#yeah i realised that i should get better at reblogging my fics so people who follow me actually see them lol

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Ease

AN: Yes, I caved. I was tempted to write about Seonghwa instead, but I realised I haven't written anything for San yet, so here we are. What can I say, I am a weakling for men with children. Shoutout to Troye Sivan for the title.

Synopsis: After a particularly rough day with months of working on your latest book finally coming to an end, your husband reminds you that's he'll always be there for you. In every way he can be.

General tags: Choi San x Fem! Reader, Reader and San are married with a daughter, Writer! Reader, Househusband! San, hurt and comfort elements, fluff and mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

Smut tags: Switchy tendencies from both Reader and San, nipple play (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, elements of objectification (m. receiving), not a breeding kink but, San gets off (like a lot) cumming inside of Reader and creampie.

Word count: 5743

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Your apartment is silent for the most part when you slip in. You can faintly hear San in the kitchen, but there's no signs of your daughter's signature laugh and nonstop rambling filling the space of your home. The quiet reminds of you of a time that seems as though it was a lifetime ago when it was just San and you. The nostalgia causes a smile to rise to your lips as you place your bag down on the couch and journey your way into the kitchen.

Affection bubbles inside of you as San hums a tune you don't recognise while he cooks. You have no idea what he's making but, the scent invades your nostrils and your stomach growls. Not loud enough to alert him but, loud enough that you remember that the last thing you consumed was an iced coffee during lunch with your editor. Your nerves too fried to even think about eating. The meeting why you've come home so late that your daughter isn't even up to welcome you home.

You try your best to ignore the way that twists your stomach.

Perhaps it's the sheer exhaustion of the day, or the guilt, or just that you simply love your husband that prompts you to walk towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. You laugh into his shoulder when he jumps slightly, nearly dropping the pepper in his shock.

"Jesus, you scared me," he huffs, but there's no real bite in his voice. One of his hands reaching down to give your own a squeeze.

"You were too focused on your cooking I guess," you respond, feeling lighter than you have in months.

"In my defence, this is a great pasta," he retorts, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He lowers the heat before turning in your embrace. You don't know if you'll ever grow indifferent to just how stunning your husband. His dimples poking through as he smiles at you and his arms wrap around your waist.

"How'd it go?" He asks, giving you his undivided attention, and you'll never quite understand how you convinced this man to fall in love with you, marry you, and have a child with you.

You groan a little dramatically, resting your head against his shoulder. His chest vibrates with his soft chuckles, but he waits for you to respond nonetheless, "A lot better than I was expecting. Hongjoong said he was impressed with the first draft and he probably won't have to edit much. Which is great news but, fuck me that was one of the most tense meetings of my life."

"Why's that baby?" He asks, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"I don't think I've poured this much of myself into a book ever, Sannie. God, I'm sure you know that better than anyone. I honestly don't know how I would've reacted if he didn't like it. I think I would've just broken down," you half joke.

He hums, choosing his words carefully before speaking, "I think sometimes it's easy to forget how talented you are because no one reads your work more than you. Even Hongjoong," he says with an uptick of his lips, "You're right that no one knows how much you worked on this draft more than me. Which is why I was confident it'd be received well," he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I'm so proud of you. I always will be."

Tears spring to your eyes completely unbidden. You clutch onto him tighter, your body seemingly determined to meld itself as close to his as possible. San, for his part, doesn't seem to mind. Holding you to his solid form just as closely.

"I love you," you whisper into him. Honestly, you don't expect him to hear you so his, "I love you too," and kiss to your forehead catch you off-guard. Fortunately his next frantic mutter of 'shit' helps to diffuse the tension. Before you can ask what's wrong, he turns away from you once more to stir the pasta. Tension leaving his shoulders when it appears to not have burned.

You take that opportunity to lift yourself up onto the counter and observe his broad back once more. "I'm surprised our little energiser bunny isn't here," you start. You know you're home later than usual but, she's typically still up by now.

He laughs at that, the sound filling the kitchen wonderfully and setting butterflies alight in your stomach, "She's come down with a bit of a cold," the news makes you frown, your grip on the counter growing harsher, "It's nothing too bad but, she has been sleeping earlier over the past few days."

God, how could you miss that? Sometimes, it still leaves you stunned that she's already two. How much more of her life are you going to miss?

"Don't do that."

Your eyes fly up to meet the back of San's head. He seems satisfied with the dish, turning off the stove and setting the pot on one of the cool plates.

"I can hear you beating yourself up from here," he says, turning to you, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort not to shy away from the knowing look on his face. "You're a great mother. I know that, and so does she. Just because you didn't catch that she caught a cold like what, three days ago? Doesn't mean anything."

The guilt still remains but, it's significantly less than it was moments ago. You'll never understand how he does that.

"Now come on, I made this kick ass pasta, and I know you're really hungry right now," he says with a smile. "Grab one of your favourite bottles. I think we've earned it."

San was right. His pasta is delicious. Which shouldn't surprise you, but when you take your first forkful, you're still left stunned. You don't remember the last time you drank something that wasn't water, coffee, or an energy drink, so the wine is a welcome change of pace. The liquid warming your blood and your face and helping you feel more relaxed than you have in ages.

San being the main reason you feel so at ease. It really has been longer than you care to think about since the two of you have had the time to just be with one another. No looming thoughts of work or cleaning or nap times. Just the two of you basking in one another's presence.

"I think I'm going to take a bath before bed," you say once the two of you start clearing your plates and glasses, the wine still lingering pleasantly in your system, "Do you want to join me?"

The look he gives you sends lightning down your spine, straight to the apex of your thighs, "Is this your way of coming onto me?" He even has the nerve to shoot you a lopsided grin over one of his stupidly broad shoulders.

"I'm not not coming onto you but, I was just offering, if you want to."

He laughs at that, "Fair enough. I think I'm going to finish cleaning up here. Feel free to go on ahead, you've more than earned it."

"I can help you, if you'd like."

San waves you off, "I've got this. Now shoo. Go soak to your heart's content with all of your fancy soaps and fragrances."

You hesitate momentarily but, San shoots you a look that leaves little room for argument. With that you, you trudge your way down the hall towards your bedroom. However, you pass your daughter's room on the way there and are unable to push down that suddenly visceral urge to see her. So, ever so slightly and as quietly as humanly possible, you take a peak.

San was right, she's out like a light. Her soft inhales and exhales and little snores filling the space of her bedroom while she clutches onto her favourite blanket. You can hear the nasally quality to her breathing, and that makes you frown, but she's resting now, and that's all you can really ask for at the moment. Just as silently, you shut her door once more. The lightness that comes with just seeing her washing over you.

With that, you continue on your way to your bedroom, smiling at your neatly made bed before stripping out of your 'work clothes.' Which feels absurd to say since your typical work attire consisted of a hoodie and sweats but, you did have an array of more official attire specifically for meetings with Hongjoong, new releases and book signings. A quiet laugh leaves you when you remember that San confessed he thinks you look hot in them once. If you didn't feel little better than a log right now, you'd fuck him while wearing them again.

Shaking those memories from your mind, you drop your clothes into the laundry hamper. You yawn a little as you walk towards the bathroom. Honestly, a warm bath before crawling into your sheets and coiling yourself around San sounds like a dream right now. Despite his dramatics, you opt for a much simpler vanilla scented bath bomb to dissolve into your water this time around. Your eyes fluttering shut, and a moan echoing throughout the bathroom when you sink into the water. The warm temperature practically making you melt as you sink lower and lower.

You might just fall asleep right here.

However, the grime of your day is still on your skin, so you grab your washcloth and begin scrubbing it away. Humming a tone you're not quite sure where you heard as you go. You're too engrossed, and your mind is a little too hazy to notice San slip into the bathroom. He simply watches you for a few moments. Taking in the way the droplets of water run down your shoulders and your melodic voice caresses his ears.

"Need any help with that?"

Embarrassment causes your face to prickle with warmth when the water around you splashes at your startled jump. San at least has the decency to stifle his laughter as he walks over to you. Look far too amused for your liking.

"Jesus San, you scared me. Give a woman a warning," you say, melting into his touch when his strong hands ease themselves onto your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, baby," he doesn't sound all that sorry, and the laughter in his voice is yet to dissipate. Any complaints you have die on your tongue when he begins to knead the stiff muscles of your shoulder. Your eyes fluttering shut and soft moans of appreciation filling the bathroom as he works every knot and ache he can get his hands on.

Stupid hot man with his pretty hands that know how to turn you into a puddle.

"I already washed up earlier but, I thought you'd appreciate a massage," he mutters quietly, drinking in the way you dissolve under his hands. All your brain can manage is a hum in appreciation and acknowledgement of his words. He smiles at that at least he knows he's doing a good job.

You're not sure how much time passes before you're blinking your eyes awake. Your fingers have turned pruney, and your upper back feels tender and looser than it has in months. It's past time to get out of the bath, you think.

"Sannie, I think I'm ready to get out now. Thank you for the massage," you mutter, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm before draining the bathtub and stepping out.

"You're welcome," San responds a little dazed and, acting as though he hasn't seen you in the nude thousands of times at this point. It does wonders for your self-esteem, however.

You suppress a laugh as you wrap your towel around your body, and the trance he was in comes to an end.

"Let's go to bed."

You opt for one of San's older, majorly oversized shirts as your choice of sleepwear for the night. It brings you back to the earlier months of your relationship when he first shyly said you could keep it. He still wore it on occasion, so his scent still lingers on it just the way you love.

For all your teasing at his expense in the bathroom, you find yourself with your tongue tied when your eyes land on his bare torso. His bottom half is not much better since he's wearing boxers that cling to his thighs in a way that causes you to swallow. Hard.

If this is his way of attempting to seduce you, it's working. Maybe a little too well.

Magically, your legs remember how to work, and you manage to walk to your bed without tripping over yourself. If San notices your odd behaviour, he doesn't say much, choosing instead wrap you up in his arms as soon as you're within reach.

Your skin burns everywhere he touches. His fingers drawing nonsensical patterns over your thigh that he's strawn over himself. Your arm naturally drapping over his broad chest. You're surrounded by him and, suddenly you wonder why sleep was on your mind in the slightest.

"It was nice getting to spend some one on one time with you," he says, his eyes swallowing you whole when he sets them on you. You'll never understand how he manages to lace the most mundane comments with so much intensity.

"Mmm, I've missed it too," you confess, and it's true. Between the chaotic nature of both of your jobs and a child to raise, you two rarely have nights such as tonight for yourselves. Perhaps it's fondness or a simple want to that drives you to press a delicate kiss to his jaw.

Your insides twist themselves into knots when San's eyes turn heavy, he searches your face for something before speaking, "Are you tired?"

His intent couldn't be more clear if he literally spelled it out for you.

"No."

His hand drifts from your thigh to cup your face. His thumb dragging itself along your bottom lip and the temptation to take it into your mouth is visceral. However, you choose to see what he does instead with baited breath. His eyes follow the trail of his thumb as though it's the most significant sight in the world. You may just lose your mind if he doesn't just kiss you.

Fortunately for you, San doesn't keep you waiting for long. He kisses you slowly, a far cry from the months of hurried, frenzied kisses before either of you have to start your day or your daughter wakes up from one of her naps. Hands snaking between thighs to make sure you're wet and he's hard enough because quickies are the majority of what you've had the time and energy for.

Tonight, however, San kisses you as though you two have all of the time in the world. His thumb tracing your jaw as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. He even has the audacity to laugh when you whimper into him because of the intrusion. His laughter doesn't last, however, a strangled groan leaving him when you lightly nip his bottom lip.

A startled gasp flies from you when he rolls you on your back. His eyes are lidded and dark with barely restrained want as he looks down at you. This time, the way he kisses you is decidedly less tender. He doesn't hesitate to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

His muscular arms cage you in and, it's difficult to tell who moans louder when his half hard cock presses against your bare pussy. "You're not wearing anything?" He mutters against your jaw, sloppily kissing any skin he can as he slowly grinds against you. It's not easy to find your words with how all encompassing he is. Your nails biting into his shoulders. God, when did he get so jacked?

"No," you moan out finally when his teeth trace your pulse point and he brushes your clit, "I'm not." Some kissing and grinding and, you can already feel yourself getting wet. It really has been longer than you care to think about.

"Oh, you wanted this then," he breathes, one of his hands dragging up your body. His hand cups one of your breasts over his shirt, his thumb dragging circles over your nipple that pokes through the fabric, and that prompts your hips to jolt up into him. A drawn out whimper of his name ringing out through your bedroom, "You could've just said so, baby. I'd happily fuck you."

Between his ministrations, words and the petname, your walls clench hard around nothing. "San," is all your brain can supply at the moment. Your back arching when he playfully pinches your nipple between his fingers.

"Poor baby," he coos into your throat between licks and kisses, "Already so worked up. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." You don't have the presence of mind to bite back a whine when he separates himself from you. The amused smirk that spreads on his face twists the knife of arousal deeply embedded in your gut. He doesn't stay away from you for long. His hands impatiently tugging your sleeping shirt over your head and, tossing it somewhere on your bedroom floor.

You rarely feel shy with San. You've never had a reason to but, sometimes, when his face softens and he looks at you like he can't quite believe you're real and naked in front of him like he is now, the urge to cover your face does crop up.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers so quietly that you almost think he didn't mean to verbalise that particular thought. His kisses along your collarbone are featherlight, barely there as he trails his way down to your breasts. Your fingers weave themselves in his hair, and your breathing grows increasingly laboured when he kisses the tops of them. His eyes find yours through the locks of his hair when he licks at your nipple slowly.

Yours nearly flutter shut. Your body instinctively pressing into him to feel more. To feel as much as you possibly can. You tug on his hair harsher than you intend to when he finally envelopes it in his warm, wet mouth. His appreciative groan going straight to your clit. No matter how many times you've been with each other, San is ever the starved man. He sucks and licks and fondled as though he might die if he doesn't have as much of you as he can. For your part, all you can do is squirm and writhe, ever tug adding to the slick smearing your inner thighs.

He leaves your breast with a pop that is louder than strictly necessary. His eyes almost appear black when the search for yours again. The glazed quality to them makes you want to rub your thighs together but, he's firmly slotted between them. He holds your gaze as he kisses down your torso. Your breath hitching when he kisses just above your swollen clit.

"You smell so good," he moans and, you finally noticing him rutting against the mattress. God, if you weren't already beyond worked up. That thought is swiftly knocked out of your when when he does take his first lick of you. It's slow and drawn out. Starting from your dribbling entrance and ending at your clit. You never stood a chance.

Something broken and animalistic bubbles out of San's chest then. His hold on your thighs firm. Keeping you exactly where and how he wants you so you can't squirm away from him. A pitchy keen echoes throughout your bedroom when he fully wraps his lips around your clit. Years of experience making him an expert at pushing you to the the edge of your sanity in a matter of mintures. You're not quite sure what to do with your hands. They're restless. Not sure whether you want to claw at the sheets or play with your breasts but, you eventually settle on familiar territory. Electing to wind them in his dark locks once again.

They tug especially hard when his fingers toy with your weeping entrance. Collecting your arousal in his fingertips and swallowly thrusting into you. You both know that's not nearly enough for you and you whine brokenly, tugging on his hair harder. Prompting a moan from him and the vibrations sending shudders from the top of your spine to your extremities.

"San please," you finally cry out, bucking your hips into his face, "Your fingers. Please, please-"

You nearly choke on your spit when he complies. Pushing two fingers into gradually until he's knuckles deep inside of you. You're beyond wet so the stretch is minimal, but there's still enough of one to prompt some whimpers from you. He distracts with that stupidly skillful mouth of his. Drawing patterns on your clit with his tongue he knows will render you devoid of thought.

Your body jerks harshly when he moves his fingers. The first curls of them inside of you are so, so good. However, when San finds the part of your walls that makes it feel as though your vision goes white for a second, that's when it's truly all over for you. He's ruthless. Rubbing against over and over and over again as his mouth does not relent in the slightest on your poor clit. Licking and sucking with one clear-cut goal in mind. If you somehow had the strength to keep your eyes open, you'd notice his eyes watching you intently. Drinking in every pinch of your brows and the way your pretty mouth is stuck in a permanent O. The ache in his jaw is nothing compared to any of that.

San is rewarded for his unrelenting consistently when your grip in his hair grows even harsher, to the point where it starts to sting but, he couldn't care less because you're cumming on his face and around his fingers. One of his hands shoots up to, unfortunately, cover your mouth because you were getting loud. He doesn't want to risk waking up your daughter, but he continues to lap at you and finger you through your release, albeit less intensely.

"San," you whine weakly against his hand when your consciousness trickles back into your body. Lightly tugging his face away from him. He whines but, otherwise doesn't put up much of a fight. Removing his hand from your mouth, he gradually removing his fingers from your walls and parting from your pussy with one final kiss.

Sometimes, in the private parts of your mind, you wonder if he'd ever let you take a picture of him like this. Eyes completely glassy with your wetness smeared across his nose, lips and chin, and a pretty flush colouring his tan skin. Without much of a second thought, you tug him towards you. The taste of yourself on his lips is a little salty, but it's not unpleasant. Maybe it's a little narcissistic to admit, but it kind of adds fuel to the fire in your core. San kisses you back fiercely as though his jaw hadn't been working for who knows how long. His erection is scorching and heavy against your thigh as he grinds against you shallowly.

Considering how distracted he is, it's easy to roll him onto his back. He blinks up at you in surprise and he just looks so cute you have to kiss him. So you do. Pressing kisses along his jaw as your fingernails drag along his muscular torso. You really don't know when he got this muscular or, how he even had the time to but, you're not complaining.

"You're so beautiful, Sannie," you whisper in his ear. Biting back a giggle when he flushes a deeper shade of pink and squirms underneath you, "Thank you," he mutters, but it's barely loud enough for you to hear. You manage somehow anyway.

The muscles in his abdomen jump when your fingers ghost over them. Now it's your turn to toy with him. Snapping the waistband of his boxers and delighting in the way it makes him grow more and more restless.

"Please touch me," he begs, and when he looks at you with his pretty, brown eyes and the pout he knows you're a weakling against, how could you ever say no?

You shuffle lower and drag his boxers off of him, he lifts his hips to help you along the way and his cock smacks against toned abdomen. Your walls instinctively clench hard at the sight of his cock, flushed a deep red and glistening with pre-cum that's streaked his stomach, before you even unceremoniously dispose of his boxers.

You straddle him. Leaning down to press a kiss to his lips again which he readily accepts, his hands gripping your hips hard enough that you wouldn't be surprised if his fingerprints were burned into your skin. The moan he let's out against your lips when your wet slit glides along his cock worsens the emptiness you feel but, it's always so enjoyable watching him lose his composure. Your nails dig into his shoulders with ever brush and bump against your clit, your hips picking their pace as you chase your own pleasure.

"Fuck," he groans out gutturally, "Stop teasing please."

"Well, what do you want, baby?" You ask with a faux confused tilt of your head, dragging your teeth along his neck as you continue to cover him in your arousal. You know you're probably going to pay for this later but, you'll have your fun for now.

"Fuck me, please" Well, when he asks so cutely, how could you ever deny him?

You pull away from him and grip him in your hand. He's even hotter in your palm, and his weight makes saliva pool in your mouth, but that can wait for another time. He's already more than slick enough for you so you decide to end both of your respective miseries and slowly sink down onto him.

It's been a week, maybe, since the last time you felt him inside of you, so the stretch this time does take you some adjusting. He's so thick, and even after so long, sometimes you need to take a second. San is patient as ever, even though his cock twitches with ever centimetre you manage to sink down on. That and the way his hold on your grows more desperate are the only indicators of his restraint, but he watches your face and body like a hawk. Making sure it's not too much for you.

You unintentionally claw at his abs when your ass final comes to rest on his firm thighs. Honestly, your body is still reeling from your orgasm and your thighs feel closer to jello, but you want to ride him for as long as you can. You crack your eyes open when the overwhelming sensation of him being sheathed inside of you mostly subsides, and the sight San creates reminds you why you wanted to do this in this first place.

His eyes already look so fucked out, he's barely keeping them open. However, they're open nonetheless, and his gaze is laser focused between your thighs. Utterly enraptured with watching himself completely inside of you. And his face contorts beautifully when you rise up before slowly sinking back down onto him.

His hands drift from your hips to hold onto your thighs when you find your rhythm. You can already feel the fatigue beginning to settle into your thighs with every bounce on his cock but, watching the way his brows pinch in pleasure and his moans caress your ears is enough to motivate you to keep going.

His can't seem to decide where to focus. They alternate between watching your face and the mirade of expressions that flit across it, watching the way your breasts bounce in time with your rhythm on him and watching the way his cock splits you open over and over again. Glistening with your wetness that trickles down him onto the sheets beneath the two of you.

Despite the tiredness creeping up on you, San feels good. Great, even, like he always does. One of the best parts of riding him is that you've mastered angling yourself just right that every brush of his cock sends your nerves alight. You thought maybe it would be too soon but, one of your hands leaves his abs to rub frantic circles into your clit. It's so difficult to focus on maintaining the pace you set, but you try. Despite your mind being hazy and desperate for the chance to cum again. Cum around him this time.

San doesn't complain in the slightest. In fact, based on the whines that hit your eardrums, the way his hands help you continue bouncing on him as best as you can and his cock twitches incessantly, he's happy to watch you and let you use him to cum again.

"Are you going to cum again for me, baby?" He breathes, focusing his attention fully on the apex of your thighs this time around. Shallowly thrusting up into you and taking in the way your fingers frantically rub your clit to bring yourself over the edge. He steadies himself when all you can respond with are nods and whimpers. Your eyes shut tightly as you focus on nothing but, your release.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, "Using me to get yourself off. Please cum for me, baby. I want to watch you."

His words slam into you like a runaway train, and so does your oragsm. You couldn't maintain your pace on him even if you tried. Your thighs shake violently around him and the shudders spread throughout your entire body, your extremities curling into themselves. You try your best not to dig your nails into his skin too harshly but, your mind isn't all that there with you right now. Your walls clamping down like a vice around him so tightly that he can't thrust into you all that much.

Typically, San would happily let you ride out your climax. Waiting patiently, well as patiently as he can manage, for you to gather some semblance of your bearings. However, a man can only handle so much. He's just as worn thin by your lack of intimacy as you are. He knows it's no one's fault, the responsibilities of being adults and parents have just taken priority but, it hasn't been easy for him either. Feeling and drinking in the sight of you cumming for him drives him to roll you onto your back. Your hazy eyes blink up at him as you attempt to piece together what's happening.

"Do you need a minute?" He asks, well, more like pants, into your ear. He's still slotted firmly inside of and his body practically shakes with how much he's holding himself back from pumping you full of his cum right now. Your higher order functions gradually come back to you, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you before responding, "Hm, no. I'm okay."

That's seemingly all San needs because he hooks your legs over his elbows and starts to move. Given how long he's been holding out for, it's no surprise that his thrusts are merciless from the offset. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and his heavy balls smacking your ass and, your intertwined moans ring out through your bedroom once again.

He looks so gorgeous with the way his hair sticks to his sweat forehead and his face is blissed out beyond belief. The slight burn in your thighs from the way he has you folded is worth it both because of how much he's enjoying himself and how deeply it pushes him. You doubt you can cum again so soon but, your weakly spasming walls still milk him for everything he's worth.

Based on the way his breathing increases and his grip on you is well beyond bruising coupled with his increasing moans and his precise thrusts morph into sloppy ones, he's close. The thought forces a whimper from you and your pussy clenches around him harder, "Are you going to cum for me, Sannie?" You moan directly into his ear. Your hands caressing his firm pecs and admiring them momentarily before circling his nipples. If your pussy wasn't being abused by him you'd giggle at the way he jolts, his hips jerking into you with every brush. A keen greeting your ears when you tug on them a little harder.

"I- I'm-" his words, or lack thereof, come out in a jumbled, throaty mess.

"Please? I want it so badly, baby," which isn't untrue, but you know the effect these words have on you like no other, "You're going to cum inside me, right?"

In the mess of words that you're able to register you can make out some mixture of your name, 'fuck', 'please' and 'yes' but, everything else is swallowed by his noises of pleasure as his cock throbs inside of you and ropes of his cum paint your waiting walls white. You don't think you'll ever tire of that feeling. Him pressed so close to and his lips brushing against your skin with every desperate noise that leaves his mouth while he rides out his release.

"San," you wheeze out, "San, baby, as much as I love you my thighs hurt."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," he says, unhooking your legs from his arms, and your muscles feel significantly less strained. You know the two of you need to start cleaning up, his cum is already starting to trickle out of you, and you definitely need to pee at some point, but you're far too comfortable and relaxed to find the desire to move a millimetre right now.

"I missed this," he mutters into your shoulder, pressing sporadic kisses to whatever skin he has access to.

"I missed this too," you whisper in response, if you speak any louder part of you is worried this'll be ruined. You pull him a little tighter to you, toying with the ends of his hair.

"If I'm being honest, I'm glad you're finished with your book for many reasons," you can hear the mischievous grin in his voice clear as day, "one of them being that I can now properly fuck my wife."

"You're so ridiculous," you laugh, but you don't disagree with his sentiment.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant 10

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: I had to get this out of my head.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

You drop your phone, shaking with panic and horror. It’s not real. It can’t be. Lois isn’t dead, it’s just an argument, just a fight. You don’t know what you saw.

You were so surprised by the call, you can’t possibly have understood what was going on. It was just so sudden. It didn’t happen.

You stand dumbfounded, unsure what to do next. There's a sickening silence filled with the echoes of Lois' struggle and the piercing timbre of Clark's wrath. You shudder and it rolls through the floor. It takes you a moment to realise that the reverberations are really. Your phone vibrates violently between your feet.

Shit! Shit! What do you do? 

You grab it out of instinct but can't bring yourself to answer the call, knowing before you look who it is. You search the room as if you might find an escape. There is none.

You rush to the bed and shut off the lamp, casting yourself in darkness. You don't think, you let your adrenaline guide you. You roll under your blankets and nestle down, clearing your throat as the call times out. Fuck.

It isn't long before the rattle begins again. You wait a few rings and answer, the small frame where you should be filled with shadow. You murmur groggily, not sure how convincing you really are.

"Hmm, what's going on?" You babble as you rustle in the bed. Clark watches you with an addled expression, his brows furrowed, his eyes almost seem to glow.

"I just called," he gristles out ans rubs the apple in his throat, "you picked up…"

"Wha–I've been sleeping," you cough, pressing yourself into the pillow as your ball your other hand. Your heartbeat hammers in your temples, "my phone was in my bed, maybe…"

"Sleeping?" He mutters as a line dips in his forehead.

"I was waiting for your call and must've fallen asleep," you utter.

"Turn your light on," he demands.

You wince, happy he can't see the fear coursing through you. Now is the real test, you have to play this right. You sit up, doing your best to mess up your appearance before you reach to the lamp. 

"I've been sick all day," you lie and lean back against the headboard, "sorry…"

He's quiet. You try not to look at your image in the corner, instead you focus on him. He's trying to figure it all out.

"Baby," you make your voice as soft as you can, "maybe it's going around. Are you feeling alright?"

He seems struck my the question. He swallows and there's a shift as he sits down, letting out a sigh. He flicks a curl away from his forehead.

"Maybe," he relents as his shoulders drop, "you miss me?"

You stare into the deep blue pools of his eyes. You don't know if he believes you. You put your hand below your throat, his gaze follows the gesture. You rub your chest and force another cough.

"Ugh, yeah," you make yourself lie, "I just feel so cruddy."

"Aw, honey, I wish I was there to take care of you. Maybe I can come home early," he offers, "things aren't going so well here. Lois… is off doing her own thing. I may as well have just stayed behind."

"Oh," you try not to react to her name, "I'm sorry–"

"Sorry…" he repeats, quiet but with a hint of resent, "she… you… you're too sweet." He moves his phone as he hangs his head, "you care so much about me, I just wish… wish it didn't have to be this way."

"Just… get some sleep," you coax, "I'm sure we'll both feel better in the morning."

"You're probably right," he croaks and sits up with a deep snort, "hard to sleep without you here."

"Yeah, I know," you eke out.

"Will you… will you stay on until I fall asleep?" He asks, almost pathetic as his tone cracks.

"Sure," you whisper, "I'll stay on."

You fight the swell of fear deep in your stomach and turn onto your side. You watch the screen as he stands and moves around slowly, almost as if he's dazed. You focus on breathing, on counting each inhale and letting it out slow. You try not to think of what he could do to you if he knew what you saw. 

🖊

You don't sleep. Not even after you end the call at Clark's rumbling snores. You just sit there and stare at the shadows cast against your wall.

You can't just wait for him to come back. This might be your only chance. Didn't this all start because you were afraid of just that, missing a once in a lifetime chance.

You get up before the sun. You don't have a plan, just a first step. One you're not even sure is a good idea.

You draft your resignation and schedule it to be sent on Monday. You pack a single bag, not much, just what you need, and leave your apartment with your phone in hand. You won't miss it, he tainted it.

You head down to the street and walk a full block before working up your courage. You don't know if you should even try. He has no obligation to you. You wouldn't blame him for laughing in your face. But… he was nice.

You hit Richard's profile and wait for the dial to pick up. It's late, or early. You lean against a building as you watch the sky change.

"Brant," he answers with his last name, voice sandy and thick.

"Hey," you squeak, second thoughts bubbling up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't–"

"What's wrong?" He asks, his languid tone rising to urgency, "hey, what's going on?"

"I… I can't…"

You can't tell him. Even with how much you want to. You can't say the words and he wouldn't believe you. Who would? 

"It's… barely three," he yawns, "must be important, so…"

"I…" you sniffle and drag yourself away from the wall, "I need help and you're… the only person I know…"

"You know, I've had a lot of writer's ask me for favours, but they're usually a lot more to the point–"

"I need to hide," you blurt out, "please, before he gets back."

"Who?" He asks.

You're silent. You can't get your thoughts straight. You don't blame him for thinking you're crazy, you must sound it.

"Kent," he says bluntly and you quiver. "What did he do to you?"

You don't answer. He says your name. You can't. You feel like your choking.

"Where are you?" He demands and you can hear him shifting and moving around. 

"I shouldn't have–"

"Tell me," he says as fabric rustles beneath his gravelly voice. 

You whimper and look around. You're by some pawn shop. You give him the name and he sighs.

"Stay there," he orders over the jingle of keys, "please."

🖊

You're numb as you sit in the passenger seat of Richard's car. You remember the last time you were in that very spot. When he dropped you off after dinner and Clark was waiting for you. How long had he truly been waiting to strike? 

How could it have ever got to this?

Richard drives without a word. You barely recall him arriving or getting into the car. Everything around you is blurry. Your own hands feel like weights attached to your arms.

The car slows as you sink back against the seat. His window rolls down with a whir you barely hear. You don't look. He continues on, the motion soothing as you close your eyes and hiccup.

He idles again, motor humming as he daintily touches your arm.

"Got you a tea," he says gently, "hey, take a breath."

Your eyes snap open and you wipe your face, only realising then you're sobbing. You sit forward and sniff, inhaling until it hurts. He lifts a cup from the plastic holder and offers it. You accept it with a murmur and peel back the lid.

"You don't have to go into detail but I'd like to know what is going on," he says as he puts his hand back on the wheel, slowly stepping down on the gas.

You blow out a shuddery heave and gulp. You sip tenuously, wetting your throat as you try to sort through your thoughts. Where do you begin? What do you even say?

"He's scary," your voice creaks, "he's dangerous…" you shake your head and cradle the tea, trying to feel the heat of the cup, trying to cling to it. "He won't leave me alone."

"I kinda figured but Clark's just a bit strange, isn't he?" Richard says, "office flirt."

"It's more than that, he's…insane!"

"He's married, he's not going to do anything more than talk," he scoffs.

Your chest cranks and your stomach lurches. You look at him, sight pinpointing on him, "you…"

"A bit of an overreaction–"

"Why did you come if you don't believe me?"

"Believe what? I have no idea what's gone on. By the sounds of it, he's only having some fun on the side."

"Fun?! He– he is stalking me. He won't go away and now–" you stop short and huff. His chuckle makes you want to scream. He's laughing at you.

"You're laughing at me?" You reach for the door, "stop the car. Now. Let me out."

"It just seems a bit absurd, calling me at the crack of dawn because you have a horndog for a boss–"

"You're not listening to me. It's not just that," you insist, your body buzzing with anger. "Stop the car. Let me out. You–"

"Calm down. Fine, I'm all ears, did he get handsy at the water cooler?"

"Just stop the car."

"Don't be–"

"Stop!" You fling the cup at him and it lands in his lap, exploding and leaking down his pants.

He veers in surprise and the car slides sideways. Suddenly, your seat jolts as something falls onto the roof, crushing it so you're forced down in your seat. You look up and whine, fumbling to undo your seatbelt as a red glare slices through the metal.

Sparks rain down as the laser changes directions, confusion stirring your wits as you watch in dread and sink down onto the floor of the car. Richard grunts beside you and jams his fingers into the buckle of his seatbelt, swearing as it repels.

"What the fuck was that? Fucking–" he gestures to his wet pants in frustration, clueless to what's happening above him.

The metal peels back loudly as you cry out. You shield yourself and holler for Richard to watch out as you see the eerie figure floating above in the half-dim of the early morning. His eyes glow red and his veins are dark beneath his skin. Yet this is not Superman in his rippling cape but a villain in an undone button-up and slacks. It's Clark!

The vaunted caped crusader, the saviour of Metropolis and earth, the elusive good citizen. All along, he's just another twisted monster. He's a nightmare come to life. 

He tosses aside the shorn square of metal as if it's nothing. He grabs Richard and wrenches him off the seat, clutching his jaw and dangling him like a ragdoll. Richard writhes and squirms as Clark's eyes flash. Suddenly a red beam sears into Richard's skull and a rain of bone and tissue tain down around you.

You shriek in terror as blood oozes down onto the interior and Clark drops Richard's corpses into the ruin. His feet plant on the hood and he bends, reaching blindly down to grab you from beneath the dashboard. He hauls you up effortlessly by your arm, lifting you before him as his eyes continue to flare.

You grasp onto his thick forearm as you hang from his unbending grip, "you're supposed to be a hero…" you gasp in disbelief.

"And you're supposed to love me," he snarls.

You close your eyes and raise your arm, waiting for your turn. This is it. The end.

"But I love you," his voice shatters.

He snakes his arm around you and pulls you close. The world bounces and the air tunnels around you. A scream erupts from your lungs as you barrel into the void.

You bury your head in his shoulder, peeking out from the slits of your eyes to see the vast and endless sky all around you. You're flying yet you've never felt so trapped.

[moonmoonthecrabking]

Would you happen to have any good fic recs (can be wip or completed, or some of your own) :D

hi anon!! it really depends on what you're into, though i've been posting more about hatchetfield i'll give you recs for that!! i'm going to sort this by ships, because it works in my mind so!! hope this helps!! not all the fics i like, but here are really truly just some!! especially since i couldn't find some i really liked unfortunately but, such is life. i generally like monstery themes and supernatural elements, so that's going to be a common theme in these recs, but not all of them.

jagertitty (grace x max) shameless self promotion - siren/werewolf au, incomplete, longfic @owlhari - ghost!grace and max meeting for the first time, she saves him from dying in the waylon prank, oneshot prince_doomed - another version of grace's dream of ghost!max?? the description on ao3 does it better, but either way it's very beautifully written, oneshot

lautity (grace x steph) shameless self promotion - tgwdlm au, i had fun, and it was nice to make grace instantly okay with being queer for fucking once, oneshot @vesperione (sorry for the late tag, i came across this scrolling through queer hf and realised i never fixed the post!!) - the fic is called good luck babe, what it says on the tin, gracie is repressed, oneshot @theiloveyousong - first meeting when steph and grace were little kids and adorable and you should read it, oneshot

lautski (steph x pete) @the-spaced-out-ace - pete is a mermaid, and Fun (emotional torture) is to be had, in progress but seemingly coming to a conclusion :) @max-will-one-day-be-okay - vampire steph vampire steph VAMPIRE STEPH- (in progress)

lautskity (grace x steph x pete) @max-will-one-day-be-okay - grace has a sexual fantasy about steph and pete, oneshot, :) @jklovesfandoms - generally great works for this ship, i say start with comfort her (in progress) and go from there :)

paulkins (paul x emma) slytherlynn - this fic is abandoned in the middle of very plotty stuff (so be warned it is incomplete and i doubt it will ever be complete), but it has infected!paul and i remember reading it on the train into high school YEARS ago, and i really like all the character dynamics @hotchocolateboy - very alice woodward centric, slice of life sort of stuff (my girl is going THROUGH it) but i just!! really like it!! in progress @affo-gatto-gateau - mermaid!paul fic, in progress, it's fun i'm enjoying it!! there is lore being set up and i am HERE for it

the npmd jocks (kyle x max, as well as brenda x stacy) @nibblelinephym - stacy and brenda are oblivious lesbians who are in love with each other, oneshot @tnoy-keraxis - a night (so yeah oneshot) where many people are in love and we get a peek into their lives, framed by max and kyle being useless and oblivious and tragic (they aren't useless, it's internalised homophobia)

duke x ted @amethystunarmed - duke is helping ted get custody for pete. duke is going through it. oneshot (part of a series)

i can safely recommend all of these fics, and other fics by these authors (even if they aren't listed here). happy reading!!! and ofc feel free to add recs in the reblogs!!!

[starlightc4t]

honestly... i think im just too nervous to talk about other f/os or things... everyone knows me for liking ben or dave... but i dont always feel content on talking about them solely....

im also just too afraid to talk about OTHER f/os because of too many things. like i love certain characters and all but then im like.... terrified to gush about them cause what if something BAD HAPPENS AND THEY HATE ME FOREVER its actually really infuriating.... which is probably why i feel better gushing privately without fear

idk yeah i love dave and ben but i also love other f/os that i really want to gush and talk about ... and if i wanna enjoy and be happy with myself i should gush about those characters too

idk! honestly, lately, i think gushing and enjoying myself privately has been helpful and this blog may even be ten times MORE helpful because of it ^_^ i dont have so many eyes on me or something idk.... i just get nervous and anxious all the time because people expect something of you when you truly do not really want to do something. does that make sense? like to me, i love characters because they make me happy and feel safe. idk thats kind of just how i always viewed characters that i absolutely adore and love. i also think it goes with relating to them too but i guess thats also a bonus ^^;;

idk! i think this blog is going to be very helpful for me to gush without having so many eyes on me, or hundreds of people breathing down my neck even if that makes no sense it FELT LIKE THAT COMPLETELY

i can also like.... reblog hc stuff or fics on here too from other f/os and make newer and cuter tags too for them how fun!

and ALSO realise i can type more on here than on my other blog because theres no like..... fear of judgement or criticism or something. idk i guess i just have intense fear of rejection to a point it stunts me a lot on the main selfship blog lol. this ones going to be chill :] or i hope so....

the other is just me going to reblog things and post sometimes on it but ill try to post gushing more on here than the other site im on cause then ill get used to being on here too! who knows! lets just start off small and move our way up.... idk how to start small though ill figure it out

LOL THIS POST IS SO LONG HYSTERICAL FOR ME can you tell my personality blossoms a bit more when not a dozen of eyes are on me insane right

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He���s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[simsadventures]

Mellow Hearts

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky take a vacation by the ocean, happy to just spend some quality time together by the beach. 

Warnings: fluff, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY)- lovemaking, sweet and tender you guys, nothing animalistic this time

Word Count: 1186

A/N: Some shorter Bucky action for my lovely followers. This is also a super late fic for my friend’s Laura’s @imanuglywombat​ writing challenge #uglywombat4Kchallenge, where I picked the song by Nick Murphy- Talk is Cheap (Talk is cheap my darling/ When you’re feeling right at home/ I wanna make you move with confidence/ I wanna be with you alone,) and the moodboard Beach, which is the picture for this fic. Anyway, enjoy my lovely people, and once again, congrats Laura for reaching such an amazing milestone. 

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist 

His heart beat against your skin, and you couldn’t believe this was happening. Life had been hectic in the past few months, and there were rare moments you and your man could spend together, let alone together for longer than 24 hours. So, the chance of going on a vacation for a week, where you didn’t have to worry about being called to a mission and not seeing Bucky for a week minimum. 

To have him in your arms now was priceless. It was the whole aura in the room that got you going ever since you arrived. The hotel was situated near the beach, so much so that you could taste the salt in the air coming from the ocean when you opened up the French windows. Bucky mentioned multiple times that you tasted a bit salty, but that he enjoyed it immensely because it was something new. And he was all in for trying novelties with you, especially when it came to you and the taste of your skin. 

Seeing Bucky in this new environment, where he didn’t have to be the Sargent, always alert and ready to fight any danger that would come his way. But here he was calm and in peace, smiling freely and not caring about his diet like he did back in New York. He was his best self when he was out of the team, and you often wondered if it weren’t better for you two to just retire after so many years serving the world, and leave for some quiet place wherever he would like, and just live happily there. 

But Bucky thought it was too soon after all that had happened with Thanos, and you let him call the shots because you really didn’t mind either. What you did mind, however, was when he wasn’t rested and happy, and so you pushed on Sam to just let you two off the hook for at least a week so that you could get your strength back. And as even the always-blind Sam saw, Bucky needed to get his mind back into peace, so he let you two go. 

That’s how you found yourselves on the coast of Spain, sitting on the bed by the open balcony door, staring deep into each other’s eyes. 

When you woke up that morning, you felt quite sore from the escapades of the previous days, both in the room and, quite dangerously, even on the beach and in the sea, because, as the trip showed, Bucky was quite the exhibitionist and the idea of getting caught thrilled him to the bone. You didn’t mind some semi-public action either since you knew Bucky and his super-hearing and super-strength would hear anybody actually coming near you and would carry you to safety. 

Bucky was worried that he hurt you from the low moans escaping you in the morning, but you relentlessly assured him that you were okay, just a little sore here and there. When the information finally hit his brain, he realised he didn’t have to go sex-free for the day, and the mood changed quickly. But unlike all the other days, when you two acted almost purely on animalistic instinct, this morning you craved a deeper connection. 

Sitting on top of Bucky who was sitting as well with your legs entangled around his torso, you threw your head back as Bucky’s hips moved from left to right, creating friction on your sensitive clit that you so needed. He always knew what your body was asking for and was very quick to deliver. 

Sweat was glistening on your skins, and in the light of the early morning sun, Bucky looked more beautiful than ever. And you were sure to tell him over and over again. 

“You’re so handsome like this, Buck. Fuck, if you could only feel what my heart feels. It’s so full when I’m looking at you, your pupils blown and your lips just a little redder because of my kisses. You look so happy, and my heart literally swells my love,” you moaned as you ground your hips against his, and Bucky hissed in pleasure. You could even feel his cock do a little jump at your praise. 

It was a long time ago that you found your spot boy had a praise kink, and you used that to both your and his advantage. Every word of love you said was the truth, which made it that more alluring to Bucky. 

“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this, riding me gently and just staring in my eyes. I feel like I’m staring right into your soul, and do you know what I see? My home. We don’t need to speak, because I often feel like talk is cheap, but I know you, and I know your heart, and you are my home. Fuck, I love you so much!” Bucky was speaking through his teeth, the pleasure taking over his speech, but you appreciated his effort. 

And he was right, you were each other’s home no matter where you found yourselves. This was more than love; this was the complete conjunction of souls. Each move he made was felt not only in your pussy but also in your heart, because of the way he looked at you. Like he would do anything for you. His actions spoke louder than the words, and each thrust of his hips sent you both closer to your climaxes. 

What Bucky saw in your eyes was taking his breath away. You were confident in your love for him, which you conveyed with each little kiss, each little nip at his lips and his neck. Your eyes showed him how deep your love ran that it was interlaced with the very essence of you, and when the realisation hit him, that you were utterly and entirely his, most probably forever, he came with a loud grunt and stutter of his hips, triggering your own orgasm so much, so you shouted and fell into his open arms, where his erratic but happy heart awaited you. 

“We should take time off like this more often, doll, I think it suits us,” he said to your hair, and you chuckled at the relaxed expression on his face when you looked up. 

“Yeah, I think making love three times a day on a daily basis does suit us,” you smirked, and Bucky pinched your side but still laughed with you. 

“We should hit the beach soon if we want to catch some good spots, doll,” Bucky mused, and you just hummed, not really sold on the idea of leaving the comfort of neither the room and Bucky’s arms. He tried to make a move towards the bathroom, but your arms held him so tight he gave up the idea of leaving very shortly after feeling your arms locking behind his back. You wanted him near, and he would give you anything you asked for. Because he would do anything to be with you alone, and he wished this vacation never ended. Maybe leaving the guns behind wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Taglist in reblogs (trying to make these tags work!! Ugh, Tumblr!!)

[talatomaz]

beautiful | diana prince x fem!reader

a/n: happy new year !! this takes place during 1984 but before the actual plot of the movie happens. this is really long so sorry in advance

warnings: mentions of attempted assault. sexual references

word count: 3.4k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader is a woc and works at the smithsonian as an antiques realtor. after they receive several artefacts specific to ancient mediterranean culture, she enlists the help of diana prince, a senior anthropologist. reader works closely with her and finds herself starting to develop feelings for her and one day, she’s saved by a mysterious female heroine and figures out diana is not all she claimed to be

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Thank you.”

You smiled to the delivery boy as you showed him where to place the fragile artefacts the museum had just received. It was your job to evaluate whether they were of any value, and if so, whether it was more prudent for them to be sold to someone else or put on display for people to visit.

The moment you were left alone, you’d opened the smallest box in order to determine where these artefacts were from, more specifically, when. You picked up, what appeared to be, a device of some sorts, fit with several random gears. Evaluating the rust and corrosion, you noted on your clipboard that this may have been a Cypriot artefact from the early Bronze Age.

As you made your way through the other boxes, you were about a quarter of the way through when you noticed that all of these antiquities appeared to originate from the Mediterranean. And you knew the perfect person to help explain more about their culture to you.

You gently placed the artefact you were currently examining back in its respective box, locked your office door and made your way to the senior anthropologist who was an expert on the culture.

Lifting a closed fist, you lightly knocked on the door and waited patiently for the door to open, smiling at the person who stood in the door frame when it did.

“Afternoon Miss Prince, are you free for a quick chat?”

You didn’t know Diana Prince all that well, having only interacted on a number of occasions but each time you had, she was incredibly kind and friendly. She had been at the museum longer than you had and was one of the first people to introduce themselves to you and make you feel welcome.

Honestly, there wasn’t much that you knew about her.

She was an enigma.

In the broadest of terms, that was.

By definition, an enigma is someone who is mysterious and difficult to understand.

Now, whilst the brunette was definitely mysterious, she was, by no means, difficult to understand.

One look in her eyes and you immediately saw her for all that she was.

She may not have said more than 5 words to you, but her eyes told you a story. Someone who had gone through immense hurt but remained kind and bright, even in the darkest of times.

Her eyes were beautiful, as was the rest of her. Though that did seem like an oversimplification. She was a goddess, as if sculpted by the Gods themselves - how true that was, you didn’t know yet - and despite that, she never seemed to let her beauty be her one overriding factor. She was extremely smart and intelligent and so much more. Which was why you enlisted her help.

“Of course. Please take a seat.” She said, smiling when you did. “So, how can I help you, Miss L/N?”

“Please, call me y/n. Miss L/N makes me sound like my mother.” You joked.

“Well, then please call me Diana.” She replied in her accent that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

You nodded, “So I’ve just recently come into possession of some ancient artefacts. As you know, I’m required to estimate their value and decide what the museum should do with them. However, it seems that the artefacts I’ve currently examined, all appear to be specific to Mediterranean culture. Now considering you’re our resident expert on that, I figured-”

“That I could come and help you determine it’s authenticity and explain more about them.” Diana finished.

“Exactly. But if you’re too busy, I compl-”

“No, it’s okay.” She interrupted quickly. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I’d be happy to help. I’m glad you came to me, y/n.”

Your lips curved in a smile as you fought to keep the blush that would have certainly risen to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” You asked, standing up, about to head back to your office.

“Lead the way.”

***

For the next month or so, you found yourself working quite closely with the anthropologist, the Smithsonian board having told you both that they wanted you to help create a display for the artefacts to be put on show for the community. Though that meant more work for you, you were secretly grateful because, truth be told, you found yourself developing feelings for the brunette. But you never said a word, knowing she wouldn’t feel the same about you.

You were working late one night, about to leave, before you noticed the light that was on in one of the hallways. Apart from you, you knew that the only person who’d ever stay this late at the museum was Diana. Her, seemingly more committed to her job than you once realised.

Knocking on the door, you waited until you heard a quiet “come in” before entering the office room.

Neatly placed around the room were several boxes, more than likely filled with paperwork and published papers. Her navy leather sofa sat at the far end of the room with a coat draped over one of the arm rests. In front of you, was Diana’s desk. It was as tidy as the rest of the room, papers orderly placed at the ends of the desk, a small lamp placed at the corner and a computer which Diana had been typing on.

Her face softened into a smile when she saw you and she sat up against her chair.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up?”

“Not much. I was just about to head home but since I saw your light on, I figured I’d come by and say goodnight.”

“That’s sweet. Since you’re here, why don’t I walk you out? I was planning on going home myself.”

“Sounds good.”

She grabbed her coat from the sofa and put it on. After locking her door, she walked beside you towards the entrance of the museum.

“You know, it’s a beautiful night and it’s not that late either, why don’t we get dinner?”

You stopped in your path for a brief moment before continuing to walk.

She was asking you to dinner.

Holy shit.

You knew it wasn’t a date since you had had several dinners together whilst working at the artefacts.

But the idea that it could have been still excited you.

And terrified you.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

You had eaten at this cute restaurant, sitting outdoors so you could both bask in the stars. You’d fallen into easy conversation with the brunette, never experiencing any awkwardness or uncomfortable silences. You talked about nothing and everything; every time you made her laugh, you couldn’t help but smile yourself because her laughter was genuine and brought warmth to you.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight, Diana.”

“Me too. I know you don’t get out much so I figured you deserved a break.”

“Hey! What do you mean ‘I don’t get out much’?” You said, feigning being offended while truthfully, you were failing to hide a laugh.

“I’m not judging. Just...making an observation.” Diana laughed.

“Hmm sure. Well, how about you? Are you out often?”

“No, not really.”

“Wow. Now look who’s not a social butterfly.” You joked.

“Yep, we’re just two peas in a pod, huh y/n?” Diana said, smirking when she saw a light blush of red on your cheeks.

***

After that night, you found yourself regularly going out to dinner with Diana and it was getting harder to hide how you felt.

Sometimes, you had a sliver of hope that she felt the same way because she would make excuses to touch you, whether it be gently brushing her hand against yours or stroking her hand against your arm.

But you immediately quelled those thoughts. There was no way someone as beautiful, sweet and smart as Diana would like you.

Shaking your head, as if to rid the thoughts from your mind once more, you walked through the alley that was a shortcut to your apartment.

Abruptly, you felt yourself pushed up against the brick wall, a knife against your throat. You fought the urge to scream, knowing any movement with the sharp blade that close to you would certainly result in bleeding.

“Good girl. Be quiet and don’t scream. Otherwise the next piece of trash left in this alley will be you.”

The moon allowed for you to get a better look at the man holding himself against you. You only saw his face, however, his mouth curved into a creepy smile, reminiscent of Dr Seuss’ The Grinch.

“You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” Even his voice felt slimy, bringing a look of disgust on your face.

“Fuck off.” You said, showing no fear. Oddly, you found yourself feeling calm. Some people may fight and others may flee. But of course, you taunt and curse.

“Oh, you’re going to be fun.”

You readied yourself for anything that may happen, waiting for the opportunity where the blade’s pressure would lighten, allowing you to kick this guy and run away.

But before you could, you felt all pressure against you immediately leave. Looking up, you caught a glimpse of a woman in armour pulling the man off you with, what appeared to be, a glowing yellow rope. The man still held within the rope, she jumped up on the roof and disappeared.

But not before the moonlight had provided some clarity as to who this mysterious figure was.

It was her eyes.

You had difficulty sleeping that night. It was not the attempted assault that had kept you up though, it was the woman who had saved you. You recognised her eyes but the more you thought about it, the more perplexed you became. There was no way Diana was whoever this woman was. But it was her eyes.

This back and forth continued til sunrise when you finally decided to push it from your mind. Yes, her eyes may have been familiar but you hadn’t seen her face nor heard her voice. And if, and when you did, you would then make an assumption as to who she was.

***

“Morning, y/n.”

You looked up to see Diana standing outside your office door, dressed in a simple pantsuit that she somehow made look glamorous.

“Morning, Diana.”

“How are you? Are you okay?”

You carefully noted the thinly veiled concern in her tone before answering.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brow raised in question.

“No reason. Just wondering.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve just been finalising some things for the display tonight.”

Time had flown by and you were disheartened when you realised it meant the two of you wouldn’t be seeing each other as often; the two of you would go back to your own lives and separate work.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, having been broken from your thoughts when you saw real concern on her face.

“Yeah?”

“You went a bit dazed there for a moment. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her head tilted in question, her hand lifting to gently caress your arm.

“Yeah, sorry. Come on, let’s finish off this display.”

You had trouble focusing whilst you worked, eyes constantly glancing over at Diana, your mind wondering. You knew that even if she was who you thought she was, it had no effect on how you felt about her. She was still the same Diana that you knew.

Just...more badass than you’d first thought.

The two of you left the museum early evening so you could get ready for the gala the Smithsonian was putting on to show off their new Mediterranean display.

Whilst you had put quite a few antiques up for sale to various buyers and other museums, the large majority of them you had advised the board to keep; explaining how, in the long run, it’d prove more valuable.

You got dressed in a black dress that was hemmed below your knees, a low but classy ‘v’ cut shaped plunged neckline to reveal a small diamond necklace that matched with your earrings. You rarely wore makeup but tonight was an exception so your lips were painted a deep red that complemented your tanned skin and your hair was left free, light curls bouncing against your back.

Once you had arrived back at the Smithsonian, you made your way to your boss and the rest of the board who complimented yours and Diana’s work.

You looked around, wondering where the latter was.

As if summoned by sheer thought alone, Diana appeared beside you; her appearance leaving your throat dry. She was dressed in a long navy dress, a long slit in the side showing off her toned legs. She wore a gold bracelet around her wrist, her lips painted bright red, her curly hair surrounding her face.

“You look stunning, Diana.”

“Thank you. You look beautiful too.” Her smile reaching her eyes.

The next couple of hours were spent rotating around the guests and several investors who commended the both of you on your work whilst simultaneously making sizeable donations to the museum.

Truth be told, you hated this part of the gala. You believed that people should appreciate the art rather than wanting to line up their own pockets. It was the main reason you often avoided company events such as these but since tonight was something you’d organised, you needed to be there.

You were currently speaking with an older male whom you knew was an avid investor. Diana had been pulled aside by another investor who wanted to know more about a certain piece of art.

As you engaged in a polite conversation with the man, you felt a shift in his tone as he became more untoward with you. His words were slurring slightly, having consumed several glasses of champagne, and he starting to make inappropriate advances by grabbing your hand or saying wildly unprofessional things.

“Mr Woodbury, I appreciate your interest in me but I do not feel the same way and I’d appreciate it if you could stop with the advances.” You explained as politely as you could when, in reality, you were trying to hide your anger.

“Darling, you’re a pretty little thing and I could give you the night of your life.” He leered at you, leaning closer towards you.

A strong hand pushed him back, “she said ‘no’”

There was no need to even face the person enunciating each word; you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

“Miss Prince, we’re having a private conversation.”

Diana stood beside you, her body turned so she faced the both of you.

“I suggest you leave before I have you removed from the building. And if you ever bother y/n again, I promise you, you will regret it. And a promise is unbreakable.”

The male withered under her stare and slithered away from view. You glanced up at Diana, who towered over you, even more so in her heels, and saw the controlled fury in her eyes.

The way the light of the room shone on her face and illuminated her eyes forced yourself in the memory of the night of your attempted assault.

The realisation hit you like a train.

This was the confirmation that you needed.

It was her.

“Y/N?”

You stared into her eyes, unable to tear yourself from her.

“Y/N?” Diana repeated, resting her hand against your cheek. The warmth of her skin against yours brought you back to reality.

“Y-You. I-”

You stumbled over your words, unable to string any words together to form a coherent sentence.

“Come with me.”

Not waiting for a response, Diana took your hand in hers and led you back to her office. She closed the door, locking it behind her and switching on her lamp so the room wasn’t completely dark.

You stood in front of her, still unsure of what to say.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird all day. What’s wrong?” She asked, her concern evident in her tone.

“You’re her.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Her. The one who saved me last night.”

You watched as Diana’s eyes flickered with panic. It was only for a brief moment and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking.

Her mouth opened as if ready to disprove any of your thoughts before closing it again when she saw the look on your face.

“How did you know?” She sighed.

“Your eyes.”

“I’m sorry?” She repeated.

“Your eyes. They were the same. Since the moment I met you, the first thing I noticed were your eyes. The way they sparkled with kindness but I could still see the hurt behind it. They’re beautiful.” Your voice faltered as you finished speaking.

“Um, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said that. I-I’ll go.”

As you were about to walk out of her office, she moved to block the door.

“Don’t go.” Her accent came out strong.

“Diana, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Look, I appreciate you working with me these past couple of months. It’s been a great help. We can just forget this happened and just go back to our lives.” You suggested, walking back to the centre of the room.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Her words came out in a low whisper, the huskiness of her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“W-what?” You swallowed dryly.

“I said, what if I don’t want to forget?” She repeated, walking closer to you whilst you unconsciously backed away slowly until stopping when your back hit her desk.

“I’ve loved spending time with you, y/n. You’ve become extremely important to me. And seeing that guy trying to hit on you earlier angered me because you’re not his. You’re mine.”

Your eyes widened. Though you’d never seen this side of Diana before, you were extremely turned on; a warmth spreading through you.

Diana continued, smiling at the noticeable effect she had on you.

“I know you feel the same way. I see the way you look at me and the way you blush when I catch you staring. You know me. The other me. You’re beautiful and I like you, y/n. A lot.”

You licked your lips and then lightly bit your bottom lip, once again speechless. Never in a million years did you think she’d like you back.

You decided words weren’t going to be enough and instead, you gathered your courage, the alcohol helping you in that respect, and closed the distance between you.

It was a light kiss, practically a peck, just to test the waters as they say but it still felt right.

You pulled away and leaned back against the desk. There was a look in her eye that you couldn’t quite distinguish but before you had any time to dwell on it, Diana instantly kissed you back, this time with more fervour.

She lifted you onto the desk as if you weighed nothing and with her strength, you probably didn’t. Her hands gripped the sides of your waist, steadying you, as you opened your legs wider so she could move between them.

Your arms wrapped around her neck pulling her deeper into you. She tugged your bottom lip between her teeth, not hard enough to make you wince but definitely enough to make you moan.

You felt her smirk against your lips as her hands moved upwards from bracketing your hips to the side of your breasts. She continued the motion before kissing you one final time and reluctantly pulled away.

Your breath came out in a pant, trying to get as much oxygen back into your lungs as possible.

“That was-”

“Amazing.” Diana finished.

You still sat atop of her desk, not having enough energy to move as of yet, and you were sure your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up either after that heavy make out session.

Diana rested her hands against your waist once more before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

How she went from being so full of passion and heat to being so gentle and sweet, you’d never know. You had a feeling she was going to keep you on your toes.

“As much as I didn’t want to stop, we still have people to see. What do you say we talk to a few more guests and then we can go back to my place and finish what we started?”

Diana asked, stroking your cheek with her thumb as her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’m never going to figure you out, am I?” You said light-heartedly, as you came to your feet.

Diana held your hand in hers and walked to the door,

“I don’t know. I’d say you know me pretty well already.”

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. I - Jab

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 4k REQUESTED: not exactly lol

hey everyone! this is PART 1 of the boxer!harry AU i’ve been working on. i was so inspired by this concept that i wrote it all in one day lol. if u enjoy reading it, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated! it really helps in terms of motivation and just knowing how my readers feel about this story in general. so yeah, that would really make my month!

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, go stupid go dumb! my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio, for anyone who would like to check out my other fics or who feels like chatting. can’t wait to hear your thoughts 💘💘💘

~*~

    January 7, 2021

All of Harry’s teeth are still intact.

For now, at least.

He knows that mouthguards exist—there’s one tucked between his lips every single time he enters the ring. But even then…sometimes punches go awry. Sometimes your opponent dodges at the last second. Sometimes people end up with a mouthful of leather and a few loose incisors. He always keeps one fist near his chin, shielding the lower half of his face from any blows that come his way.

Speaking of blows coming his way…

He ducks away from the straight jab that the man throws—The Wall, they call him. Harry had rolled his eyes when the nickname boomed across the room, soon lost in the roar of the crowd.

He’s never been one for flashy introductions. He prefers to let his technique speak for itself. His brand is his name. Harry Styles. Simple, concise, and so utterly deceiving. He loves watching the smile melt from his opponent’s face, basks in the moment when they realise that he’s tougher than his name suggests.

The Wall jabs again, and Harry successfully dodges the punch. He doesn’t register the other fist hooking around, however, until the blunt front of the man’s glove makes contact with the side of his head. Usually, a blow like that wouldn’t even faze him. But the sheer force behind the hit knocks him off-balance, stumbling to the side as he loses his footing and inhaling sharply when his shoulder collides with the ground.

The yells from the crowd are deafening. Harry coughs, trying to guide air back into his lungs. When he blinks, black spots dance across his vision. Subconsciously, his eyes trace a path upward, past the floor, past his opponent’s feet, past the ropes encompassing the ring. Higher and higher, still, past jeering faces and sloshing beer bottles and grungy eye makeup. All the way to the top of the bleachers, to the exit—to you.

That’s been your unofficial spot for the past two years. Once you turned twenty, your father finally gave in, allowing you to attend Harry’s matches in exchange for the cessation of your endless badgering. You always stand near the door, observing the commotion with thoughtful eyes and puckered lips. Despite himself, Harry has started to think of you as his lucky charm. It’s dangerous—he always swore that he wouldn’t be one of those overly-superstitious athletes—but he can’t help it. He just seems to perform better when you’re around.

Through the rocky field of his vision, he can see just how wide your eyes have grown. There’s an unmistakable look of concern on your face as you watch the fight unfold. Your hand finds its way to the base of your throat, playing nervously with the rose-gold pendant resting there. You crane your neck to get a better view of the ring, your pupils flitting back and forth between Harry and the frighteningly large man looming over him.

A warm rush of adrenaline floods Harry’s veins. The saliva that has gathered in his mouth tastes stale on his tongue. He spits it out as he staggers to his feet. The crowd grows louder, somehow.

The Wall’s smile shrinks as Harry assumes his previous position; his hands orient themselves in front of his face. His opponent gnashes his teeth, seemingly annoyed with the fact that the match has not ended. Harry shakes off the dizziness clouding his brain, and then he’s lunging forward with a newfound sense of determination. He throws punch after punch, sidestepping The Wall’s returning attempts. All he can think about is the fact that you’re up there, watching, waiting, worrying. He never wants to see you like that again.

You’re his goddamn lucky charm.

His victory comes in the form of an uppercut followed immediately by a nasty right hook. The Wall—this big, towering man with bulging biceps and rippling pectorals—crumples to the ground. Harry waits, his chest heaving with exertion as the countdown begins. He’s prepared to watch his opponent rise again, to shift back into a fighting stance and start over. But as the seconds trickle by and The Wall remains motionless on the ground, he soon finds the tension in his body seeping out into the hot, sticky air.

His shoulders sag in relief as a single promising word echoes through the grimy arena.

“Knockout!”

~*~

The crowd thins out considerably in the ten minutes following the termination of the match. Harry stumbles out of the ring, sliding through the ropes and pulling his mouthguard from between his lips. Your father is waiting for him with a smile on his face, holding out an arm and helping him jump down from the raised platform.

“Well done, H,” he says, patting his back proudly.

Harry pants and nods. Your father holds out a reusable water bottle for him to take—he accepts it graciously and gulps down the cold liquid with fat, greedy slurps. Once he pulls the nozzle away from his mouth, he runs the back of his hand over his face to catch any stray droplets that have collected on his chin.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“You took a pretty hard fall, there,” your father says, guiding him to sit down on a bench propped up against the wall. “Medic’s in the back. He’s checking out Aaron right now, but you’re next.” He taps his index finger against Harry’s temple. “We’ve got to make sure everything’s alright up there.”

Harry sucks in a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Who the fuck is Aaron?”

“Oh.” Your father laughs. “Aaron. The Wall. Whatever you want to call him.”

Harry frowns. “Don’t like that. Makes him sound like a dick.”

A new voice enters the conversation.

“That’s because he is.”

Harry’s head snaps to the side, and there you are.

You look nice, as usual. There’s something about you that he can never seem to properly describe. You always look so…clean. If he tried to vocalize his thoughts, he’s sure that you would look at him like he was crazy.

But in his head, it makes sense. You take care of yourself. Your nails are spotless, your hair smells good, and he knows that you must dab spritzes of perfume onto your pulse points before you leave the house, because a fresh scent follows you wherever you go. Even now, as you stand a few feet away with your hands on your hips, he catches it on a deep inhale. Not flowery, not fruity, just…clean. Refreshing. Light. Breezy.

Your father snaps him out of his reverie, and he realises that he should probably stop listing every word in the thesaurus.

“How do you know?” Your father’s inquiry is curious. He shoots you a puzzled look, his mouth curling down into a soft scowl.

You roll your eyes. “Called me ‘sweet thing’ before the match started and asked me if I was the prize,” you say, sticking your tongue out in disdain. “I told him to go fuck himself.”

Harry’s lips twitch.

Your father chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head. “What time are we leaving?” you ask. The question is directed at your father, who is fiddling with the drawstrings hanging from his sweater. “I was hoping to study a bit more before bed.”

“Soon, gioia,” your father says. “As soon as Harry gets checked out, we’ll be on our way.”

You nod, and—for what feels like the first time since you cut into the interaction—you glance down at Harry. “Hi,” you say softly, shooting him a small, friendly smile.

He meets your gaze for only a moment. Everything about you is so gentle. Your irises are like melted pots of honey, regarding him with such warmth he feels like he’ll never be cold again. “Hi.”

“Congratulations on your win,” you murmur. Harry wants to bottle your voice and save it as a keepsake. “You made a great comeback.”

Because of you, he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. “Thank you,” he offers up instead, the words scraping against the roof of his mouth and tumbling unceremoniously into the air between you.

A moment of silence ensues as you wait for him to say something—anything—else. But he’s done. You nod once before turning back to your father, who is tweaking the settings of the watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Do you know where the washrooms are?” you ask. You toy absentmindedly with the necklace hanging from your throat. “I need to pee.”

“You can use the one in the women’s locker room,” your father tells you, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Around the corner, first door on the left.”

“Thanks,” you say, slipping by and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He just nods in agreement, still too preoccupied with his watch.

Harry, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk away. He takes note of the way that you tuck your hair behind your ear, how you shoulder the strap of your purse to keep it from slipping down your arm, how you walk with a purpose despite being so moderate and kind. His gaze falls momentarily to the sway of your hips, the enticing nature of your waist. He stares for a long moment before tearing away, clearing his throat and blinking a few times in quick succession.

“Proud of you, H,” your father pipes up, tapping the face of his watch twice before dropping his arm with a sigh. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks,” Harry mutters. A spark of guilt flares up in his chest when he realises that he had been blatantly ogling you with your father standing only a few feet off to the side. He silently berates himself, shaking his head free of any alluring thoughts.

Your father’s phone chirps with the arrival of a new notification. He fishes the device out of his pocket and glances down at the screen.

“Let’s go,” he tells Harry, jerking his head to the right. “Medic’s ready for you, now.”

    January 13, 2021

“C’mon, H, be smart with it! Watch how he angles himself!”

And Harry’s trying, really, but Arthur—or Artie, as your father likes to call him—is a hunkering titan of a man. He used to be your father’s star athlete before retiring, and now…now he’s working in finance, or something akin to that. Harry isn’t one hundred percent sure; he usually zones out when people begin to discuss the stock market.

Artie throws a right hook, but Harry sees it coming and blocks it with ease. They move in a circle, focussed only on each other while other individuals outside of the ring totter around.

Harry prefers to train on weekdays during the afternoon, because that’s when the gym isn’t as packed. Right now, only a handful of other people are working out, lifting weights or doing cardio exercises. Harry and Artie are here so often that nobody even blinks an eye anymore. And your father…well, he runs the place. Of course he would be here.

The sparring continues. When Harry refuses to make the first move, Artie sticks one glove out, beckoning him forward. “Come here, pretty boy.”

“Don’t make me pull your hair,” Harry grits, because Artie’s ponytail is swinging temptingly from beneath his headgear.

The other man laughs good-naturedly before lunging. Harry blocks his uppercut and delivers a strong, pointed jab right to the middle of his chest. Artie stumbles backward, inhaling sharply as the breath is knocked from his lungs. Harry bites back a smile.

“Nice, H!” your father calls.

“Thanks, Coach,” he mutters.

The front door of the gym opens, accompanied by the soft tinkling of a bell to announce the new arrival. Harry’s attention is reflexively drawn toward the direction of the sound, and his heartbeat stutters beneath his ribs.

You’re there, with your hair tied back in a low bun and silver hoops hanging from your ears. You’re holding a tray of coffee in your left hand, and there’s a warm smile on your face. You wave excitedly as you greet Portia, the middle-aged woman sitting behind the front desk. The two of you chat as you shrug off your jacket and tug the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your mouth moves languidly. Though Harry is too far to hear your voice, he has a pretty good idea of what you’re saying. Your eyes widen and you shiver dramatically, shaking your head.

It’s cold!

A heavy fist makes contact with the side of his jaw, and he falls to the ground.

Your father’s loud exclamation pulls your attention away from Portia and toward the ring on the opposite end of the room. Harry groans lowly as he pushes himself to his knees, tilting his head from side to side and cracking his neck. When he turns to face your father, he finds him frowning through the gaps between the ropes.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, shooting Harry a disappointed look.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, climbing to his feet with a grunt. “Got distracted.”

He chances a glance back at you, and his shoulders grow tense when he realises that you’re making your way over to the ring, the tray of coffee held between your hands like a peace offering.

“Hello, boys,” you singsong. “I brought drinks.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” your father says as you hand him his designated cup. He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to your hair. You hum happily in response.

“Jason!” you call out as Artie approaches the side of the ring. “I got your lemonade.”

“Thanks, little girl,” Artie hums, accepting his drink graciously and taking a long sip from the straw. “And for the hundredth time, stop calling me ‘Jason’.”

“Stop calling me ‘little girl’,” you shoot back, laughing deviously. “I can’t help it if you look like him, okay? You’re even the same age, too.” You cock one eyebrow. “Should I start calling you ‘Aquaman’ instead?”

“God, no.” Artie shakes his head vehemently. “Let’s stick to Jason. ’Least that’s a real name.”

You giggle as he ambles away. Your eyes shift over to Harry—who has kept silent the entire time—and your lips curl up into a kind smile. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.” His voice is guttural.

“Last, but not least,” you murmur, plucking his drink from the tray and holding it up for him to take. “One black coffee, right?”

“Right,” he confirms with a curt nod. He tugs his bulky gloves off, dropping them to the floor and reaching out to accept the cup. A strong spark pricks at his hand when his fingers brush against yours. Your responding gasp is soft, barely-noticeable—if he weren’t so painfully aware of everything you do, he would have missed it completely.

“Thank you,” he says, guiding the coffee to his mouth and taking a small sip.

“No problem.” You smile up at him again, and God, that fucking smile. He wants it tattooed onto the backs of his eyelids. A wave of heat blooms in his chest and creeps up his neck, but thankfully, the pink flush blends in with his sweat-slicked, already-rosy skin.

“How was class, sweetheart?” your father asks, tilting his head to the side.

“It was good.” You shrug, tossing a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m going to head home now, though—I have a proposal due in a few days and I really need to get started.”

“Go, go,” your father concedes. You bid him goodbye before standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck to catch sight of Artie, who is quite evidently enjoying his lemonade.

“Bye, Jason!”

“Bye, little girl!”

You laugh. Your gaze lands on Harry again, eyes sparkling and features resolutely tender. “Bye, Harry.”

He swallows down the hard lump in his throat. “Bye.”

    January 16, 2021

Harry’s workout playlist features a lot of Ariana Grande.

He just thinks that she’s good, okay?

But he knows that Artie and your father would never let him hear the end of it, so he keeps that information private. During practice, he’ll endure whatever shitty tunes Artie picks from his own library, and he won’t say a word. He’s not in the ring to dance, anyway. He’s there to make money—albeit illegally—because quite frankly, he hasn’t discovered an aptitude for anything else.

It’s late—the gym is technically closed. But the great thing about having the owner for a coach is the fact that Harry was given another key to add to his collection. Your father doesn’t care, as long as he locks up after he’s done. Harry has spent more time here than at his own home, he imagines. It’s nice when it’s quiet—it gives him plenty of time to think.

The back of his t-shirt is soaked through with sweat. He’s gazing at the ceiling as he lifts the heavy weights up and down over his torso. A bubbly song is playing on his phone, keeping his energy high.

So what if he listens to Ariana Grande? She makes great music.

The distinctive sound of footsteps reaches his ears. He pauses, setting the weightlifting bar back onto its rack and sitting up quickly. The noise is coming from the stairs that lead down to the swimming pool in the basement. Harry stands, and though his muscles are already screaming from previous exertion, he readies himself for the worst.

You appear at the top of the flight, your slippers smacking against each step loudly. You’re ruffling a towel against your wet hair, your head angled to the side as you squeeze out any excess water. Upon catching sight of Harry, you freeze in your tracks.

“Oh. Harry. Hi.”

“Hi,” he says slowly. “I…didn’t know you were here.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you reply wryly, a small smirk making its way onto your lips.

Harry scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Er…I was just working out.”

You nod, your expression coy. “I can see that.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air. Harry clears his throat, rubbing his jaw with his fingers because what else is he supposed to do? “Were you—did you go for a swim?”

“Yeah,” you say. Your shoulders deflate, like you’re almost grateful that he’s contributed more to the conversation. “Spent half the time doing laps, and the other half on my phone.” Your lips quirk up with the feeble joke.

Harry chuckles weakly. “That’s just how it is, sometimes.”

Your eyes flutter shut for only a moment. “Yeah.”

More silence. Harry chews nervously on his bottom lip. Why the fuck can’t he speak?

The song playing from his phone changes. Your eyes narrow ever-so-slightly when a few upbeat notes trickle into the air, followed immediately by the smooth crooning of a woman’s voice. “Is this…,” you hesitate, and he can see how you’re fighting a smile, “…Carly Rae Jepsen?”

“Uh,” he says dumbly, uncertain of how to proceed. Sure enough, I Really Like You by Carly Rae Jepsen is filtering through the taut atmosphere, painfully loud now that the two of you are truly paying attention to it.

A high-pitched laugh falls from your mouth, and your shoulders shake with the force of your amusement. Harry, unable to help himself, begins to chuckle along with you. Heat blooms across his cheeks, but he’s not as embarrassed as he thought he’d be. Your giggles aren’t derisive, he realises.

He’s nearly overcome with the urge to take you in his arms, then, but he resists.

“Late night, watching the television…,” you sing quietly, and then you’re dissolving into merriment all over again.

Once your joint laughter subsides, you shoot him a bright grin. Harry tries his best to return it, though he doesn’t think that he mirrors your smile to its full extent. You sigh in delight, shouldering the strap of your bag and tossing your towel over your forearm.

“That honestly made my night,” you tell him, utterly sincere.

His heart somersaults in his chest. “’M glad.”

“Well,” you say, shrugging gently, “I should probably go.”

“Yeah.” His response is hollow. He lifts his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He lies back down with a grunt as you make your way toward the exit. His fingers wrap around the weightlifting bar, about to pull it off of its resting place, when your voice suddenly rings out again.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He sits up too quickly, nearly catching his forehead against the metal of the bar. When he turns around to face you, he finds you doubling back, approaching him and nibbling apprehensively on your bottom lip.

“I actually—,” you pause, like you’re unsure of how to continue, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing his hands over the black shorts covering his thighs. “Go ahead.”

“It might be kind of weird,” you warn. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He shakes his head, blinking solemnly. “I won’t.”

“Would you—,” you begin, and your fingers come up to play with the pendant resting at the base of your throat, “—teach me how to box?”

“I—,” Harry recoils slightly, taken aback by your question. “What?”

“Would you teach me how to box?” you repeat, though your voice is significantly smaller. “I want to learn how to defend myself.”

“Against what?” he asks, his brows knitting together in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You wave away his worries with an inattentive flick of your hand. Harry’s eyes narrow as he studies your face. You refuse to meet his gaze.

You’re lying, he realises, straight through your pretty teeth. But it would be impolite of him to pry, wouldn’t it? And this is the first time that the two of you have ever been really, truly alone; he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“Okay,” he says slowly, even though he doesn’t believe your guarantee.

He pulls at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up and wiping his face with the fabric. When he fixes his gaze on you once more, he thinks he catches your eyes drifting across his torso. Cocking one eyebrow curiously, he climbs to his feet.

“What do you want to learn?” he asks, reaching for his phone and pausing the music streaming from the device.

“Anything,” you say breathlessly. “Everything.”

His lips twitch.

“I—,” he scratches at his nose with two fingers, “—I don’t really have a set schedule, you know, between practice and actual matches.”

“I know.” You nod understandingly.

“And I know you have school,” he continues, tilting his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Positive,” you tell him. There’s something strong burning in your eyes; he can’t quite figure out what it is. “I want to train. Just…don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats. He swallows heavily, offering his phone to you. “Put your number in, yeah? I’ll text you on the nights I’m free, and if you’re not too busy, we can meet up here.”

“Alright,” you concede softly. You take the device from him, and he pretends not to notice just how badly your hands are shaking. Your nails tap quietly against the screen, and before you know it, you’re passing the phone back to him with your information saved under a new contact.

“Alright,” Harry echoes.

The two of you stare at each other for a long, silent moment. The spell is broken, however, when you finally take a step back, clearing your throat and tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“I should go,” you say. “For real, this time.”

“For real.” Harry nods.

“You’ll lock up, right?” you ask, retreating toward the exit.

“Yup,” he says, popping the last letter instinctively. At that, you smile, your mouth curling up into a soft, inviting crescent.

“Okay,” you murmur, placing one hand on the door. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He watches you go with forlorn eyes and empty lungs. “Goodnight.”

~*~

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

PART IV: Uppercut

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Remind me to thank her

pairing: johnny storm (au! no superpowers) x reader

warnings: good old fluff, mention of hook ups, slight hints of sexy time (nothing specified), johnny being adorable, shy reader, cuteness.

words: 1,447

a/n: sort of a self-indulgent fic, hope you all like this, feedback, comments and reblogs are appreciated!! i love fluffy johnny

made this mood board

(y/n) is a socially awkward girl and to find her at party is equivalent to the chances of getting a text from a crush who is out of your league. oh lool, a text from the crush - as in y/n is at a party after her friend sort of emotionally blackmailed her to join her. so here she is awkwardly standing in the corner with a drink in her hand.

“don’t like the party?” a voice comes from beside her, she turns to find a man with blonde hair with a smirk on his face. she is not at all good in making conversation. why is this man even talking to her? she wonders. he seems kinda out of her league. “hi, i am johnny” he says accompanied with a smile. “hi, (y/n)” she returns the smile, with a hint of shyness , she tends to get shy in general and the glow of this man is charming yet a little intimidating for her.

“(y/n) that’s a pretty name, so as i was saying, you don’t like this party?” he takes a sip of his own drink. “no i mean parties aren’t exactly my thing. it’s too loud for my taste and there are way too many people here, i don’t even know whose party this is, i just came because my friend insisted.” she sort of rambles and his smile gets bigger. “well you’re in luck, this is my party” wow, she gets flustered. “i-i mean uh- it’s a good party” he raises a single eyebrow at her. “remind me to thank your friend for bringing you here.” he winks. she is flustered even more, she is not at all used to this. is johnny flirting with her? her? why? “so if parties aren’t your thing, do tell me what is.” he tilts his head a little. “i mostly like staying home, watching movies, spending time with my close friends, i don’t have a lot of friends though. and occasionally i like going out, going to some cozy pretty cafe, spending some time there. well, i am definitely not the most interesting person one knows of.” she says with a smile. johnny understands that she is not exactly his type but she is quite intriguing. “there’s only one way to find out, i should get a chance to know you to see if you are interesting or not? how about we get out of here and go to some coffee shop, get something to eat?” johnny offers. (y/n) isn’t exactly sure what’s happening, or rather how? is he asking her out? he wants to spend time with her? or does this offer have some other meaning? she may be shy and may not be super experienced but she knows about this sorta stuff.

“um johnny, i don’t exactly understand what you are suggesting, besides it’s your party, why would you leave?” johnny laughs a little, she is cute. “well i am suggesting we should go out? and about me leaving my party, it’s no big deal, most of these people are way too drunk to realise whether i am here or not, still i’ll just send a text to my friend to take care of things. so you wanna go? because i wanna go, get to know you.” before she can stop herself from doing anything, a blush automatically appears on her face. “um we can go, but uh- i- this is only a visit to a cafe right? there is no other meaning behind this? you don’t expect to end this night in- you know in a certain way” she looks away as she says the last line. johnny can’t help but let out a small laugh. (y/n) feels she has already made a fool of herself and that’s why he laughed. she decides to go away, she is a little hurt and doesn’t know why. as she is about to go johnny holds her hand and stops her.

“wait where are you going?”

“away, i think i have already made a fool of myself it’s better i just go”

“what are you saying? is it because i laughed? i didn’t mean to make you feel bad, it’s just you’re so cute, asking about other meanings behind this, so very cute, a laugh just escaped from me. i am sorry.”

“it’s okay, i am just not at all used to any of this.”

“i understand, it’s alright, and to address your doubts, i just wanna get some coffee, get to know you, that’s all, no other intentions.” he pauses before looking into her eyes. “well not for now at least” he winks. “okay, we can go” she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. “great, let’s go!” he offers her his hand, she hesitates but eventually takes it, johnny smiles.

walking in new york city at night with the right company can be quite nice. johnny is happy that (y/n) is still holding his hand, he has a constant smile on his face since he met her. they find a cute little coffee shop and decide to go in. “what would you like to have?” johnny asks. they place their order and find a place to sit down. it’s by the windows and it’s quite beautiful. (y/n) loves to watch the cityscape at night with a beautiful combination of light and darkness. johnny can’t help but admire that, her face is glowing, he doesn’t know if that’s because of the lights or if it’s natural. “looks like our order is ready, i’ll get it” johnny brings their order to the table. (y/n) drinks her iced coffee. “so this is your thing?” johnny asks and she nods. “is it too boring for you?” (y/n) enquires. johnny chuckles. “no, not at all, this is pretty good, even better because of the company” he raises his eyebrows at her. “you’re something aren’t you johnny?” johnny truly is something. it’s true this is not usual for johnny he is more of a party person. he doesn’t like to get attached and hook ups have worked fine for him till now. but maybe this will be different, this maybe new? he won’t lie he is a little nervous, yes johnny storm is nervous. but excited too.

“johnny?” she waves her hand, he realises he hasn’t said anything, too busy to admire the scene in front of him. “right, sorry, yeah well i guess” he seems to be out of words, which is extremely unlikely for him. “you seem out of your element, are you okay?” she says and takes a sip from her coffee. johnny is more than okay, he feels like a teenager all of a sudden, sitting in front of the girl he likes. “i’ll be honest (y/n), i haven’t dated properly in a long time, i wanna say and ask a lot of things but i am too engrossed in just enjoying this vibe right now. i have never enjoyed not talking and just being in the moment this much.” (y/n) sort of got used to his flirty side by now but this is new, and even better. a blush creeps up her face. “well this is new for me, i am not very outgoing. i honestly didn’t expect someone like you to- you know be interested in me in any way. but um- all i can say is this feels nice. being with you here, as you said, being in this moment feels good.” she looks down at her drink, worried if she has ruined the moment. she feels comfortable with johnny, even though she just met him. “hey look at me, you have no idea how happy i am to hear that, and what can i say? you should always expect the unexpected with me” he winks. she blushes more. “so yes i am very much interested in you, and want to get to know you more, you’re very intriguing, a lot more than you give yourself credit for.” he moves up in his seat and places his hand on hers gently. “i can understand this is new for you, in a way it’s new for me too, but it’s making me nervous in the most beautiful way and if you feel the same, i think it’s worth something.” she has a warm smile on her face, he loves that so much, he loves to see her smile for him. “i think i do feel the same.” she says, he returns the smile and rubs his thumb over her hand softly.

“great, then this is officially a date and we should start planning our next one?” she laughs at his eagerness, she likes it honestly. maybe this could be something, something neither of them were looking for but found. johnny will always be thankful to her friend for bringing (y/n) to the party.

[cappsikle]

It’ll be ok // fred weasley

Pairing: fred weasley x reader

Summary: the world just seems a little too heavy, but luckily, you have him by your side.

Warnings: it gets just a tad heavy mental health wise / not all of it is proofread so please forgive that

Word Count: 2.6k 

A/N: Hey guys!! Sooo this is my first ever fic on tumblr! I would just like to dedicate this piece to @ickle-ronniekins as it was her and a bunch of talented writers that inspired me to get back to writing, and I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for them!

Also if you like this fic please reblog! It would mean a lot if you did!

This fic is just a huge projection from my own feelings, quarintine has got me in my feels, and I’m sure everyone could do with some Freddie comfort. Enjoy!! <3

-----

There you were, hunched over various textbooks and pieces of parchment that seemed to cover the whole table. Fred looked up at the clock on the wall above the fireplace and then back down to you. Something in his eyes changed as he walked over to the table, quickly bidding goodnight to George and Lee as they headed up to the dorms.  

Fred sat in the chair next to yours and he couldn’t help to just take a minute to admire you. But from glancing at you now, Fred knew that something wasn’t right. From your usually very well-kept hair that now looked as though you ran your fingers through it at least a hundred times throughout the night to your joyless and sunken eyes, eyes that used to hold all the joy and spark Fred loved most about you, but are now just dull and almost... lifeless.

For a while now, Fred had noticed small changes in the way you’ve been acting recently, and it wasn’t even just him, all your other friends had taken notice as well, but no one knew what to do. It wasn’t until this very moment as he watched you tire yourself out with work that he realised just how much had changed, and he felt a pang of guilt for not talking to you about it sooner. So, in the softest voice he could muster, Fred tried to coax you from your work whilst placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Hey, love. ‘S getting a bit late, reckon we should head up to bed?”  

Your head snapped up at Fred as he spoke, only now taking notice of his presence, but you then quickly looked back down to continue scribbling mercilessly on the parchment. You needed to get this essay done before tomorrow, otherwise, you’ll slowly but surely fall behind on everything else. You can’t let that happen,  

“I’m sorry Fred, I really can’t. I have to finish this stupid essay for potions”  

“For potions? Isn’t that due next week?” You looked back up at Fred, your eyes widening as you became more distressed.  

“I-I know but if I get this done now then I can use my time to focus on other assignments. I’ve fallen behind and I need to catch up.” Fred slowly nodded his head in understanding. It seemed like a good enough excuse, hell, he’s been in this exact position before, pulling his fair share of all-nighters for assignments due the next day, but when Fred looked deep into your eyes, there was something there that he couldn’t quite place. Desperation? He wasn’t sure. 

“Look, love, you’re wearing yourself thin. You need a break”  

You don’t know why, but suddenly you’re very irritated. It’s possibly due to how much sleep you’re getting, well, more like lack of sleep. You don’t know why, but suddenly you’re snapping at him “Fred, I don’t need a break so can you just please leave me alone?” 

You don’t want to look at him, for the fear of seeing a look of hurt or the resentment that’s bound to be there you’re not sure you can take that sort of thing, so you lower your head and quickly wriggle your arm free from under his hand.  

Fred tried not to feel offended, he really tried, but you removing your arm from his touch just nicked him in his chest. He knew you didn’t have a problem with him, he knew this was something that seemed too out of his control, but he just wished he knew what to do to make you feel better. Maybe giving you some space should help.   

“Okay... I’ll head to bed then. Try not to stay up too late, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight” Fred placed a quick and gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he stood up and walked towards the stairs. Before ascending, he looked back towards you still slumped in your chair, and an unsettling feeling crawled its way into his stomach. With one final look, he walked up the stairs towards his room.  

Once Fred left, you chucked down your quill in frustration and rapidly ran your hands through your hair, pulling at the roots in distress. You hated this. You hated how you get annoyed at things that shouldn’t annoy you, you hated how it was impossible to get a good night’s rest, you hated how your mind just wouldn’t. Shut. Up. And what’s worst of all, you loathed how you keep pushing the one person who seems to give a crap about you. It’s not like there’s a lot of people who do.  

A sharp pain nestled in your chest, but you tried to ignore it, you always did. You weren’t even sure what it meant. Anxiety? Guilt? It was probably a mixture of both. You didn’t know how, or when, you allowed it to get so bad. With Umbridge slowly taking over the school alongside her vile punishments (you’ve had your fair share of them), the upcoming N.E.W.Ts that you needed to ace and the stress of keeping up with the DA meetings. But that doesn’t even seem like the half of it. Every little inconvenience had the power to ruin the rest of your day.  

You couldn’t deal with it anymore, with any of it. You just wished there was a way to make the world slow down to grab your bearings, to just actually breathe. You released a big sigh and grabbed your quill again, but the tip doesn’t even touch the paper. It’s stuck, just like you. Eventually, you fold your arms on the table and rest your head on them. You know you must finish but maybe... just five minutes won’t hurt. Just five minutes.   

---  

Fred lay awake on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for merlin knows how long. That weird feeling in his stomach didn’t go away, something just felt extremely off. Fred checked the watch located on the table beside his bed. It was pretty late; he’d been awake for at least a couple hours. Knowing that he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep anytime soon, Fred threw the covers from his body and gently got out of bed, careful to not wake any of his sleeping roommates.  

By the time he made it down to the bottom of the stairs, he was already wishing to be back in bed, however, what he saw made him stop in his tracks. You were still there, this time unmoving with your head resting on your arms and your deep and even breathing. Why were you still here and not in bed? As carefully as he could, Fred walked over to your sleeping self and gently laid a hand on your shoulder squeezing just enough to rouse you.  

After a few more gentle squeezes you started to stir awake. Fred almost felt bad for waking you, but he knew that you would have a much better time sleeping in an actual bed than a desk. You lifted your head and Fred couldn’t help to admire the sheer adorableness of your sleepy form. Your hair was dishevelled and sticking up in a few places, your cheek was red from where it was resting and the tiny noises that came from you whilst you stretched. However, as much as he’d love to stare, he knew he had to take care of you, or at least get you to bed.  

Once you had done stretching, you looked around the table until your eyes landed on an arm, which trailed all the way to Fred’s face. You were taken aback at suddenly seeing his face next to yours, but you quickly calmed down upon looking into his soft eyes, the glow of the fire making his brown orbs look more alive and opening.  

“Hey,” Fred said, a small smirk appearing at the corner of his lips.  

“Hi,” you smile back. For a moment, when you looked into his eyes, you felt warm, like you were safe, you always did. You loved Fred, you loved him so much but often at times you caught yourself doubting whether or not you deserved to be with him, and each and every time Fred did his absolute best to prove your thoughts wrong. Looking into his eyes, you just get that feeling... the feeling of coming home to a warm bed after a cold day. Sometimes, you feel as if your heart might explode from the amount of love you have for him, you couldn’t even out into words. But that warm and safe feeling was quickly diminished and replaced with dread once you looked down to the mess that was sitting on the table. Darn this stupid assignment.

“Crap, I can’t believe I fell asleep!” you groan as you shuffled through some of the parchment, trying to find the one you needed.

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down there” Fred placed his hand on top of yours, trying to stop your erratic movements. “Don’t you think it’s time to take a bit of a break? It’s nearly two a.m.”

“Fred, I can’t just ‘take a break’, I’ve got too much to do,”

“And it’ll all still be here after you’ve had some sleep,”

You released a groan in frustration and turned to face him, your irritation getting the better of you. “Don’t you get it? That’s the problem!” your voice started to rise with each word, the stress and lack of sleep catching up to you. “If I stop now then I’ll fall behind and I just can’t let that happen, ok? So just back off.”

“Hey,” Fred grabbed your cheeks in both his hands and guided your face, so you were looking at him. Seeing your widened eyes and reddened cheeks concerned him, as this was just so unlike you. What happened to this happy-go-lucky and incredibly bubbly person go? The person who had the purest soul than anyone he knew? You just looked... tired. He knew he had to tread carefully here if we wanted to crack all your walls to understand what the hell is going on.

You moved your hands up to try and remove his from his face, but his grip tightened ever so slightly to make your attempts futile. “Look, I’m worried about you. All this,” he tilted his head to the side to gesture to everything on the table. “it isn’t like you. Please don’t hide away, because you know I’m here for you.”

You both stayed silent for a minute, his hands holding your cheeks and yours resting on his forearms. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you just crumbled. Your face scrunched up and your breathing became erratic as you looked down to hide your face from Fred’s gaze. You leaned forward so your head was resting against his chest, letting out a few silent sobs as you just... broke. At the sight of your crying figure, Fred immediately jumped into action. He removed his hands from your face and wrapped his arms around your waist, carrying you over so you sat in his lap. One of his hands trailed up to stroke your head as his other maneuvered your legs so they wrapped around his torso, your head pushing further into his shoulder.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. You just needed the warmth that constantly surrounded him. After a few minutes of tears and whisperings of sweet nothings into your ear along with Fred’s comforting touch, your breathing started to return to normal, and your sobs turned into the occasional hiccup. You weren’t really expecting to have a total breakdown, you honestly thought that you had things under control, but when you looked and Fred and he looked at you, you knew you couldn’t keep everything bottled up anymore.

Fred was the first to break the silence, “d’you wanna move to the couch? It'll be comfier”. The only response he got was a small nod of your head, you not really being able to trust your voice enough to speak. So, Fred stood up with you still wrapped in his arms as he carried you over to the couch in front of the fire, grabbing the spare blanket and wrapping it around you and himself. It was like a nice little cocoon of comfort and warmth.  

And for a while, you two stayed like that, basking in the silence and the warmth the fire provided. You knew you needed to say something, you just didn’t know what exactly you could say. Fred was in the same boat. Should he make a joke to try and make you feel better? That always did the trick. But... something about tonight just told him to leave it on the backburner for now. He slid his arm underneath the blanket and stroked up and down the expanse of your back, hoping to relax your tense muscles. Occasionally Fred would turn his head to place delicate kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose... basically anywhere his lips could find.

God... what did you do to desrve someone like him? Someone so boisterous and loud, but also understanding and gentle when he needed to be. As the minutes ticked by, and Fred’s hands continuously moving across your body, you finally found the courage to speak up.

“Sometimes I just feel like...” you trailed off, trying to find the right words.  

“like?”  

“like nothing is going to be ok. Like no matter how hard I try, or pretend, I’m not going to be ok,” your voice caught in your throat as you buried your head into his shoulder, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the world threatening to beat you down. A silent tear trailed down the side of your face, but you hadn’t made any attempt to wipe it away.

Fred sighed through his nose, and he swore a piece of his heart cracked when your voice did. He knew you were struggling with something, but he was just never sure of what or how bad it was. He only wished he could just take all your pain away, even force it upon himself if it meant that you’d get the chance to be happy.  

“Oh love, I had no idea. I’m so sorry”  

“It’s okay...” you half-shrug your shoulder, removing one of your arms from around his neck to quickly wipe the corner of your eye “no one really knew, so it’s fine”  

There was a moment of silence as the both of you tried to catch up with your thoughts, until Fred finally spoke up, a strain in his voice, “no, it’s not fine. I hate that you’re feeling like this. Please, is there anything I can do to help you?”  

You shrug your shoulder again. To be completely honest, you weren’t even sure if there was anything he could do. You've barely even figured out what you can do for yourself. However, there was one thing you knew you needed, the one thing that could help you through anything. “Just be here, and hold me?”  

Fred placed his lips to your forehead, leaving them there for a bit as he gave a gentle kiss. He breathed deeply through his nose and spoke the words against your forehead. “for you, my love, anything.”  

With those final words and his fingers slowly tracing up and down your arm, you felt for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, things might turn out ok.  

-----

whew and there we go!!! My first fic completed!! I honestly have no self control when it comes to word limits, my teachers hate me for that... oopsies! anyways I hope you all enjoyed that, if you guys liked my work feel free to send in any requests! 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

- Mills

[lauras-collection]

missed opportunities ⭐︎ h.o.

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Summary: You’re a living high school cliche having a crush on one of your closest friends, and despite him giving you more than one reason to think he might feel the same, you don’t do anything about it.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, angst, pining, don’t be fooled there’s gonna be pure fith in part 2 :D

A/N: my first Harrison fic is here!! I’m not a 100% happy yet but i’m running out of time :D let me know what you think.

I’ll reblog with my taglist later today or tomorrow! ❤️

People say you only regret the things you didn’t do. And you agree with that whole heartedly. It’s been years since you graduated high school, but you still think back to that time and wonder what if.

What if you had told Harrison you liked him as more than a friend? What if you had just let him kiss you that one time? What if, contrary to what you thought back in the day, your pining wasn’t one sided and he actually felt the same? 

*

It all started with him sending you winks from across the classroom and sharing the muffin he brought for lunch with you. You didn't really think anything of it at first. Harrison was a flirty person and he’d never been on your radar as anything other than your friend. Not even when he gave you your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle when you were 14. 

But then suddenly you're constantly thinking about him and blushing at whatever cocky remark left his pretty mouth. You were confused by your own feelings. You never expected to develop a crush on your friend and you couldn't stop analysing the little moments you shared with him. Even years later.

Like that time he gently helped you detangle your hair from a hair-tie, his face so close you would’ve only had to lean forward the tiniest bit to kiss him or every time he’d run his fingertips over your forearm during class, gently caressing you as if you were a fragile vase he was afraid of breaking but couldn’t keep his hands away from. 

You always thought those moments were just significant for you. Not for him. The more certain you became about your own feelings, the more you told yourself that what you were feeling for him was completely one-sided.

It’s only when you're looking back that you realise he might have felt the same. But if your insecurities weren’t already enough to stop you from doing anything about it, the moment Harrison showed up with a girlfriend was reason enough for you to take a step back.

You had clearly interpreted too much into his little acts of kindness. Why else would he show up to this party with his arm around Becca? To say you were in a sour mood all evening would be an understatement. But Tom and Harrison weren’t the only ones who could act, so when Harrison introduced her to you, you put a smile on your face and told her it was nice to meet her. And it was, she was nice. And they looked good together. But the way he gazed down at her made you feel sick.

Your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears and you just wanted to get out of this conversation. You couldn’t bare the sight of him pull her close. 

Using your empty drink as an excuse, you finally managed to get away. You grabbed another beer from the kitchen and found a quiet place somewhere in the backyard, allowing yourself to wallow in self pity for a few moments.   

But the universe didn’t grant you much peace. 

“Hey, why’re you sitting out here all alone?” none other than Harrison pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t turn around to look at him, afraid he’d be able to read you like a book. You shrugged your shoulders as he sat down next to you on the edge of the patio. 

“Just wanted a moment for myself.” You mumbled and then finally brought yourself to look at him. “What’s up? Why’re you out here with me and not with your girl, huh?” You nudged his shoulder with yours and force out a laugh. Harrison let his head fall between his shoulders and chuckled.

Instead of answering your question he asked one himself. “So what do you think? D’you like her?” He turned to look at you, his brows a little furrowed. You didn’t know why, but it seemed like your opinion of her mattered to him. You weren’t going to talk bad about her just because you wanted him. It wouldn’t change the fact that he wasn’t interested in you. And you couldn’t deny that she seemed to be a good person. You could see why Harrison liked her.

“Yeah, she’s nice.” You give him a smile. “Very cute.” You nudge his shoulder again. “I’m happy for you, Harrison.” And you were, or you tried to be. 

“Thanks.” He whispered, a small smile on his face. Then he turned to look at you again. “So, do you have your eyes on anyone? Want me to play wingman?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you have to roll your eyes. 

“Not really, no. Besides, the one I want is taken.” You hold your breath for a moment your eyes locked on Harrison’s. Did you really just say that? What if he reads between the lines and makes the connection? Maybe a small part of you wanted him to.

He’s quiet for a moment, then opens his mouth to say something but the sound of the door opening interrupts him.

“Here you guys are!” Tom exclaimed “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He crouched down behind you and Harrison throwing one of his arms around each of you. “You’re aware the party is inside, right?” He looks between the both of you. 

“Yeah, yeah Tom. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” You laughed as you got up. “I just wanted a moment to myself, but that seems to be impossible with you two divs around.” You placed your hands on your hips ignoring Harrison’s gaze that felt like it was burning holes through your skin. “So are we going inside to party, or what?” 

Tom threw his arm around your shoulder again. “Now that Harrison and I are both taken men, we need to find someone for you.” He poked his finger against your chest a few times.

You rolled your eyes again and pushed Tom off of you. “What is it with newly in love people wanting to set their single friends up? I’m good, you guys.” Mumbling, you add “Feelings are stupid anyways.” Before the boys can say anything about it you slip through the door, back inside where it was too loud to have a conversation. 

*

At some point you had gotten used to Harrison having a girlfriend. That didn’t mean your feelings for him went away, though. Your heartbeat still skyrocketed whenever he looked at you in that special way that was just so Harrison, the corners of his lips pulled into a little smirk and his eyes glinting with mischief.

You had tried to shove your feelings for him in a box and put them away somewhere deep in your subconscious, but you couldn’t stop the fluttering feeling in your chest whenever you touched him, or the sharp pain in your heart when you saw him with Becca. 

“What do you say, boys? We go back to my place and watch another movie?” You asked as you exited the cinema, your breath creating little clouds in the cold December air. 

“I can’t” Tom sighed “I promised Mel I’d go over to her place after the movie.” 

“Oh, bummer. What about you, Haz?” You turned to the blonde who had just pulled a beanie over his head, his dark blonde curls sticking out of it in the most adorable way.

“Yeah, I’m game. As long as we don’t watch another one of those romantic comedies.” 

“You’re no fun!” Laughing, you pushed him playfully before shoving your hands into your coat pockets. You said goodbye to Tom and started your walk home. 

Even though it wasn’t far you felt the cold creep into your bones, the tips of your ears already numb.

“You don’t happen to have another beanie with you, do you?” You asked pulling your shoulders up in hopes of keeping the little warmth you still had. 

“Are you cold?” 

“Yeah.” Your teeth were already chattering. You had a habit of not dressing right for the weather, and today was no exception. Harrison was quick to pull the beanie off his head before halting you with a hand on your shoulder. He stepped in front of you, placing the beanie over your head, tugging at the sides a little before he was happy with the position. You immediately relished the heat that the beanie was giving off. But your cheeks warmed for a complete different reason. Harrison was standing only a few inches in front of you, his hands now on your shoulders as he looked at you with a grin.

“Cute. You’d definitely win the who wore it better contest.” He gave your shoulders a squeeze before you both continued walking. 

When you arrived, you reluctantly handed the beanie back over to Harrison with a thank you. As much as you wanted to hold on to it. It wasn’t right. Maybe if you had been his girlfriend, you would’ve sneakily kept it. But that title belonged to someone else. 

Now you were sprawled out on your bed with an action movie that Harrison had picked playing on the tv. You were laying on your side while Harrison was perpendicular to you, his head resting against your belly and his long legs dangling off the edge of the bed. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie, too in your head about the position you were in, aware of every spot of your body that was in contact with Harrison’s. It took everything in you not to reach out and run your fingers through his hair.  

“Hey, Y/N?” 

“Hm?”

“D’you think I should break up with Becca?” His question came out of nowhere. And you had to pull yourself together for a moment.

“Why are you asking me that?” You were asking him two questions at the same time. 1) Why are you asking me that and 2) Why are you asking me that. 

“Dunno, I just-“ He turned to look at you, and you were hyper aware of his touch again.  “I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I like her. And these past couple months have been nice. But something doesn’t feel right.” 

You blew out your cheeks and released the air with a slow breath. 

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to answer that question. As cliche as it sounds, you should to what your heart tells you.” Now you were the one to shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want to be selfish and tell him to break up with Becca. You didn’t know why he was asking you this in the first place. Maybe he wanted to break up with her but wasn’t sure about it? Did he just want someone to give him the courage? And why was he asking you out of all people? Why didn’t he ask Tom? 

“But I don’t know what my heart is telling me.” He looked at you desperately and you felt a wave of anger breaking the surface. Because you knew what, or rather who, your heart wanted. And he was right here, leaning against you, asking you for relationship advice. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Haz.” You grumbled. “If you don’t want to be with her anymore, break up. It’s as easy as that.” You bit your cheek before you could let anything slip that would hint at your feelings for him. You were surprised he hadn’t already picked up on it. Maybe he had and was sparing you the embarrassment.

*

Not long after that conversation Harrison broke up with Becca. But you didn’t really feel the relief you had expected. Yes, Harrison was single again but that didn’t change anything between the two of you. 

At least not until a few weeks later when you were at yet another party. Harrison was drunk. He’d taken part in one too many drinking games. Leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, you watched him in amusement as he moved his lanky body to the music, doing cliche and overused dance moves just to make you laugh. And he succeeded. When he saw you chuckling he pretended to throw a lasso, ‘catching’ you with it. With a groan you do him the favour and unenthusiastically walk closer to him. He wraps his arms around your body, swaying you from side to side. All you could do was laugh, your arms pinned between you, your hands resting against his chest. 

“C’mon, Y/N, dance with me.” He chuckled, his chest rumbling under your hands. You swear your brain short circuited for a moment. 

“You call this dancing?” Instead of answering Harrison buried his face in the crook of your neck, goosebumps immediately covering your whole body at having him so close. You stayed like that for a bit before you had to detangle yourself from him. You weren’t sure you would survive tonight if he kept holding you like that. So you found a seat on the sofa to sit down while Harrison found himself another drink. You should’ve probably stopped him from drinking even more, but you were too preoccupied with getting your heart rate back to normal. You didn’t even realise when Harrison came back from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” He sat down on the coffee table in front of you, caging your legs in-between his, the denim of his jeans rubbing against the exposed skin of your thighs. He drunkenly smiled at you with glossy eyes, his face so close you could have counted his lashes. 

“Hey.” Your voice was a small whisper, overwhelmed by his proximity. Suddenly you felt his hand on your knee, your skin burning at the touch. His curls tickled your forehead and the tip of his nose touched yours. Your lips started tingling with anticipation. Your hand found his, that was still resting on your knee, as if it had a mind on its own. His fingers effortlessly tangled with your own.

“Harrison.” You pressed out. “You’re drunk.” There was nothing you wanted more than for him to kiss you. But not like this. Not when he was so drunk he could barely stand straight. Because you were sure that when he was sober tomorrow, he wouldn’t remember. Or worse, he’d regret it. 

Harrison leaned back and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “You’re right. And you” He pointed his finger at you “are not drunk enough.” With that he detangled his hand from yours and got up from the coffee table making his way to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, watching as he ran a hand through his hair before vanishing in the crowd of people. You let out a breath and buried your face in your hands. 

Looking back now, you always wonder if you should’ve let him kiss you. If that would’ve changed anything. But you had been too much of a coward. Too scared you would ruin your friendship. But now you didn’t even have that anymore, so what was holding back good for? Nothing. Nothing but the big old what if.  

-

second chances 

[justjstuff]

Shizune’s Character Study...ish

This is an answer to this comment <3 I always love a good character study

First of all, I found your observation about Shizune not being in love very clever and astute. This was exactly what I intended to show through my writing without spelling it out. Shizune left the village for what? Close to two decades? She spent more time away then in Konoha and she came back to a mountain of responsibility. Sure, she loved Genma when she was a child and some of it lingers, especially since Genma is, well, Genma. He’s a lovable hottie and a total flirt. But I don’t think she really let herself fall back in love with him. 

Now, this is a specific answer to your rb but also to a lot of reviews I got for the last chapter, so bear with me while I take this and go on a tangent xD

DoF is Sakura’s story. While we get a few sneak peaks into other characters’ PoVs, this is ultimately a story told by what she sees and understands. For over four years Sakura kinda shut down this part of her life that was “holding her back” before she became a proper ninja. She focused on her career and her training and just now she’s realising the repercussions of that. Namely, not being aware that people in her own team were together, the Genma and Shizune situation and in a way the impact she has around Konoha. So Sakura doesn’t know the whole story here and Genma x Shizune isn’t the focus of this story so while I explore some of it, it will mainly be the part of it that affects Sakura directly. People are allowed their privacy and even though Team Ro is close, that doesn’t mean that they have to know every single thing that goes on with each other.

So yeah, back to Shizune. When you said she was just waiting for him to fuck up and not telling everyone was a way for her to have a clean way out, you were absolutely right. This is the video that inspired me to write Shizune telling Kurenai about their relationship. In my head, she wanted to vent for a while but was scared of other’s reaction and then it slipped when she was drunk talking to her friend. Shizune is allowed to be cautious with her heart. Just like Sakura is. 

I think there’s a trend in media that we need to break when it comes to how we see women. A man can be a jerk and then be called deep because he was just protecting his feelings while a woman is a bitch when she’s looking out for herself. This comes from a place where we hold women in a position to always be nurturing and kind, to put others before her. Women can’t be mean, women can’t be angry, women can’t be assertive without being immediately judged by us as bitches (*cough* specially asian women, tiger women? yeah i see u *cough*). So yeah, Shizune is a bitch for not trusting Genma when he’s shown to be deeply afraid of commitment, a frankly unreliable partner with his long days away on extremely dangerous missions. 

Now, all of this I will briefly touch upon in later chapters (I think about three chapters from now? It’s already written) but you have to keep in mind the type of person Shizune is. She’s the Hospital Director and she’s aware there’s a very serious war brewing in the shadows. She works a lot and she’s always in the village dealing with all of this bullshit while Genma is a part of the most dangerous team in ANBU. She’s scared and frankly she’s tired. She wants stability and she wants something that she might not find in Genma. Y’all know I love Genma but in my eyes there’s no way Shizune can be condemned by the way she’s acting. She should be mindful that she’s hurting Genma (and she is, you just don’t get to see it bc again, not their story) but she can’t hurt herself in the process of making things comfortable for him. 

Now, there’s something that worries me about some of the comments I’m receiving. I get that a lot of people love Shizune and heavily ship Genma x Shizune but you have to take a step back and actually read the characters I’m writing. See them for what they are in this fic and kind of let go of your preconceived notions about them. Either that or stop reading the fic, lol. Anyways, some people were worried that this would drive a wedge between Sakura and Shizune and were sad because they feel like Sakura needs more female relationships and that they wished to see their closeness in a way they didn’t get to see in canon...

I get that. Y’all know that DoF was created with this heavily in my mind and it’s something very important to me, to give these characters that were done wrong some form of justice. That does not mean I’ll simply put every single female as super close friends and call it a day and yay female power. This is also a current trend I see where authors (and I mean screenwriters and the such, mostly) are heavily leaning into this woke version of feminism that just feels demeaning to me and while it’s leagues better than blatant misogyny it’s not exempt from criticism. 

My female characters have depth and they have their own personality which does mean that they’ll clash sometimes, there will be girls who don’t really get along with other girls, there will be petty grievances, there will be angry women, and sad women, and fucking deranged women. Because that’s what I want to see in mainstream media. I don’t want a simplistic version of what it means to be a women broadcasted to everyone and I will never write that even though I don’t have all of that reach. 

Oof, all of that to tie back to Shizune’s and Sakura’s relationship. In canon, I did miss seeing a strong bond between them but not in the way that some people want to see in this fic. I wanted them to be family. And you don’t always have to have a lot in common with family, or even like them, to deeply care for them and love them. DoF!Sakura left the hospital work after six months. She trained her ass to the ground and she was most often away on missions. She moved into the Senju Estate but Shizune always had her own place. DoF!Shizune is buried in hospital work, she has responsibility and most importantly, she has distance from Tsunade. She’s still seen as her former apprentice and she’s still her pseudo niece but she’s making her name outside of Tsunade’s shadow here. She’s not an assistant and she’s not always glued to Tsunade’s side, she’s the fucking Hospital Director. Sakura and Shizune drifted apart and no amount of woke let’s-scream-feminism-at-the-top-of-our-lungs can change that when they simply do not have that much in common. They grew apart and that’s okay. They still love each other. 

@hatake-sakura88 , I won’t answer everything in your comment because some things will be addressed later on and I don’t wanna spoil anything yet. Thank you for caring enough about my fic to engage and for being super polite and a sweetheart in general <3 

This post will probably be reblogged later with a more in depth character study of Shizune (both in canon and in Daughter of Fire)

[samanthadalton]

Gift and a curse part 1

pairings: Bianca x f! mc (Charlie) 

A lot of you actually wanted this fic which makes me so happy because Bianca deserves all the love. 

(also just wanted to add that when i played the game i romanced mackenzie but for this fic and for the story to make sense i’m romancing adam)

context: rewrite of chapter 12, where Bianca admits her feelings for mc and I give their relationship a bit more depth 

reader discretion is advised as there’s mentions of slight internalised homophobia and abuse 

taglist: @cloud9in @jaxsmutsuo @penda-bear @alleycat97 @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @crazzyplays @avalawrencefl @itszdavenport @annamaries-things @rory2107 @gamechoices-player @oxjenayxo @suoirallesalta @boopbapbeepbop @queensayeed @fantasy-of-fiction @baronyvampire @vampiregod325 @waterinathermostat @sanguetripasebolodechocolate (i added people who replied, reblogged and liked my post asking about the fic, some people weren’t showing up on the tag im sorry :((( but if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊) 

word count: 3.4k 

After spending the night making up with Adam, Charlie stands on her front porch, savoring the feel of the sun on her skin, reveling in the wave of content that is washing all over her. She’s broken out of her reverie when a familiar voice calls out to her and a small smile creeps up on her lips. 

“Beautiful day right?” Bianca walks down the pathway, her neck craned upwards gazing up at the sky. 

Charlie hums in response, “even more now that you’re here.” She catches Bianca freeze for a split second before plastering a bright smile as she walks up the steps to stand next to her. “So what brings you over here?” Charlie takes a small sip from her glass of iced tea before settling it down on the small table next to her, looking over at the model expectedly. 

“Just wanted to check up on you after yesterday, it was kinda intense. How did it go with Adam?” 

“We had a long talk last night and I finally feel like we’re on the same page again. We managed to put the whole elopement thing behind us.” Charlie waves her hand, dismissing her original predicament, “again thank you for your advice on the roof, it helped me get my head straight.”

When Charlie glances over at Bianca, there seems to be a shift in her energy, her usual peppy self is replaced with an unfamiliar expression on her face, one filled with anguish. “That’s…great. I’m glad to hear it.” 

Charlie lets out a small laugh, “yeah that sounded really convincing.” She squints her eyes, assessing the model. Bianca looks like a deer in headlights, as she watches Charlie’s gaze roam up and down her body, before the AME contestant flashes a teasing smile. “Oooohhhhh. I see what’s going on here.” Charlie says tauntingly. 

Bianca splutters, “oh- you, you do?” A blush creeps up to her cheeks as she shifts awkwardly, unable to meet Charlie’s gaze. 

“I think someone has a little crush.” Charlie jests taking a small step forward. “You were hoping Adam and I don’t make up because you want Adam all to yourself.” 

“Charlie..” Bianca trails off as the girl teasingly pokes at her side, all colour drained from her face. 

“That ‘honey’” Charlie raises her fingers in air quotes, “of yours that you were being all secretive about, you were talking about him right?” 

“You don’t get it. Adam isn’t the one I like.” Bianca blurts out as she snaps her gaze up to the brunette, her eyes staring longingly. Realisation begins to dawn on Charlie as she comprehends Bianca’s revelation and all sense of amusement is wiped from her face. 

“I- what?” Charlie begins blinking rapidly, stunned into submission. 

“It’s you I have feelings for.” Bianca looks at the girl with sadness in her eyes as the silence looms between the two of them. Worry seems to take over Charlie, as her eyes roam the space in front of them, she knows Bianca would never intentionally sabotage her but being on AME means there are prying eyes everywhere and the last thing she needs is for Vince to have some leverage over her. She grabs Bianca’s hand and pulls her into the house, closing the front door behind them. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Simultaneously the girls’ gaze drift down to their intertwined hands and Charlie carefully tears her hand out of Bianca’s before running a distressed hand over her face. “How long have you felt this way, I mean I didn’t even know you liked girls like that.”

Bianca visibly tenses, a grimace appearing on her face, “it’s been on and off season 1 and 2 of AME. I thought I could suppress my feelings but after our kiss in Vegas it’s only been getting stronger.” Bianca sighs heavily, slumping her shoulders tiredly as makes her way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Charlie follows close behind and sits next to her, while keeping a safe distance between herself and the model. “And I’ve always been attracted to girls but,” she sinks further into the couch, her entire demeanour crestfallen. “Being a lesbian model in an industry as cutthroat as the model one isn’t easy. A lot of people just assume that it’s easy and that I’m this carefree or this egotistical person and-” she trails off unable to finish her sentence. 

“Hey,” Charlie shifts in her seat, edging closer to Biance, wrapping her in a hug, “you don’t have to explain anything I get it.” She soothing rubs her back, as Bianca settles her face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling lulled by the sense of security it brings her. “I just, I-, Bianca I’m getting married in a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” Bianca pulls herself out of Charlie’s arms, wiping away the few tears on her face. “I’m sorry to put you in this position Charlie but I just know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t say anything.” She sits up a little straighter, conviction beginning to settle in her. “Charlie if you don’t feel the same, tell me right now and I’ll walk away and we can pretend that this didn’t happen, and I’ll make peace with the fact that you choose Adam.” 

Charlie gawks at Bianca, perplexed, the silence from the AME contestant an indication that the feelings may be returned. The model takes her chances and takes Charlie’s hand in hers, her thumb circling the brunette’s knuckles. “Or.. we can acknowledge that you feel something for me, whether it’s a tiny spark or whatever, you feel something for me and we do something about it.” 

Charlie pulls her hand out of Bianca’s and exasperatingly huffs, “what are you talking about?” 

“Come on Charlie, it’s just us here,” Bianca gestures to the empty room, “I know you picked up on my indirect flirting,” although her tone is teasing, her eyes tell a different story. Charlie feels herself almost losing herself in the intensity of Bianca’s hazel eyes but her mind drifts to Adam and she tears her gaze away from her. 

“Maybe, but Bianca this is crazy, I don’t even know what I feel.”

“Then go on a date with me.” 

“What? Oh my god.” Charlie looks at Bianca, shocked while Bianca’s expression is full of determination. 

“We’ve never been on a solo date so go on one with me, tomorrow.” 

“I-, what about Adam?” 

“What about him? Charlie this is about you and your feelings, and I know they exist because you haven’t denied it.” Charlie laughs, shaking her head slightly, the AME contestant is a lot of things but a liar isn’t one of them, at least not when it comes to real life. “Don’t you wanna explore this and see where it goes? Who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised.” 

Charlie knows she should say no, her and Adam are finally in a good place but a tiny part of her knows Bianca is right and she can feel the butterflies in her stomach as the model watches her. “Okay.” 

……

The next day after the challenge, Bianca drags Charlie away from the rest of the group and takes her to the rooftop of the AME mansion. Awaiting for the pair is a blanket carefully laid out on the floor, surrounded by pillows and a big picnic basket sitting in the middle. 

Stunned, Charlie turns to Bianca, admiration in her eyes, “Bianca you did all of this for me?” 

Bianca flashes one of her dazzling smiles before settling on the blanket and patting the seat next to her, “of course I did babe. Now come and sit.” Charlie moves to sit opposite the model, she cranes her neck upwards to catch the faint light of the sun shining through the sky behind the clouds. 

“How did you even get all of this up here?” 

“I told the production team that the bride demanded a mini picnic and that they should oblige with her requests or face her wrath.” 

“My wrath? You make me sound like some sort of villain.” 

“You? A villain? Never. Now lets see what they have in here.” Bianca scrambles through the picnic basket and pulls out a bottle of champagne and a platter of mini sandwiches. 

“Wow, this looks really good.” Charlie picks up a sandwich, and all but moans when she takes a bite, “oh my god this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had.” 

“Let me taste,” Bianca leans forward and opens her mouth a little and Charlie places the rest of her sandwich in the model’s mouth, her fingers slightly brushing over her lips as she does. They both feel a jolt of electricity, but Charlie quickly retracts her hand, and anxiously settles it by her side. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

The girls awkwardly trail off looking off into the distance before the sounds of Bianca pouring the champagne breaks the silence. 

“Look babe, I don’t want this to be awkward. I mean we’re best friends, there’s no reason why we can’t use this time to get to know each other better.” She offers Charlie one of the flutes of champagne, which is gratefully accepts. 

“You’re right, so where do we start?” The girls clink their glasses together and the conversation begins to flow smoothly. 

Bianca talks about her past, how her family grew up poor and how she turned to modelling so she could financially support her parents. Charlie laughs along as Bianca tells her the story of her first gig and how she lied about her age so she could legally be there and how her mother wasn’t happy with Bianca taking up modelling at first, but couldn’t be prouder once she began making it in the big leagues. Bianca also tells Charlie about the issues surrounding her sexuality, how she has to hide who she is because she doesn’t want to be blacklisted or seen as an outcast just because she loves women, because models tend to be very judgmental. Charlie intently listens, part of her gratified that Bianca is sharing this part of her life with her, because it’s definitely not easy for her too. 

When Bianca bares her soul in front of Charlie, Charlie only finds it fitting to bare hers too. She goes deep about her life, things that she hasn’t even told Adam about because she’s worried about what he might think or say. But there’s something enticing about Bianca that simply makes it easy for her to tell her anything. And so Charlie tells Bianca about her abusive father, how he made her and her mother’s life hell for years until her mother had the courage to leave him and since then they haven’t looked back. She talks about how she went to school for a degree in economics but couldn't really find a secure job once she left college so she had to work in a small bookstore so she could make a living. 

The conversation wasn’t all doom and gloom, the two reminisced about past relationships and embarrassing moments, their hopes and dreams, practically every topic under the sun. However, there was one subject that didn’t come up and that was AME. No words were spoken about production, Adam, the show itself, it’s like the girls completely forgot that world existed. After talking for hours, Charlie sighs and moves to stand, stretching her arms as she does. 

“Hey where are you going?” Bianca playfully asks, throwing a grape at the girl’s leg. 

“I just need to stretch my legs a little, god knows how long we’ve been sitting like this.” 

Charlie moves towards the edge of the rooftop looking over the building, her gaze wistful as her mind wonders. Bianca joins her, her arms resting on the wall. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

Charlie doesn’t tear her gaze from her sky, her voice is low and soft as she speaks, “everything.” She turns her head and lifts it to gaze at Bianca, “have you noticed how we haven’t spoken about Adam at all tonight.” 

“Yeah I have. But you can tell me whatever’s on your mind. We’re friends before anything else.” 

Charlie laughs derisively, “no offence but I think you’ll be kinda biased.” 

Biance lets out a small airy laugh, “I promise to be as objective as I can.” 

Charlie sighs before looking out at the entrance of the mansion, the glow of the lights illuminating the pathway, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. “Tonight has been.. nice.” 

“Just nice?” Bianca teasingly raises an eyebrow which Charlie catches in her peripheral vision. 

“I mean it wasn’t what I was expecting. Some of the stuff I’ve told you, I’ve-, I’ve never told anyone before, not even Adam.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. I thought tonight would give me some clarity, but I’m just more confused than ever.” 

“And why’s that?” Bianca hums. 

“Because.. I think I’m falling for you and I don’t know what that means for Adam and I because I still love him too.” 

Hope glimmers in Bianca’s eyes when Charlie looks up at her, fear creeping into her own eyes. 

“You know what I think?” 

“What?” Charlie softly says. 

“I think that you do love Adam but,” Bianca has a pensive look on her face for a few seconds before it slowly shifts into resolve as it settles into her features. “But, I don’t think you’re in love with him. At least not anymore. I think you’re afraid of upsetting anyone or hurting anyone’s feelings so you’re forcing yourself to go ahead with this wedding when it’s not what you want.” 

Silence stretches between the two as Charlie mulls over Bianca’s words, her brows furrowed together in contemplation. 

“Charlie?” Charlie hums non-committedly, still lost in thought. “Charlie.” Bianca says a bit more sternly, which gets Charlie’s attention jerking her out of her thoughts. “Look babe, I think you’ve done so much for this show, I mean you’re having a wedding on national tv just to please the fans. I think you need to start doing things for yourself, be a little selfish.” 

The air between them crackles with intensity as the two look at each other, desire slowly beginning to flood in their system. Charlie deftly looks at Bianca’s lips before looking back up at her eyes, uncertainty looming before her eyes but she takes the plunge leaning forward capturing Bianca’s lips in a sweet kiss. Bianca moans a little as she deepens the kiss, her tongue tangling with Charlie’s as her hand moves to grip at the brunette’s waist. A familiar voice booms out behind them, and Charlie suddenly jerks back, horror plastered all over her face. 

“Mackenzie.” 

Mackenzie hovers by the entrance of the rooftop, nostrils flaring in anger, as her eyes dart between Charlie and Biance. 

“What the hell is going on here?” 

“Mackenzie it’s not what you think I-” Mackenzie raises her hand, and the words die out in Charlie’s mouth, as tears threaten to fall. Bianca, too stunned to move, stands awkwardly, her mouth hanging open but not daring to speak. 

“I think you need to leave,” Mackenzie’s glare snaps to Bianca, who solemnly nods in acceptance. 

“I’ll catch you around,” Bianca squeaks out before shuffling towards the exit of the rooftop. She throws Charlie an apologetic look before leaving the two girls on their own. 

“You have some explaining to do.” Mackenzie crosses over to Charlie, her arms crossed together, while she gives the girl a deathly glare. Charlie apprehensively wrings her fingers together, unable to meet Mackenzie’s gaze. “Why the hell are you kissing Bianca?”

A dam seems to break in Charlie, hot tears begin streaking down her face, as she begins to sob uncontrollably. Some of the anger in Mackenzie begins to dissipate as she tries to console her. “I don’t know what to do Mack.” 

“Let’s sit down.” Mackenzie guides Charlie to one of the chairs before pulling one out for herself and sits on it facing the brunette. The tough girl awkwardly pats Charlie’s leg as Charlie’s breathing becomes frantic, her chest heaving heavily. “Hey it’s okay.” Mackenzie does an exercise to help Charlie control her breaths, telling the AME contestant to slowly inhale, hold and then to exhale. After a couple of tries, Charlie feels like she’s back in control and nods gratefully at the tough girl. “Charlie, you need to tell me what’s going on.” 

Charlie takes in a deep breath and proceeds to tell Mackenzie everything, from Bianca’s admission to her indecisiveness between the model and her fiance. Mackenzie nods her head along to the brunette’s admittance, a blank expression on her face. 

“I don’t know what to do Mack, I’m torn.” 

“Are you serious? You love Adam, you’re going to marry him in a couple of weeks.” Mackenzie looks down at the ring that sits on Charlie’s finger.  

Charlie exasperatingly throws her hands in the air, “I know that! I’m not sure if that’s what I want anymore.” 

Mackenzie sits back in her seat, contemplating, “I’m one of your best friends, and I made a promise to you that I would do whatever I could to make this the best wedding ever.” she runs a distressed hand through her hair, “are you sure about Bianca? I mean this could be a crush or-” 

Charlie violently shakes her head, “no. It’s not a crush. It’s like-” Charlie gazes at Mackenzie, a euphoric look glistening in her eyes, “when you were younger did you ever want something so bad but you thought you couldn’t have it. And when you finally got it, it exceeded all of your expectations and made you happier than you thought was ever possible?” Mackenzie, purses her lips, her eyes lost in thought. A few moments later she nods. “That’s what it feels like with Bianca. I’ve always felt drawn to her, but I didn’t think she ever liked me like that, I didn’t think it was possible. But now it’s a possibility and I think that I can be happy with her. But the practical side of me thinks that I’m rushing into it. That I’m acting too rash or impulsive and that if I choose her I lose the stability I have with Adam and then I end up getting burned in the end because I’m rushing into something I barely know anything about.” Charlie shakes her head, “I’ve never felt so confused before.” 

“You know I’m never one for the sentimental crap but I think deep down you know what you want, I think you’re just afraid of hurting someone you care about.” 

Charlie laughs, “you know, Bianca said the exact same thing.” 

Mackenzie smiles, “and here I thought she was just another dumbwitted model.” Charlie playful swats at Mackenzie who laughs. “For real, I think you need to have a deep conversation with yourself and weigh out all the pros and cons. But I feel like you already know the answer.” 

Both of the girls fall into a silence as Charlie looks down at her ring, fiddling with it as she ponders. When she speaks, her voice is low and shaky. 

“How do I tell him?” Charlie's voice cracks as her lips quiver, as she holds back another wave of tears.

“If he truly loves you he’ll understand. It might take him a while but he’ll get it, he’s a good guy. He only wants you to be happy.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“Heh. I guess I’m just not one for indecisiveness, I usually know what I want and I go for it.” 

“I envy you for that.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow together, a skeptical expression on her face. “Do you think I’m rushing into it with her?” 

Mackenzie shakes her head, “no, I don’t. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I mean if I knew she’s a lesbian I would’ve put two and two together but, sometimes you just know who you want to be with. I mean, look at Adam’s parents. They knew each other for 3 months before they got married and they’ve been happily married ever since. You know what Adam’s dad told me his only regret was?” 

Charlie shakes her head, “what was it?” 

“His only regret was that he didn’t ask her to marry him sooner.” Charlie breaks out into a wide smile which Mackenzie returns. “Adam’s probably still awake, you should go and talk to him.” 

Charlie nods with determination, letting out a huge breath, “you’re right, I shouldn’t delay it.”

[rebelwrites]

Chapter Eighteen: Two Weeks - Grayson

As this is an original fic it is hard to tag, so I’d really appreciate it is you reblogged and shared with your friends and followers 🖤 and if you reblog with comments I will love you forever

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Falling For Red Masterlist

This Months Writing

Two weeks, fourteen days, three hundred and thirty six hours. And it had been the longest time of my life, no one had heard anything or even found any clues. No matter how hard we tried it was like Lola had disappeared off the face of the earth. I was driving myself crazy, I wasn’t really sleeping and when I did manage to get some sleep I was haunted with dreams of what could be happening to her.

Everyday I checked in with Phoenix but they weren’t anywhere closer either. Blade couldn’t get hold of Jacob either which confirmed my thoughts that he was the one to have taken her. I felt completely useless, I didn’t know her all that well so didn’t even know where to start looking. And I spent most of my time either hungover or drunk.

“Pops, what are you doing here?” I mumbled as I poured myself a coffee. This was my life source at the moment well alongside alcohol.

“I’ve come to check on you son” he said, his eyes full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I said, putting on a fake smile. But I knew full well he knew I wasn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Son I know you aren’t fine and that’s okay” he said placing his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s not like I have a right to feel anything other than fine, I didn’t know her” I said lying to myself “I only hired her to take someone out that’s all”

“We both know you are lying to yourself” he sighed “I saw the fire in your eyes the night of the gala. And if she didn’t mean anything why did you invite her? Stop lying to me son and more importantly stop lying to yourself. This girl means something to you and you know it”

“I just feel like this is my fault” I sighed as tears burnt my eyes but I refused to let them fall. “I hired her and now she is missing because of me. I should have walked her home at least”

“You need to stop beating yourself Gray” Dad said softly. “You will find her”

“What if we don’t? What if it’s too late?” I sighed running my hands through my hair.

“You can’t think like that, it won’t do you any good” he sighed “why don’t you go into the office, maybe it will help you take your mind off things”

“Yeah, maybe you are right” I nodded, placing my mug in the sink before heading to my room.

As I walked through the office, everyone was staring and I heard a few gasps at my appearance. I didn’t bother with my suit, what was the point? So as the people that worked the legitimate side of the company took in my appearance of a tight black shirt, black leather jacket, skin tight ripped jeans and trainers they didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t the boss they were used to but this was the real me. The suits were just for show. Ignoring everyone I headed straight to my office. Everywhere I went reminded me of Lola. Right now I would do anything to hear her call me an asshole.

I couldn’t take it anymore, something had snapped in me and I completely lost it. I needed to get my anger out and my poor office would be my victim. My hand balled into a fist as I threw it through the glass in the door, watching it shatter, followed by the pain of the glass piercing my skin. This was what I needed. I needed to feel something, anything.

Anything that wasn’t nailed down I was destroying. All the anger I had bottled up over the last two weeks just flooded out of me, like someone had opened the tap. All my emotions took over, hot tears ran down my cheeks as I flipped the coffee table, launching things at the wall. Anything I could do to try and make myself less guilty I was doing it.

This only lasted about half an hour before I ran out of things to break, collapsing on the floor surrounded by a room full of destruction. Did it make me feel any better? Did it fuck! Placing a cigarette between my lips, I didn’t care anymore as I laid on the floor staring at the ceiling.

Where are you Red?

The things I would do just to see her again, to hold her in my arms again, to tell her I loved her. Wait I don’t love her do I? I hardly know the girl.

I didn’t plan on stopping off at her house but I needed to check in with everyone, so here I was pounding my bloody fist on the door, waiting for someone to answer. A couple of moments passed before Maddox pulled the door open. A sad smile on his face. We all were feeling the same way.

“They are all in the kitchen” he nodded letting me in.

“Any news?” I asked as I wandered into the house.

“Not yet but we think we are close to something” Maddox sighed.

The house felt cold, the tension and atmosphere here was so thick you could almost see and taste it.

“What’s the latest?” I sighed walking into the kitchen leaning against the counter.

“Still no contact from Jacob” Blade sighed, running his hand over his face. “He did use his credit card like an idiot though, so we have a rough idea of where he is.”

“But that doesn't mean it will lead us to Red” I sighed. “Knowing him he probably is going to put us off the scent. Would he be working with anyone? Is there anyone that holds a grudge against you or her?”

In that moment you could see Blade had thought, before all the colour drained out of his face.

“Fuck” he shouted throwing his glass at the wall. “Why didn’t I see it sooner. Axel can you put a ping on my uncle’s phone, I’m just hoping this isn’t the case but if it is. Prepare for war boys”

“Who is your uncle?” I asked, praying he didn’t say who I thought he was going to.

“Reid fucking Rivers” Blade spat.

I wanted to be sick.

“If he has something to do with this then definitely prepare for war” I sighed running my hand over my face.

“What beef do you have with my Uncle?” Blade asked.

“I’m not just an investor, that was just a cover up” I sighed but the truth needed to come out. “I push most of this cities drugs, took over from my father a few years ago now, Reid and my old man used to be friends until my dad got control off the drug scene here and he has been trying to find ways to fuck things up ever since. Jacob managed to get a job working in the stocks side of the business and has been feeding information to Reid”

The truth was out now and even though it should have been a weight off my shoulders it wouldn’t be until I told Lola.

“I hired Lola to take Jacob out” I sighed.

“Fuck this is worse than we thought boys” Axel said as his face dropped at the realisation of what was about to go down.

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @little-diable @band--psycho @mrsmarvelous1995 @pancakeisreading

[capcarolsdanver]

Faking It (Part 4)

Summary: This was a request for a Carol Danvers fake dating fic that will be a multi-chapter series, likely 4 parts! Who doesn’t love a fake dating fic?

Stories come out about Carol and her.. sexual escapades. This could potentially be PR trouble for the Avengers so Tony and Steve convince Carol that maybe the best way out of this mess is to convince the public she is in a committed relationship.. with the reader, her best friend who has feelings for Carol, but believes her feelings aren’t reciprocated. What could possibly go wrong??

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Okay, we all know this took way too long. I’m still not even entirely sure I’m happy with this chapter even after rewrites and edits but I’m not gonna have you guys wait any longer so this is what I’ve got for you! A head’s up, this part is long. Like, looong. As this is the final part to the series I really would appreciate any feedback people have for this part and the series as a whole! Also may consider writing an epilogue maybe sometime but that depends on feedback from this part! Really hope you enjoy this and I’d like to thank everyone who has read this series and liked/reblogged it! Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission. PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

“So. How’s it going with Carol?”

You and Nat are both lazing beside each other on the large couch in the open entertainment area of the compound, a blanket thrown over you both while some movie Nat had put on plays on the large screen on the wall.

A handful of the team had left earlier that afternoon for a mission, so you and Nat had decided to wait in the open room for them to return, knowing they’ll pass you on their way back into the compound. Carol was included in this mission and you were maybe a little too eager to see her return.

“Everything’s going according to plan,” you reply with a shrug. “We’re going to Tony’s party together on Saturday night.”

“Aw, cute,” she teases and you can’t help but chuckle at her.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” All you can do is shake your head at her. Nat glances at you before watching the screen again. “Seriously, Y/N. Don’t you think that by now you should be able to admit your feelings for her? With what you’re going through, I think you should be allowed to vent and talk to someone about it.”

You remain silent for a long moment.

Out of everyone here, Natasha has always been the one who can read you so well, often times even better than yourself. So, you obviously know that she would have picked up on your feelings for Carol shortly after they developed, very likely before you had even known about them.

And Nat has always been one of your closest friends here besides Carol, so you know that anything you speak to her about will be kept between the two of you.

That’s what gives you the confidence to whisper a quiet “You’re right”, Natasha’s eyes flying from the screen to look at you again. She stays quiet but she doesn’t move her eyes from you.

“At least before all of this I could try to ignore it. But now- it’s impossible.” Your shoulders slump as you voice your thoughts. “I mean, we kissed, Nat. And it was so much better than I could have imagined.”

You let out a tired sigh and run your hand across your face. “I should have never agreed to this. How could I have expected this to end well?”

“Hey, listen. Things might not be how they were before this whole thing started, but why does that mean it has to be a bad thing?”

You look at Nat skeptically and she offers you a confident nod.

“Let’s go over the facts, okay? You and Carol have been flirting with each other for forever, though you’ve been trying to convince yourselves that it’s just playful banter. She practically melts every time you smile at her, which is a lot. I wish I’d never noticed the amount of times she’s undressed you with her eyes when you don’t look. And she literally took it upon herself to become the softest girlfriend imaginable without even realising that there was a camera on her.”

You blink at Nat as she lists things off, your mind racing at her words.

“So let’s face it. You both have feelings for each other. And correct me if I’m wrong but I think you might finally be starting to realise her feelings too, just like the rest of us always have.” Your blush is answer enough for Nat. “So who says that you both can’t come out of this with an even better relationship than you had before?”

You open your mouth to respond, but approaching voices make you stop. The returning Avengers walk into the room, voices booming and laughing loudly. You can’t make out a single word as they loudly chatter over the top of each other.

Amongst the group, Tony spots you and Natasha on the couch.

“There’s our best girls!” He says, grinning at the sight of you both. This causes Carol to glance in your direction too, finding your eyes already on her.

You smile and wave at her, though you feel a little dejected when she does nothing more than glance at you and Nat, giving you what barely qualifies as a smile and nods.

“You all made it back in one piece, then?” Nat asks.

“Depends on what you define as ‘one piece’,” Bucky replies cheekily, holding up his metal arm.

Nat snorts in response. “You’re an idiot.”

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m pretty beat. I’m turning in for the night,” Steve announces. The rest of the team nod in agreement, aside from Carol, who thinks she’s being subtle about looking at you, and Tony.

“I think I might head to the lab for a while. I’ve got some things to work on,” he says.

“Alright, suit yourself. See you all tomorrow,” Steve waves and heads in the direction of the team’s private rooms, the rest of the group in tow.

Carol seems unsure of what to do, moving to take a step after the group as she watches them walk away, but ultimately staying put where she is.

You hear Natasha let out a light laugh next to you and your eyes leave Carol’s form as Nat pushes the blanket off her lap and stands up, shooting you a quick wink.

“Need any help in the lab?” She asks, catching up to Tony.

“Sure. Although, I don’t know how much help I’m gonna get from you in there,” he jokes, earning himself a shove from Nat as they both laugh.

Carol watches them leave, keeping her eyes on the empty doorway for another moment before turning back to you. She finds your form somewhere in the pile of blankets you’ve been left with on the couch.

You sit up and adjust your position on the couch, acutely aware of her eyes on you the entire time.

“Well, are you gonna come sit with me, then?”

“Do you want me to?” Your brow furrows on its own accord at her cautious tone.

“Of course I do.”

She walks over to the couch and stops short, oddly quiet as she glances at you. You pat the spot next to you where Nat had just been and she smiles at you before sitting down.

“The mission went well, then?”

She nods. “Yeah, it went as smoothly as we could have hoped. It was pretty tiring, though. I’m definitely just glad to be back here now,” she says, her voice softening, and she maintains eye contact with you despite to hint of pink appearing on her cheeks.

“Yeah, me too,” you say.

You both just smile at one another until Carol eventually breaks the eye contact to look at the screen.

“So what are you watching?”

“Oh,” you say as you glance at the screen now, too. “I don’t actually know. Something Nat picked out that I really wasn’t paying a lot of attention to, to be honest.”

“Right.” There’s a beat of silence and you can how lost in thought Carol seems to be. “So what were you paying attention to, then?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, something obviously had you distracted,” she alludes and you catch onto what she’s implying pretty quickly.

“You’re still jealous of Nat?” You say it in a teasing tone, though you’re too busy studying Carol’s every move and expression to bother with the accompanying teasing smirk.

She shrugs, struggling to keep her eyes on you.

“You two just seem very close lately.”

“And you and I don’t?” You shoot back gently, curious to see how far you could push the particular topic.

At her stuttering, blush filled response, you touch her arm and she stops and looks at you.

“Nat and I aren’t together, if that’s what you’re wondering. Never have been and never will be.”

At this point, you aren’t sure if you imagine the relief that crosses Carol’s face or not, but it gives you the confidence that you need to get your next sentence out.

“Besides, as much as I love Nat, she’s well aware that she’s not my favourite.”

Carol is once again lost for words. She blinks at you a couple times before a rare shy smile graces her face.

“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way.” You reach across Carol for the remote and turn off whatever movie Nat had put on, going back to Netflix’s main page. “What do you want to watch?”

You hand Carol the remote and she begins searching through the selection of movies. While she does, you throw the blanket over her too, unable to hide your own smile.

“Ooh, I love this movie!” She says, landing on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and hitting play and you both fall into a comfortable silence as the movie plays. This goes on for another 20 or so minutes before you glance at Carol, who you only just now realise looks absolutely exhausted.

Her eyes are still happily glued to the screen, though, so you don’t bother to try to coax her to go to bed. You instead move to rest your head on her shoulder and she throws an arm over you to pull you closer. You happily shift your body to melt further into Carol’s.

You’re not really sure how much more of the movie plays before your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

————————

“Well isn’t this just the cutest thing?”

You’re pulled out of your slumber from the voice coming from somewhere above you. You barely react, though, scrunching your face and shifting your body a little, eyes remaining tightly shut.

“Quick, Nat. Get a photo.” This has you opening your eyes.

Clint and Nat are both standing over you, wide grins on their faces as they look down at where you and Carol are still huddled together on the couch. There’s blankets still covering you both, and you’re practically lying on top of Carol.

“What the fuck are you two doing?!” You growl as quietly as you can manage, glancing down at Carol to ensure you don’t wake her up as you careful manoeuvre yourself into a seated position.

“Oh, nothing. Just documenting this moment so on your wedding day you two can look back at how this all started and laugh,” Nat says, pointing her phone at you and taking several photos.

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you hiss, feeling Carol stir next to you.

“What the hell is going on?” She rubs her eyes and attempts to focus on the scene she’s suddenly found herself in.

“Why don’t you tell us, Miss “We’re not a real couple” Danvers,” Clint quips.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted to die today,” Carol snarls back, her face immediately shifting into a harsh glare towards Clint.

“Alright, we’ve both already had our lives threatened, so I think it’s time we leave you two alone,” Nat laughs. She winks before she turns away and you grab a cushion from the couch and throw it after her as her and Clint walk away.

“Sometimes I forget that we’re surrounded by assholes almost all of the time here,” Carol deadpans and you chuckle, moving aside to allow her to sit up.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. I’m starting to make a real habit of that, huh?”

“I don’t mind,” she says, that same smile from last night returning to her face. You smile back and for a long moment you both just sit there smiling at each other until your grumbling stomach breaks the silence.

Carol laughs at you. “Time for breakfast, then?” She teases, standing up and grabbing your arms to help you to your feet too. “Come on.” You both head towards the kitchen and when you enter the room, you stop at the sight of a familiar figure already behind the counter.

“Thor!” You exclaim, racing the rest of the way into the kitchen. Thor turns around and is greeted by you practically tackling him into a hug, though he doesn’t even slightly budge from the force of you colliding with him. Instead, he happily throws his arms around you too, beaming.

“Y/N! I missed you!”

Carol leans against the bench and looks on fondly.

Thor is practically like a big brother to you so you absolutely love it whenever he returns back to Earth from whatever space adventures he’s been on. When you two separate, Thor notices Carol too.

“Ah, Carol! Good to see you!” She smiles and nods. As you watch their somewhat awkward interaction, you can’t help but chuckle at the memory of when Thor once tried to hug Carol in greeting and got photon blasted halfway across the room.

They get along just fine. Pretty well, in fact. Carol always speaks highly of Thor and vice versa. But Carol just isn’t particularly affectionate with anyone besides you. And maybe Peter on the odd occasion.

She tends to not really expect it and usually reacts poorly, always offering a sheepish apology to whoever happens to be on the receiving end. But that had never really been an issue with you, which you’re glad about because you are definitely a hugger.

And if Carol really had to, she’d admit that she actually enjoys that about you, despite her general distaste of physical forms of affection.

“Woah, that’s a lot of pancakes, Thor,” you say, noticing multiple stacks on plates across the counter. Thor had always been a sucker for his favourite breakfast food since his first visit to Earth and whenever he comes back he can’t seem to get enough of them. He’d spent days upon days trying to perfect his recipe and make the perfect pancakes.

“Oh, please help yourself!” He happily offers and you and Carol thank him before grabbing a small stack of pancakes each.

“Were you gonna eat all of these on your own if we hadn’t shown up?” Carol asks Thor, who already has half a pancake stuffed in his mouth. He blinks at her, chewing on his food and swallowing it.

“…No,” he eventually replies, not even slightly convincing. You and Carol both laugh and he just shrugs before shoving the other half of his pancake in his mouth. “What can I say? I have a large appetite,” he mumbles out around his mouthful of food.

“When did you get back?” You ask.

“Early this morning.” You nod before noticing a shift in Thor’s expression. “You know, I noticed you on the couch this morning as I walked in. I almost said hello then until I realised you were both asleep.”

It’s not exactly a question he asks, not even an implication. It’s really just a statement. But the smile on his face tells you he thinks he knows what’s going on.

It’s honestly something you’ve always loved about Thor. The fact that he never outright voices his speculations about people’s personal lives, unlike the rest of the Avengers. Of course you always tell him everything eventually anyway, but until that happens he always gives you the space he feels you need to avoid making you uncomfortable.

Given the situation, though, you know you better give him the heads up before his welcome back party.

“Yeah. There’s definitely some things we need to catch up on,” you chuckle nervously.

“While you two do that, I’m gonna go get ready for the day. We’re still heading out today, right?” Carol asks, standing from her seat at the breakfast bar.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

When you last spoke to Steve and Tony, they were happy with how well you and Carol were doing and asked you to just make one more appearance out somewhere leading up to the party.

“Okay, I’ll meet you by the front in, like, 3 hours?”

“Sure,” you say and you and Thor watch as she leaves.

When you look back at Thor he has a cheery smile on his face, and you spend well over an hour explaining the situation, even confessing your feelings for Carol to him. You ask him about his most recent adventures, too, but being the type of guy he is, he’s more interested in listening to what you have to say and offering you advice.

You seriously couldn’t have picked anyone better to refer to as your big brother.

You eventually go your separate ways so you can get ready and catch up with Carol again. You check your watch on your way. You’re a little early but knowing Carol, she’s likely already there waiting for you.

You stop short before you walk through the walkway to the lobby of the compound when you hear Carol’s voice in conversation with someone else in the room.

“Do you think you’ll miss being able to flirt with as many women as you can at the party, then?” You recognise the other voice as Rhodey’s.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Carol replies. “I mean, I usually find these parties a lot of fun. This one won’t be like that, though. I’m being made to stay on my best behaviour,” she jokes.

“So then what about Y/N? She’s holding you back from having fun?”

“It’s not that,” Carol says. “It’s just.. Tony’s parties are usually where I get to let loose, you know? I get to forget about all my responsibilities, forget about all the missions gone wrong and just enjoy myself. But this whole situation with Y/N.. it just kinda feels like I’m being kept on a leash.”

You’d be lying if you said Carol’s words didn’t sting. Ever since this whole mess of a situation began, you felt like things with Carol had been shifting. That things were different, even better now than before, like Natasha had said. But it sounds like maybe Carol doesn’t quite agree with you.

Had you really been wrong this whole time? Had Nat and the others swayed you into thinking that Carol shared the same feelings as you? Did Carol really think that you were holding her back from being happy and having fun?

Had you really been so blinded by your own feelings for so long that you had just been imagining Carol’s longing looks, more frequent touches, more caring nature towards you? Even when the cameras were nowhere to be scene.

Maybe she was just playing along to spare your feelings until she was told she could be done with this.

All these thoughts hit you at once, and despite how overwhelmed and hurt you suddenly feel, you take a deep breath and approach the doorway, taking heavier than usual steps to make your presence known before you enter.

“Hey, there you are,” Carol smiles. You offer her a short smile in return, though it doesn’t quite make it to your eyes, and you walk up to the front door and wait for Carol to join you. She approaches you, eyes watching you carefully. “Are you-“

“Let’s just keep this simple today and get it over with, yeah?” You say, eyes still remaining ahead as you reach for her hand.

She looks you over, concerned, but nods in response. “Yeah, okay.”

You lead her along in silence, which is how most of your simple walk goes. You smile at all the right times, but you manage to keep the talking down to a minimum and the second you return to the compound you bid a short farewell to Carol and leave her standing alone, confused like never before.

————————

You manage to keep to yourself for the most part over the next day or so, though as the party approaches you know you can’t really continue avoiding everyone. Especially since you and Carol had already agreed to get ready together in your room.

As promised by Tony, Happy delivered your outfits to your rooms in time for the party. Carol is currently in your bathroom getting ready while you look yourself over in your mirror, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You’re wearing a navy a-line dress, with spaghetti straps and a side slit exposing the skin of your leg. Simple yet beautiful.

Your bathroom door opens while you admire your dress in the mirror and your eyes drift to the reflection of the doorway as Carol hesitantly steps through. Your breath is taken away from you as you look her over.

She’s wearing a navy suit jacket and a pair of tight trousers that match your dress, a white blouse underneath, the top button left undone. You feel your brain short circuit as you look at her. Again, the outfit itself is simple but it works so well. Especially on Carol.

Tony was right; Happy is good. You’ll have to compliment him on his unexpectedly good eye for fashion the next time you see him.

She joins you in front of the full length mirror, staring at her own form and nervously adjusting the jacket.

“I’m pretty sure this is the fanciest I have ever looked heading to one of Tony’s parties,” she admits. You chuckle and double check your makeup in the mirror, happy with what you’ve done. Carol seems to be doing the same but is evidently not pleased with some of her makeup, grabbing her eyeliner to attempt to fix it.

“Here,” you hold your hand out and she passes her eyeliner pen over to you. Carol has never really been as into makeup as you, which obviously makes a lot of sense with her being up in space so often. But you’re always more than happy to assist whenever she needs help with it.

She’s gotten much better with it on her own over the years, though, what with her increase in social events with the Avengers. As a result, you only have to fix her eyeliner a little on each eye before you pull back and check your work.

“Perfect,” you say, putting down the eyeliner and turning to the mirror once more. Looking at yourself and Carol next to each other, it’s striking just how good you both look together. You may be biased, but everything just seems to fit so well.

You feel eyes on you and catch Carol’s gaze in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” she breathes out as if she’s only just looked at you in your dress for the first time.

You can’t help it, but the words you overheard her say replay in your head. You feel your walls build up around you, telling you to be cautious to spare your own feelings.

“Thanks, so do you.” You reply somewhat stiffly. You can’t seem to do anything about the tone you speak in, so instead you drop your eyes from her and scan the room for anything else you might need, acutely aware of the step Carol takes towards you.

“Are you okay?” She asks and her hand comes to rest delicately on the side of your neck, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you say a little too quickly for Carol’s liking and you step back out of her reach, her hand falling back to her side. You spot your phone on the edge of your bed and pick it up, checking the time. “We better go. You ready?”

You barely give Carol room to answer before you open your door and step out into the hallway. She swallows thickly as she watches you, trying to figure out what’s changed in the last day or so to have you in such a cold mood.

When she steps out of your room to join you, she’s also greeted by Tony. He has a huge grin on his face and he whistles when he sees her.

“Wow, look at you two. Stunning.” He smiles at you like a proud dad. “So, listen. It’s a welcome back party, right? I know it’s still kinda fancy but it’s about as casual as my parties will ever get. There shouldn’t be too much pressure on the two of you.”

“Got it,” you nod.

“Obviously there will still be a lot of eyes on you. But that’s kind of the entire point. Just act like any regular, happy couple and we’ll be all set.” Tony says. “See you in there.” He smiles encouragingly at you and walks away, presumably to join the party.

Carol offers you her hand, which you take, and she walks you towards the large hall that Tony has designated for the party. You’re glad he chose one that was further away from the bedrooms. It gave you plenty of time to attempt to calm your nerves.

You walk through the large open doors and immediately it feels like all eyes are on you. It’s a feeling you aren’t at all comfortable with, but you just try to ignore it the best you can.

“Y/N!” You hear being called from the bar and look to see Thor enthusiastically waving you and Carol over. Carol nods at you and you walk hand in hand towards the bar.

The second you get near Thor he engulfs you both in a hug which Carol couldn’t have avoided even if she tried. He lets go of you with a massive smile on his face.

“Carol, may I interest you in a proper drink?” He holds up a flask of Asgardian alcohol for her to see and her face lights up until she glances at you.

“Uh, I better not tonight, actually,” she mutters. And again, her damn words from the previous day are right back in your head.

Thor doesn’t hide his surprise at her answer. “Later, then?” He asks hopefully.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

Thor nods and sees Steve approaching the bar, eagerly pouring a drink for him and handing it over to him. Carol looks more than tempted to reconsider Thor’s offer but instead pulls you away by your linked hands to join another conversation.

This goes on for the next couple of hours, moving between groups to chat and give a pretty convincing appearance as couple of the year. You eventually find yourself standing against the wall with Carol, observing the partygoers.

“It’s going well so far, right?” Carols asks.

“I think so,” you say with a shrug, though you’re honestly unsure quite how to gauge how well it’s going just yet.

“Have you actually noticed any reporters?”

“I’m not sure. There’s been a lot of eyes on us the entire night so far, though, so I figure that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah. Do you think we should be acting more couple-y?” Carol asks, facing you more directly. She moves her hand to your waist, looking at you in question.

Of course, you lose yourself in her eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this feeling for just a moment. You’re only human, after all.  But it doesn’t take long for her words to repeat in your head once more, and not even the way Carol glances down at your lips can get you out of your own head.

Before she can kiss you, you lean forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

“I think we’re doing okay,” you offer a small smile and pull away. “I’m gonna grab another drink and go talk to Wanda if that’s alright with you?”

“Oh. Sure, that’s fine.”

“I’ll come find you soon,” you say, squeezing Carol’s hand for good measure before you leave her to watch after you in total confusion as you walk away.

————————

“Hey, Thor. That drink still on offer?”

“Yes!” Thor says excitedly. Carol leans against the bar next to him and as soon as he’s done pouring her a drink she takes a sip.

“Oh, Jesus. I forgot how strong this shit is,” she winces and Steve laughs from the other side of Thor.

“I know, right?” He says, holding his drink up before drinking what’s left in his glass.

Carol knows to pace herself with this stuff. It affects her like absolutely nothing else. Usually, when Thor is there to offer it to her, she goes hard and ends up waking up in the bed of a total stranger with no recollection of what happened, though with a pretty good idea.

That can’t happen tonight for obvious reasons.

As Thor launches into one of his insanely eventful stories, she rests her arm on the bar and sips her drink, surveying the room until she spots you. You’re standing with Wanda, laughing at something the other woman has just said.

Something stirs inside Carol as she loosely follows along with Thor’s recounting of his journeys, all the while periodically looking for you amongst the many people crowding the room. She watches you excuse yourself from Wanda, heading over to talk to Sam and Bucky.

Somewhere in the middle of Thor recounting the events of a very graphic battle that he was apart of, Tony joins the conversation. Carol nods at him, taking another sip of her drink and doing another scan of the room. She eventually finds you in the crowd.

Having excused yourself from Sam and Bucky, you’re en-route to another group when a beautiful woman shows up seemingly out of nowhere, touching your arm to get your attention. Carol immediately freezes, her eyes locking in on the action. You stop to chat with the girl, a soft smile on your face that Carol regrettably realises she hasn’t seen all night until now.

Hey eyes stay glued to you, Thor’s stories long forgotten. Tony moves over to stand next to Carol.

“You two have done well tonight, you know?” He says, his eyes on the party in front of him.

“You’re not playing it too strong, too. The perfect amount of PDA in my opinion.” At the lack of a response, Tony turns his head to look at Carol. She clearly hasn’t paid attention to a word he’s said and he curiously turns to see whatever has Carol’s attention.

He sees you, laughing at something the unknown woman has just said. She takes a step closer to you as you take a sip of your drink. He looks back, studying the expression on Carol’s face for a moment.

“Wait a second, what exactly is happening here, Danvers? Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Carol’s eyes finally move from you, snapping to Tony’s.

“What? No. I’m just worried about our cover.”

Tony arches a disbelieving eyebrow. “Uh huh, I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re worried about.”

Carol glares at him, a common occurrence these days, but then her eyes are back on you, unable to help herself. She furrows her brow when the woman places her hand on your arm and keeps it there and she finally can’t watch anymore.

“Alright,” she says, grabbing her glass and downing the rest of her drink with a wince. “Nice chat, Stark, but I’ve gotta go.” She slams her glass back on the bar counter before storming off towards you without another word. Tony watches her leave.

“Yep. She’s got it so bad.”

You are so focused on the woman standing right in front of you that you jump when an arm appears at your waist.

“Hey babe,” Carol greets. She presses a kiss to your cheek and turns to the other woman, offering her nothing short of the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Sorry, do you mind if I steal my girlfriend for a minute?”

To the woman’s credit, she does look a little sheepish as she steps back. “No, go right ahead.”

“Thanks,” Carol says with a bite to her tone, grabbing your hand and dragging you through the party and to one of the smaller balconies attached to the hall.

When you’re sure you’re out of sight and out of earshot from at least the majority of the party-goers you rip your hand out of Carol’s grasp and sharply turn to her, stopping her in her tracks with your glare.

“What the hell, Danvers?”

“What? I can’t just have you potentially blowing our cover like that.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff. “Our cover is just fine. Nothing was even happening. I was just talking to her.”

“Just talking? It looked like more than that to me. She was on her way to being all over you.”

“All over me like you usually are with as many random girls as you want? So now I can’t even have a regular conversation with just one girl?”

“I haven’t even looked at any other girls tonight, let alone flirted with them. And since when do you chat to women at Tony’s parties, anyway?”

You weren’t expecting the accusatory tone in Carol’s voice, and it makes you see red. You’ve done so well to keep your feelings at bay since you’d overheard Carol talking to Rhodey, but she’s finally tipped you over the edge now.

“Okay, I think I get it now. You can’t have fun and let loose like usual so now you want to make me feel like shit for talking to someone new. Is that right?”

Carol is completely caught off guard by your anger. It would have been hard for her not to notice your cold demeanour the last couple days, but now she knows for sure that all has been directed at her.

“Y/N, that’s not it-“

“Are you sure? Because I know you think I’m the one keeping on a leash but right now it’s feeling a lot like it’s the other way around.”

“What?” Carol blinks at you, trying to make sense of your words.

“Well that’s what you told Rhodey, right? You’re being held back. You can’t have any fun. You’re being kept on a leash.”

“Y/N,” Carol starts.

“Don’t try to deny it, Carol. I heard you say it.”

Everything actually makes sense to Carol now. She isn’t sure how she hadn’t pieced it together before that you’d possibly overheard her. At least now, though, she knew she could clear things up for you. Thank god, because she’s now gotten a taste of being in your bad books and she isn’t particularly enjoying it.

“I won’t deny it. I do feel like I’m being kept on a leash,” she simply says. You scoff again and shake your head, already getting ready to walk away before Carol grabs your arm to keep you in place.

“But I never said you were the one holding me back. Hell, you’re the one thing keeping me sane through this whole thing.”

You maintain your harsh glare, though you stop trying to pull your arm from her.

“I just,” she lets out a short breath and looks at you. “I’m not used to having my every move monitored so closely. I’ve never had to behaviour particularly well at these things. It’s weird and uncomfortable and it’s hard for me to deal with but you’ve helped me a hell of a lot with everything.”

Your glare softens at the vulnerability that Carol has on show for you. She’s always struggled to express her feelings. She can’t find the right words and says things the wrong way half the time and you feel stupid that you hadn’t just asked Carol directly about what you’d overheard, given her track record with miscommunication.

You’d been too in your thoughts about your feelings for Carol and her possible feelings for you that you’d read things so wrong. You made an assumption and made things so much worse. You cringe at this situation you’ve somehow managed to cause. You’re just glad it hadn’t been a lot worse and that Carol was so forgiving of your occasionally petty behaviour.

“You know better than anyone that I don’t really respond well with being told what to do.”

You chuckle lightly at her and her face brightens at the sound.

“So you’re saying that you do have fun with me, then?” Carol laughs, thankful to not have your glare aimed her way anymore.

“You already know I do. In fact, I really liked the parts of the party that we spent together tonight. You know, despite you looking like you’d rather be anywhere else but with me the entire time.”

You roll your eyes at her, not at all surprised that her smart ass comments were already making an appearance again.

“That’s not true,” you laugh and then grow serious again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

Carol blinks at you and you watch her reaction with bated breath. “Do you mean that?” She asks softly and you smile at her and nod timidly.

“It could ruin everything we have but I don’t think I can keep hiding the fact that I want to be near you all the time anymore.”

“Well I can’t really blame you for that,” Carol says, a hint of a smirk on her face and you let out a laugh and smile widely at her when she almost casually places her arms around your waist.

“Shut up, Danvers,” you mutter.

“Make me,” she promptly replies and you only wait a quick beat before you’re pressing forward and capturing her lips with yours.

If you thought your last kiss was amazing, then this kiss was something completely new all together. The fact that you’re kissing Carol because you both want to, and not because of some fake narrative, has you smiling into the kiss, knocking your teeth with Carol’s.

You pull back, both laughing, before her arms tighten around your waist and she leans in to meet your lips again. She’s tentative with her movements at first; you both are really, but like last time, you both grow more confident and she ends the kiss with a nip to your bottom lip.

“You know, I hated seeing you with that other girl,” Carol admits.

“Yeah? Well, imagine how I felt having to watch you leave with all those women at literally every party Tony throws.”

Carol bites her lip, regret on her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you place your arms around Carol’s neck. “We’re here now. Let’s just leave the past in the past, okay?” You peck her lips reassuringly.

“Okay,” Carol whispers against your lips, stealing one more quick kiss. “Should we go back in?”

You sigh and drop your head to Carol’s shoulder for a second. “I suppose we probably should.”

“Come on. They want to see a happy couple. Let’s show them a happy couple,” Carol says and you lift your head and smile shyly at her, your mind still racing to catch up with these unexpected turn of events.

“Sounds good to me.”

You run your hands down Carol’s shoulders, down her arms until you reach her hands and you take them in your own. Carol lifts one of your hands to her lips and presses a kiss to it, earning a blush from you and she’s unable to fight the cheesy grin that makes its way onto her face.

She walks you to the door and holds it open for you. “After you, my lady,” she says and you laugh.

“Are you going to be this cheesy and chivalrous forever now?” You ask.

“Depends. Do you want me to be?”

“I just want you to be you,” you reply as Carol follows you through the door and takes your hand again.

“And what about you? Are you going to be cheesy forever now, too?” She teases and you chuckle in response before Nat calls you over from the group she’s standing in and you’re removed from the moment you and Carol are sharing together.

Not a problem, you think. You’ve got plenty of opportunities to share even more of these moments with Carol now.

——————————

This time, when you wake up in Carol’s arms, you don’t flinch away. Instead, you wear a sleepy grin on your face and press a soft kiss to her jawline, watching her stir for a moment before she settles again, a soft smile adorning her face.

You happily snuggle closer to her, pressing your face into the crook of her neck and drifting back to sleep without a single worry on your mind for the first time in weeks.

***** Series Taglist: @lovelylittlelionx @desaulniersbriannes @outofcontextavengers @traveler-at-heart @saucy-sapphic @mysticpansy (tag didn’t work)