it. 
What he could hear in the phone call went as he had expected. Maximus was upset that Quintus wasn’t precisely where he was supposed to be. Maximus was worried that Cesare was spending time with Quintus alone before he even got eyes on his little brother. It was another way for Max to control the situation control Quin. He would always see him as his little brother, not the adult he had returned as. That was something Quintus would have to put a stop to immediately. He couldn’t afford to have Max hovering over him while he was here. 
He was so lost in his worries that Quin hadn’t realized they were back at the house until Cesare stepped out of the car, offering to make him food. It was such a Cesare thing that Quin had to roll his eyes. He never second-guessed taking Quin to the store and buying all of Quin’s favorite foods, and now he would carry all of the bags in himself and cook something for him. It made Quin want to throw up because it made Cesare so much more attractive in his eyes. He was so careful with Quin, so attentive without being overbearing. He hated it. 
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“Want me to cook you something?” He muttered mockingly as he exited the car without returning Cesare’s sunglasses. He glared at the man as he walked past Quin, scolding him for his mutterings. Of course, he heard it. Fuck him. His payback came in the form of taking his sweet ass time getting the door. Quin took small, slow baby steps, stopping to smell the flowers on his way in. He made Cesare wait there until he finally couldn’t stall any longer. Quin opened the front door, stepped into the house first, and held the door open for Cesare. He watched as the man made his way through the house and into the kitchen. 
With a sigh, Quin closed the door and followed him into the kitchen. Instead of unpacking the groceries, Quin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and hopped onto the counter, stubbornly kicking his feet against the cabinet doors. He didn’t speak as Cesare moved through the kitchen with a practiced ease. It didn’t surprise Quin; this was Cesare and Max’s home, but it was so bizarre to see Cesare know his childhood home so intimately. It was a painful reminder that Quin was the stranger here, not Cesare or Max. And he didn’t know how to process that feeling. He wasn’t sure if he could.
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felassan · 1 year ago
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DA Foundation Technical Director Jon Renish and DA Writer Mary Kirby have tweeted saying that they are among those who have been laid off from BioWare.
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flamboyant-king · 1 year ago
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You know me. I like barely ever show any NOT SAFE FOR WORK drawings on here. So instead, I'm sharing drawings of my face AS I was drawing each NOT SAFE FOR WORK thing.
And the subject is right there, smack dab in the middle. Being tormented by the sins of the egg. (I drew him really cute but I can't share the rest.)
ALSO, I'd like to state that it's not corngraphic except like two maybe, it's more so like violent. We are all just having fun beating this guy up. Like, step right up and stomp on his face type shih. I never ever ever draw violent stuff, unless it's lewling related, so this is like cathartic.
This uhh feeling will fade after Halloween hopefully and we'll go back to our regularly scheduled wholesomeness and cammypus.
#i looked in a mirror 20 feet away as reference because im like NYAHAHA WHAT EVILS HAVE I COMMITED#and i see my own smug face in the mirror like 'yes this will get me hunted down'#sketches#i do comedy slapstick violence but ya know doing more darker jokes and adult humor feels nice like im not censoring myself#i mean i still am by not showing you guys a lot of the bloody or even H O RN Y stuff but ya cant expose everything#like for those of yall who have followed me for years id say were all legal here for more than my usual 13+ content#i just want ro be appealing to a broader audience IN CASE i ever did make it somewhere but haha its been what#8 years since i started this blog. any credit i had died off with teeny taku fhjdjsksajsk#ive got no image to uphold. i have nothing im trying to promote anymore. i do but ive lost the plot ya know#im just having fun and im glad you guys are just ...letting me? like i looked at my old stuff#with the cookies the pokemans the fehs the ocs. and yall just let me go freaking wild and thought#yeah ill give that a like. bless yalls hearts. bless ya souls. ive got thousands of posts on here and yall just let me run wild#and thank you for that. ya never pit pressure on me. kts me outting pressure on myself.#i do wish there were folks that did look forward to some actual tangible content instead of me shitposting with no cohesiveness#but thats just hard with adhd. and try as i might with medications and alarms and deadlines and what have you. its just. difficult#like even the tags here are derailing. but i hope that alongside me just having fun doing my thing. i hope i can get on course#where there is a clear line to follow in my life but i dont lose sight of it as i trail off#but for now. im just drawing experimenting and straight up goofing around. have fun you guys#i may not show you everything but just know im having fun too.
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succubusvalentine · 14 days ago
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Simon Riley with a user who basically kidnaps herself. CW : Masturbation, mentions of oral
It started with the little things. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise more frequently. You heard heavy breathing and a slick sound at night coming from your slightly open window. A blank account following your public instagram account.
You then started seeing him. A tall burly man that seemed to always appear In the corner of your eye. You never saw his face because of the balaclava he wore. And that frustrated you.
Hell, if a guy is going to stalk you, the least he can do is not hide his face.
Eventually, you got sick of it. You let the brute of a man follow you home as usual. Let him watch you 'sleep' through your window while he fisted his cock. And then when he went home, you followed him.
You honestly thought he'd catch you. Feel you watching him. Following him home. But it seemed that his post orgasmic haze rendered him vulnerable.
You followed the man to a nice looking home. Not huge or anything, but It was cozy.
You then watched through a window as he drank a glass of whiskey, before walking through the home to his bedroom.
You quickly rushed to the bedroom window, glad the blinds weren't fully shut.
The man then sat down on his bed, pulling something from his bedside drawer-hey wait, are those your fucking panties you lost? Sneaky bastard. Those are your favourite.
And now he's fisting his cock again. Only this time, he's taken off that stupid balaclava to sniff them and-oh.
Oh.
Fuck, he's hot.
Those scars, the dirty blonde hair, the slightly crooked nose from being broken so many times, Jesus H Christ.
Yeah. To say you were thinking of this mans face between your thighs was an understatement. He might genuinely be one of the hottest men you've ever seen.
You quickly went home, going to the blank account that had followed you, and with a few clicks, you found the guys private instagram. Simon Riley. He's not the only person who's good at stalking.
You then found out that he was in the military. A Lieutenant. Seemed to be really private. No matter though, you already knew where he lived.
The following day, you took the day off work, and broke into Simon's home. Moving almost all of your stuff in. He wouldn't mind.
Then, when Simon walked into his house he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you, sipping from one of his mugs, on his couch.
The woman he'd been stalking for nearly a year.
"I-what-what are you doing here?" He muttered, eyes wide as he took off his balaclava.
"You should have shown me your face earlier. I would have moved in ages ago" you shrugged.
"Moved in?" Simon almost squeaked.
⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧
before you all panic, yes. There will be a part two :p
Edit! ~ there's a part 2 you thirsty animals ⟢ right here! ❤︎
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I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:
Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.
In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.
But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.
Until, that is, the last fortnight.
Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.
Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.
Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.
"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"
I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.
Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.
"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."
"Nothing at all?" I asked.
"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."
This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.
"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."
Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."
(It was good potato. I am a hero.)
So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.
"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.
"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"
"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."
And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.
And Tumblrs
Tumblrs
Let me FUCKING tell you
They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -
They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.
You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"
I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.
"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."
They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.
But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?
Anyway. Super super proud today.
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yongseungkim · 10 months ago
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.
#like i definitely need therapy lol#not that i havent tried in the past nothings just worked/stuck like the therapists werent a good fit for me perhaps#so im trying to reach out again because holy shit#i want to a) get out of my phd and b) have normal fucking friendships#but its so hard right now when anxious thoughts take over SO much some days like i know i cannot do this on my own#i have good friends i know who will hear me out#but man its the same thing over and over again with me but in a new font sometimes i swear#and my friends dont need to hear all those anxious depressive thoughts lol like#once in a while sure esp my closer friends but all the time? nawr#i have been trying to journal but man the emotions just bubble up and i dont feel better until ive like said things out loud#so honestly just having someone to rant about the same issues over and over again might be nice lol .#but i need to find a therapist that fits which is the hardest part#i do think ive made small strides on my own which is nice#but the emotions are just so loud and genuinely affect my day to day like its so hard battling things on my own#im at the point now where im like this cant go on for much longer somethings gotta change#if i want to have a phd in the next year and if i want to maintain friendships normally#and esp if i wanna stay roommates with this girlie cuz holy shit its been a lot harder than i expected maybe#i dont think i can do it on my own without major reprecussions#bro its also been like so long#i feel like ive always had some human i was extremely fond of for the past ?? years albeit most of them were like fake right like in the kp#*kpop world so it was fine when it becomes a real person it is absolutely terrible let me tell u .#but its also been a habit like i didnt realize how terrible my thoughts w ys were until now cuz they really wernet normal thoughts at all#like i want to break free of having these kind of attachments to people in a way cuz the only way i feel like ive been able to deal with bi#feelings is by transferring them to a new subject which isnt what i want anymore#like i just want it all to stop!#i also feel like mentally ive gotten worse ?? than before ?? in some ways like#i dont know if i want to make new friends and connections anymore#the same way i was trying so hard in the previous year which is worse bc now my efforts are like#SOLELY on this one girl in a way which is NOT. GOOD.#ive been trying to have conversations with the third roommate but i have to force myself?
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singmyaubade · 4 months ago
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Good Luck Babe
poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader
summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy
a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!
STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.
On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.
The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.
But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.
And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.
It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.
You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.
Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.
And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.
You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,
"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."
You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.
Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"
"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."
James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."
Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.
Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."
"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.
James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.
"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.
"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.
Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.
Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.
You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.
And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.
You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.
You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.
But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.
And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.
You had to do it for yourself.
The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.
Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.
And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.
After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.
And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.
You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.
You only laughed as you embraced her,
If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.
As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.
As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.
A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.
You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.
You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.
They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.
You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.
He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.
Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.
On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.
Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."
"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.
Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"
Are you actually fucking kidding me?
You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"
The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.
"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.
"Yep, that one," You snorted.
They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.
"She means in a good way!" Mary added.
"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.
They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.
"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.
"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.
You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.
"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.
You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.
As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.
You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.
"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.
You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.
A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.
Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"
"We just wanna—"
"We're so—"
"Listen, we just—"
They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.
You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.
They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.
James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."
You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"
James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.
"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."
You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.
You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.
Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.
And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.
The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.
"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.
Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.
"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.
The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.
You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.
"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.
"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.
"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.
Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.
"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.
"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.
Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.
Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.
What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?
The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.
As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.
Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.
So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.
You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,
What really is the worst thing that could happen?
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simonbrain · 5 months ago
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love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️
the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.
(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.
"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")
you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).
you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.
words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.
then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.
he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.
before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."
you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.
a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?
(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)
good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.
"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.
kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).
who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.
there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.
"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.
simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.
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sinner-as-saint · 4 months ago
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drag me under
Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader 
Run-through: After what has to be one of the most exhausting and exasperating meetings he’s ever had with the Bishop and Mother Superior, Father Charlie desperately needs a quick release. It was wrong, he knew and he’d repent for it later. Except, what he thought was going to stay as a secret between him and God ends up involving a third witness – you. 
Themes: smut, explicit language, mentions of infidelity, degrading kink
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Fuck. He was close. 
He’d shut himself inside the confessional booth a few minutes ago because he absolutely needed to get his mind off certain things. Those meetings always left him feeling like a damned pressure cooker, and he always needed to let out some steam after. 
All that arguing, and having to keep his cool and maintain composure when all he wanted to do was yell and tell them all that he was right and they were wrong. It had to be the generational gap, but sometimes he felt like he was being tortured with how much his mindset differed from those of his superiors. Why couldn’t they just let him do things his way? 
But he pushed all that aside for a moment. Just a moment, that’s all he needed. Fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, his spit and precum giving him just the right amount of lubricant, his head thrown back against the thick wood as he worked his fist up and down his cock, as fast as he could. 
He tried to keep his gasps and moans as quiet as possible. It was late in the afternoon, there wouldn’t be anyone around during this time, but just in case. A groan left his lips anyway, and he bit his lip immediately after. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… 
He could hear how fast his fist moved, the friction was almost just as good as how he remembered sinking into a warm body felt like. Almost, not quite as exhilarating though. 
Fuck! 
A few more tugs, a couple more unrestrained moans later, and he came with a loud sigh. Spilling all over his hand, gasping for breath as he blinked a couple times, already feeling his thoughts flowing much easier. His all black suit, his collar around his neck didn’t feel as tight and constricting anymore. 
He quickly cleaned himself up with a handkerchief he’d have to put in the trash later, he sighed one more time as he made sure to fix his clothes and was about to walk out of the booth when he heard a timid, soft, almost hesitant voice ask: 
“Are you done, Father?” 
He froze. 
Shit. 
He cleared his throat. It sounded like a young woman on the other side. He tried to look but the screen only allowed him a partial view of your face. Okay, okay, don’t panic. He could still get out of this situation. Maybe you didn’t hear what he was doing. Maybe you’d just gotten in here. Maybe you were too naive to even know what those sounds were. 
He cleared his throat again, “How, uh, how long have you been waiting for?” He tried his hardest to sound apologetic for making you wait. 
A moment of silence. Then you replied, “Long enough.” 
That voice. He knew that voice, didn’t he? 
He said your name out loud. A pause then, “Is it you?” He asked. 
A sigh. Then, “Yes, Father.” 
Ah. He let out a quiet breath, relieved. 
He had no reason to worry if it was you. You were what he called a lost little lamb, too innocent for her own good. He knew your family. They were nice people who frequented the church, and lately your parents had been worried about you since they found out that you had a troublesome boyfriend who was nowhere near the god-fearing type your family wanted you to date. 
He also knew that you, unlike your parents, were not seen very often at church. He saw you here and there, sometimes at charity events, or sometimes at the tennis court with your mom. But never in the confessional booth. 
Father Charlie sat up straight, looked ahead at the wooden door and asked, “This is your first confession?” 
“Yes, Father.” 
“And what would you like to confess?” He asked, knowing he was going about this all wrong. No signs of the cross, no ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned’, but he was impatient and… intrigued. What could a shy, timid girl like you have to confess?
“I… I slept with my boyfriend.” 
He couldn’t help but turn towards the screen. He watched you as you fidgeted and squirmed. “Did you?” He didn’t recognise his own voice. 
“Yes, Father.” You answered. “But that’s not all.” 
“Oh?” 
A trembled sigh left your lips, then you said, “While we were, um, when he was...” You struggled to speak. 
And Father Charlie felt weirdly interested all of a sudden, so he urged, “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” He cooed gently, using the soothing voice he always used with everyone. “Use your big girl words, come on. When he was, what?” 
“Father, I cannot say it.” Your words sounded heavy with shame. 
So he urged you even further, “Like I said, you’re safe here. Now tell me. When he was, what? On top of you? Fucking you? What happened, did he hurt you?” 
“No,” You said quickly. “No, he was… gentle.” 
Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, “And?” 
You let out a shaky breath and confessed, “I wanted him to…” You trailed off, “I know it’s wrong to want these kinds of things, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted him to be rough. To make it hurt.” 
Another shaky breath left your lips, and this time Father Charlie felt like he was the tormented one. He frowned as he looked down and noticed that he was hard again. Shit. 
He cleared his throat again. “I see.” 
But you were quick to add, “It’s wrong, isn’t it? To want things like that? Isn’t it, Father?” 
There was a strangely innocent desperation in your voice even as you referred to sinful things. The kind of innocence he wanted to take into his hands and crumble it into pieces but also preserve it at the same time. 
Fuck, he was hard. And it was painful because you were right there. 
“Depends,” He answered, “What other things do you find yourself wanting?” A small, quiet gasp left your mouth. Father Charlie caught himself smirking at the sound of it. “And don’t lie. I can’t help you if you lie.” He noticed movement on the other side of the screen. Maybe your hand touching your neck out of nervousness. 
“I… I like being told what to do. I like authority. I like…,” You gasped, as if not believing you were actually saying all this out loud, “I like it, I mean I like the idea of men being mean to me, in bed. I want them to take what they want from me, with consent of course. But I don’t want them to be gentle about it.” 
Oh fuck. 
“That’s, uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. His cock was making his trousers tighter. His hands were shaking with the need to grab and feel a warm body. Preferably that of a shy young woman who thought she should be ashamed of her desires. “Yes, that’s not right.” He did his best to sound stern and disappointed. 
A soft sound came from the other side. Sounding a lot like a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Father.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I should go.” 
It all happened too quickly. The sound of the door opening, the sound of you trying to rush and get out. Before he knew it, he was out of the booth as well and stopping you from leaving. Your wrist in his hand, his chest heaving, tears down your face, a shocked look in your eyes. 
“Did I say you could leave?” He asked, looking down at you and noticing the way you didn’t even fight him. Aww, a lost little lamb indeed. 
“No.” You whispered, going along with the movement as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall, beside the booth. 
“You’re disobedient,” He noted, “I should punish you for that.” 
“Yes,” You mumbled, like you were ready to be punished for your sins. 
“Yes, what?” He chided. 
“Yes, Father.” 
And oh, how he would’ve loved to have you on your knees in front of him. To have his cock in your mouth. To make real tears stream down your face, ruining your makeup. But he didn't have too much time. 
He stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. He noted the way your eyes remained fixated on his white collar, those teary, innocent eyes. You didn’t even know the treasure you were. 
“Look at me,” He ordered. 
You did. Unable to look away once you did. 
“You’ve been a bad girl, you know that, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded at him. “And I need to punish you, because I need to make sure you’re good from now on, don’t I?” You nodded at his words again. “Good,” He whispered, then grabbed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. 
He fucking that little gasp of surprise that left your mouth as he kissed you, hot and messy. His hands reached down and bunched your dress up before he slipped his hand in between your legs.
He chuckled into the kiss when he felt your flimsy underwear. “See now, good girls don’t wear things like this. You understand?” He whispered, running his knuckles along your wet folds and smearing your arousal around through the thin fabric. “I’m gonna have to take it off, okay?” 
You nodded again. 
And he did, he slid your underwear down until it fell to your ankles. He watched as you stepped out of them and he immediately slid his knee in between your legs, followed by his hand again. “This is all part of your punishment,” He whispered into your ear, and watched how you shivered upon feeling his warm breath. He slipped his two fingers into you with ease and smirked against your skin as he felt your arousal coating his fingers, which he curled inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you gasp and moan.
You whimpered and closed your eyes, sighing and moaning when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your throat. He chuckled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, “See what a little slut you are? Cheating on your boyfriend, and letting me touch you however I please,” He scoffed, “Is this what you came to do? Was this your intention?” 
You bucked your hips against his hand impatiently. “Please,” You murmured. 
He pulled his fingers out, and messed with his belt, undoing it and the zipper on his trousers until he pulled his cock out. “Please what?” He asked, rubbing his wet fingers along his hard cock, “Huh? What do you want?” 
You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes. 
“Oh?” He taunted, “You want this cock? Huh?” He leaned in and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke in a lowered voice that sent shivers down your back, “Does this little slut need a cock in her?” 
“Yes,” You murmured, unable to take it anymore. 
“Yes, what?” He growled. 
“Yes, Father.” You quickly corrected yourself. 
He smirked, smug. Then he lifted you up until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your back against the wall, and the two of you partially hidden by the booth. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned out loud. 
“Shh,” He reminded you, “Quiet.” 
“Please,” You whined, eyes shut. “Please, Father…” 
“Shut up,” He hissed as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “Shut your needy little mouth up.” 
You moaned as he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging painfully into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours sliding into his hair as he filled you up nicely. 
“So fucking wet for me…” He whispered against your cheek as he rocked in and out of you. “I bet you’re not this wet for your little boyfriend, huh? Does he feel this good? This big?” He chuckled. “Does he know you let random men fuck you?” 
You were a mess, moaning and whimpering when he began moving in and out of you. His cock reached places that had you whining out loud. 
“Shh,” He hissed again, “Shut up, you little slut. Shut the fuck up.” He groaned as he fucked you. He kept an eye on your surroundings, just in case someone wandered in. 
But you kept moaning like crazy so he did the only thing his lust-filled brain could think of, he brought out his soiled handkerchief from earlier and shoved it in your mouth, and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Yeah, that’ll shut your filthy mouth up, huh? Is this what you wanted? Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like the needy little whore you are, does he?” 
Your moans sounded muffled now, and he fucked you relentlessly, earning more and more muffled whines and moans and whimpers out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he fucked you harder, reaching deeper. 
He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. “Filthy girl.” He sped up into you again, making you cry out. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? You couldn’t help but spread your legs for me, huh? Even for a man of God? You couldn’t help it.” He taunted. “What else would you do for me? Would you come here everyday and let me have you? Hmm? Would you let me fuck your needy little pussy like your boyfriend can’t?” 
He knew you couldn’t answer him, so he chuckled and continued as he felt your walls clench around his cock. Fuck, he had missed this. He’d missed making a beautiful girl lose control while he was inside her. He knew you couldn’t think right, he was so fucking deep inside you that all you could do was whine and cry, and let him take what he wanted from you. Which is exactly what he did. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you harder and faster against the wall. 
His hand left your mouth, making sure his handkerchief remained nice and snug in there, and reached down until he wrapped his fingers around your throat, he squeezed just enough to make your eyes widen. “Yes,” He goaded you, “You like that, don’t you? Your messed up little head likes this,” He taunted. “It’s filthy in there, isn’t it? You think about these things at night? When you touch yourself before going to bed? Is this what you’ll be thinking about from now on?” 
Your body shuddered, trembling in pleasure. He looked down and noticed the slight cleavage of your sweet little dress. Fuck, he wished he had time to really peel it off your body and have you crawl around naked just so he could look at you. He was sure he could spend a lot of time just looking. 
“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He chuckled, his body moving expertly against yours, “No, how could he? He’s just a boy. He wouldn’t even know what to do with a dirty girl like you.” He leaned in, whispering against your wet cheek, “This is what you needed. I’m what you need.” 
Your mind was a foggy mess already, and he could tell by the muffled by wanton moans that he could still hear that you were so, so close. 
“I bet he doesn’t even come inside you, does he?” He scoffed, “I think he’d be too scared to do that.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “But you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Remember, it’s all part of your punishment. You wanna be a good girl and take all of it, don’t you?” 
You nodded quickly, more tears streaming down your face. 
“Go on then, you little slut. Come for me. Come all over this cock like the needy, desperate whore you are.” He let out a strained moan, “I said,” He spoke, menacingly, “Come for me!” 
Your body tensed up, legs tightening around his waist, hands tugging at his hair, before you let go and came undone around his cock. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching his neck and a loud muffled moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. 
Father Charlie groaned as he came shortly after, spilling inside of you. And fuck, even he could feel how much he filled you up. 
He pulled the now wet cloth out of your mouth as you both felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs. He replaced the handkerchief with his fingers, gliding two of them across your tongue, in and out of your lips as he said, “You’ll come back, won’t you?” He whispered against the corner of your mouth as you caught your breath while sucking on his fingers. “Now that you got a taste of what it’s like, you’ll be back as often as you can just to let me fuck you again. Won’t you, little lamb?” 
a/n: call me sister megan bc i’m frothing–
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sleep-0-deprived · 4 months ago
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Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.
Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა
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A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33
Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.
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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months ago
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You try to find Bucky a date but he only has eyes for you
a/n: playful Bucky and "clueless" reader are my new fave
word count: ~800
warnings: fun fluff, teeny bit angst
・゚✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 。✭・゚
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“Do you have any preferences for a partner?” You sat next to Bucky on the sofa in the common room, determined to find the perfect date for him upon request from Sam.
“Well, I’m very particular when it comes to my type.” Bucky clasped his hands in his lap as he eyed you opening your notes app. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of dating anyone. Well, anyone that wasn’t you to be clear. There was a reason he’d yet to ask anyone out since working here. The same reason he chose to entertain your attempt to set him up. He liked spending time with you. 
“Particular is good. More details mean I can find the perfect person for you.” You beamed at him and Bucky cursed under his breath when his heart did the somersault thing. 
Then he decided to shrug it off. “If you think so.”
Seemingly nonchalant, he watched you prepare some bullet points on your phone, itching to reach out and smack the thing from your grasp so you could hold his hand instead. 
“I am the perfect matchmaker, Bucky. You should be glad I’m helping you. The amount of feedback I’m given for my relationship expertise is unmatched.”
“Think I should check your references, doll,” Bucky smirked. “Cause you never once went on a date since I’ve been here.”
You stared at him blankly and Bucky took the opportunity to look at your lips. And just as he suspected, they looked perfectly kissable today.
“Coaches don’t play, Bucky.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, making Bucky chuckle. 
“Okay now, favorite hair color?”
“I do enjoy a nice y/h/c,” Bucky answered immediately. He knew you’d not let this go, so he might as well play into it. He knew exactly who his type was, so the questions shouldn’t be too hard. 
“Preferred height?” You typed away and Bucky stood and held up his hand to the spot he knew your head ended when you stood next to him. “Abooooout this tall.” 
You glanced at him swiftly, nodding and typing the info like a machine. Bucky chuckled again. You were so invested, he could probably say your name as his preferred one in a partner and you’d write it down without question. 
“Perfect eye color?” 
“Y/e/c.” You froze in your tracks for a second and then you proceeded to type. 
“Wait,” Bucky said, grabbing your face with his metal hand and looking into your eyes with furrowed brows. “Y/e/c with those beautiful speck in ‘em. That’s what I like...”
He watched as your pupils switched between his and Bucky wondered if you’d finally caught on. He wasn’t trying to hide it, after all. However, all he got was another moment of intimate eye contact before your jaw slightly pressed against his hand with the next question tumbling out of you.
“Preferred occupation?” There was the hint of a smile on your lips, and Bucky couldn’t have missed it. Maybe you were even wittier than he thought you to be. 
“Hmmm....” He tabbed his chin now embracing the game you’d invited him into. “I’d die for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” He let go of your face. “Maybe an avenger even - I think that would be perfect for me.”
Bucky turned back slightly, now watching you out of the corner of his eye, heart hammering in his chest yet again. Your fingers typed furiously on that phone of yours and his hand began to sweat. It was fun while it lasted, now he’d have to go back to serious. 
“Bucky-“ his heart dropped when you whispered his name as you watched your notes. But then you put your phone down and grabbed his hands. God, this was worse. You’d let him down easy - somehow he wanted you to be clueless again. “I think I may have the perfect candidate for you.” 
That’s when he finally found the courage to look at you again. Firstly at your hands which were gently wrapped around his and then your face, where big eyes were watching him from below. 
His chest deflated when he saw the unreadable expression in your eyes. “You don’t have to-“
Bucky didn’t get to finish his sentence because warm pillowy lips were pressed to his and catapulted him into a state of utter shock and disbelief. After a few seconds of freeze mode, your fingers squeezed his gently, as a reminder that this was truly happening. And before any more time could have gone to waste, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you with an urgency that had settled deep in his bones. Maybe you weren’t so clueless after all...
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