#but maybe he could have still painted her the morning after they hooked up

[strawberrystepmom]

jotaro x f!reader. cw alcohol, age gap implied, unhealthy relationship implied. | divider by @cafekitsune, wc 1.3k

JK (DO NOT REPLY!): Want to get a beer tonight?

As if it’s mocking your twiddling thumbs, blinking in a beat with the laughter you hear in the back of your head, the cursor sits anxiously in the chat bubble just inches away from your face.

It’s 9:17 pm. It’s the eighteenth evening in August and as if a cosmic flip switched reminding him that it’s once again time to squeeze the last joy he can out of this year, Jotaro texts you. Just as he did last year. And the year before that. And the one before that…

Sighing, you tap out a quick “wrong number” and hover over the send button for a second longer than you actually want to. That second pushes you to highlight the entire text and erase it, a bubble indicating he’s typing popping up.

It disappears as quickly as it shows itself. You know it’s a take it or leave it offer.

Leaning against the wall in your bathroom, staring at your own towel clad reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, you groan the eagerness written all over your face. You know how this will go yet you can’t seem to learn better after all these years of the same rinse and repeat.

From August to October, Jotaro Kujo will be yours.

If you agree to go out with him tonight, he’ll come home with you. It’s a certainty, you can even feel warmth between your legs imagining welcoming him home for the first time in more than half a year. He’ll fall asleep next to you, wake up to make breakfast, kiss you on the temple and mumble an indistinct promise about seeing you later.

That later could be two days. One week. Two weeks. You don’t know exactly when it’ll happen but the second time he spends the night will be in the dog days of summer. Those fourteen sticky days that make you wish you existed anywhere but the sultry Gulf coast of Florida, the sun practically punishing you for attempting to distract from her shine when she catches wind of the way he gazes down at you even when she’s out.

He’ll come by your office at the Speedwagon Foundation, two buildings away from where his is located. You will be asked to join him for some evening research which is really just an excuse for him to take you out on a research vessel, a small bit comfortable speedboat, to catch one of those gorgeous sky painted sunsets. To review research. To talk, to silently enjoy one another’s company until the tension becomes too much and he kisses you while the stars wake from their daybed.

These stars will bring him home to you. You’ll spend your evening with your fingers tangled in sea-salt waved black hair streaked with gray. The dim lamp in your room will illuminate him for the faintest moment when you’re enjoying him afterward, still impeccably toned arms for his age wrapped around your waist. You’ll wonder, briefly, how you managed to catch Poseidon with nothing more than a worm on a hook.

The cold air of your apartment, technically a condo as you’ll correct him when he gives you shit about still not owning a home, will lull both of your heated bodies to sleep. A tangle of limbs, wishes and hopes that maybe August doesn’t have to leave so quickly though she’s days away from being a memory as the months before her.

September will have him in your bed every night.

“We’re headed to the same place in the morning,” he’ll deadpan through kisses though you’ll catch the tiniest note of amusement in his tone. “May as well.”

You won’t argue. Not when the proverbial clock is running out, the hot Florida summer fading into a less sticky fall. Maple trees across the Speedwagon Foundation campuses will rustle overhead while you walk in tandem through the courtyard, parting ways at the building that houses the corporate offices to your respective research labs.

The two of you will officially be put on winter standby at the end of September. This means the rest of the year will be spent stapled to desks, laptops writing grant requests for the first quarter of next year, and each other.

Your legs will be draped across his lap feeding him Halloween candy despite his protests. He’ll watch you stumble out of bed wearing nothing but his shirts that come down to your knees. You’ll cook dinner, he’ll come home to you or even more blissfully you’ll arrive together, at the same time, almost as if you’re a real couple.

November is when the cracks will begin to show. It isn’t restlessness that drives him from you, you realized several years ago, it’s fear.

“Do you want to spend Thanksgiving with my sister this year? She finally has room for us to stay.” You’ll ask, innocently, hoping for once you will get a resounding yes. A please. Anything that can help you believe this love is tangible, something he feels and wants, and not just an inevitability.

Instead you’ll get a non-committal hum.

“Have to check with my mom first. I’m sure she’ll find an excuse to come stateside.”

You’ll feel your heartbeat though instead of the usual warmth that fills you when you think of him it’ll be cold, the winter not yet making its way into the air but making its way into you. This is how it will always be.

By December he’ll be infrequently staying with you, if he is at all, flying between Tampa and Tokyo to visit his family. At least the members of it who are still living and want to see him. You’ll lay in bed, sniffling and recalling all of the times you’ve beamed with pride from the crowd while he’s spoken as Dr. Kujo.

How every time he’s made eye contact with you and smiled at you and you alone. How you’re the only one who even knows he’s smiling in the first place, the corner of his lip turned up just enough to expose a deep dimple.

You’ll be ready to call it off yourself by New Year. You even already know what you’ll send, a little bit tipsy from champagne and full of enough good cheer to keep the blues away.

You: i hope this one treats you better, jojo. happy new year ❤️

Jotaro will wake up, half a day ahead of you already in his homeland, and he’ll feel guilty. He’ll stare dumbly at his phone, that cursor blinking in the same cadence as your laughter. It’s a sound he can hear if it’s quiet for longer than a second, your inhale and exhale both.

He’ll stand and stare at himself in the mirror just as you are now, wondering what the right decision is. Can you forgive him if he doesn’t reach out to you again until next August? How many summers are left until what’s left of your patience runs out?

Rolling your shoulders, you pick up your phone and your thumbs work to type out a quick message.

You: been a while. reservoir in about 45? bet they’re dead tonight.

You don’t have the strength it takes to tell him no and he won’t either when he sees the name of your shared favorite spot. Not when your heart pounds as that same bubble pops up and disappears again, anxiety making every bit of you turn until a message appears on screen.

JK (DO NOT REPLY!): Sorry about that. We can talk about it more soon. Be careful.

The hourglass has already begun pouring its sand, the message the same as it always is. Sorry, see you later, let’s do it again. A stronger woman would take her own all caps, glaring advice but unfortunately you prefer to honor what the hands of fate hold for you, more enamored with a man whose love has a time limit more than you are yourself.

At least you’ll get him for five months.

[stationintern]

party 4 u

this is my favorite charli xcx song, and Harry has always played the leading role in my fantasies while listening to it. pls enjoy this fic. i've included multiple mentions of the duo frou frou as a treat for the girlies (anyone who loves frou frou as much as i do).

“Why is it called a pineapple?” Harry asks, leaning against a kitchen cabinet. The knob is digging into his spine, but he’s too loaded to move, let alone notice. He’s shed his pirate costume on various surfaces over the course of the night, his ruffled shirt the only sign left that he was anything at all in the first place.

Nobody replies, because Hermione– dressed as a fairy– is passed out at the kitchen island, hunched over on one of the barstools with her head cradled in her arms. She has a tendency to overestimate her ability to tell when enough is enough, but always ends up having more fun than any of them.

He never should have had this party, is still not sure what he was expecting to get from all this. Most of the people he invited came in their half-arsed costumes, ate ludicrous amounts of sweets, and got drunker than they’d planned to. Surely, his Halloween party should have been a success, right?

Yet, that was never the goal at all. There was one objective for the night, and it’s nearing three in the morning, still uncompleted. 

Yes, Harry Gatsby’d it. 

Eventually, Hermione is carried out over Ron’s shoulder amid hoarse goodbyes and ‘have a good night’s. Harry and Luna collect the cups, and the sink smells of pineapple and rum, of Draco’s breath after every pub night. They take down the streamers while Imogen Heap sings ‘I have to be somewhere/now where did I put it,” and Harry is reminded of the infinite times he was held sonically hostage to Draco’s Details CD on long drives. 

He feels nauseous, and can’t decide if it’s because of the lack of Draco’s presence, or the way he’d overindulged with every passing hour. He decides it’s because of Draco, because everything is. Draco is the reason he painted his bedroom walls blue, and threw this party in the first place.

Their little friends with benefits situation ended three years ago, and Draco’s moved on. Multiple times. But none of them stick, and with every breakup that spark of hope grows in Harry’s chest. That Draco will come back and finish what they started.

Eventually, Luna leaves too, and Harry’s left with a house devoid of all the things he’d placed in it to lure Draco in like a blonde fish to a Frou Frou CD on a hook. Nearing four, Harry leaves it on, lets the music remind him of better times when he wasn’t drunk, when he wasn’t slowly becoming one with the sofa, when Draco being in his house wasn’t something he had to carefully orchestrate.

It’s begun to rain outside, and he’s drifting off to the pitter-patter when the doorbell rings. The sound is like someone dumping a bucket of ice water on his head, and once again the hope that maybe it could be him overcomes the alcohol, just as it did every time a new guest arrived to the party.

It’s funny, how you can have hope for something and fully believe it to be impossible at the same time. The feeling sits in Harry’s mind after being drilled into him all night. Is it him? No. Is it him? No. Is it–

“You have to stop inviting me to things.”

Draco is wet, soaked– which is ridiculous, since he was always so silly about keeping out of the rain, the precise temperature of his warming charms. He’s in his robe, the same grey one with hairspray crust on the shoulders that Harry liked to scratch at. Underneath the fabric there are freckles from Draco’s bad experience with a tanning booth that he hasn’t bothered to magic away. Harry likes to think it’s because he knew how fond he was of them. He knows that body and the stories behind it. He knows Draco so well it’s sickening.

“What?”

“Just– stop, alright? I can’t keep coming up with excuses the next day.”

He looks like a petulant child– fists at his sides, the crease in his brow, the sheer stubbornness that coats every word.

“I’m sorry?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be sorry for, and is still reeling from his learned experience being proven wrong so abruptly. 

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to remind me. You- you invite me to your house. You give me… I get a taste of what it’s like to be around you again and then I leave, and I just can’t any more! I can’t come to your parties, your pub nights, your fucking luncheons. You’re cruel, Harry. This is all so…”

Harry reaches out a hand, rests it on Draco’s shoulder, “I’m so confused right now.”

“You’re swaying,” Draco notices.

“I am very drunk.”

“Harry, you don’t have to keep trying to include me in things. I know… I can’t be your friend.”

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

Draco averts his eyes, and seems to realize he’s wet, before pushing his way into Harry’s foyer and drying himself off with his wand. Harry wishes he wouldn’t, because the sight of him truly affected by the rain is something to behold, something he now realizes he’s been deprived of for so long.

“You know why,” he continues, “You know why, and yet you keep inviting me to things because my friends are your friends and vice versa, but I don’t need to be included in everything, not when you know how much it hurts me.”

“Draco, what the fuck are you on about?”

“What am I supposed to do? Just act normal? I’ve been in love with you for three fucking years, and everybody knows it, and I know you know it, and I’m sick of being embarrassed–”

“Draco,” Harry stops him, a hand pressed to his firm chest. The gesture isn’t needed, but Harry wants to touch him so bad, feel the linen of Draco’s shirt under his fingertips now that he knows that Draco wants it, “You’re stupid.”

If he wasn’t drunk, he would have been much more eloquent, but this is the best he’s got, and as long as Draco stops talking long enough to listen, maybe he can make it through this conversation.

“I only threw this party for you.”

Draco takes two steps back, knocks his hip against a fern, then takes a step forward.

“You threw…” Draco looks around the room, now devoid of all its decorations, and Harry hopes he can imagine them in his mind. Imagine a room full of people they love, drinking something he likes, eating his favourite candy, listening to his favourite music, and understand that Harry has always been trying to show, unsure if he was allowed to tell, “What are you saying?”

“I Gatsby’d it,” Harry replies, because Luna said that’s what he was doing, and the phrase has been stuck in his head all night.

“You Gatsby’d it,” Draco deadpans.

“I threw an entire party and filled it with things I know you like, just because I wanted you to show up,” Harry admits, “I had rum rollovers and Frou Frou and I dressed up as a pirate because I know you love men in frilly shirts, because I wanted you to walk in and notice.”

It’s definitely odd saying it out loud, but Draco just showed up at his doorstep and professed his love for him, so Harry feels free to say his truth.

“And I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I’m seven hours late.”

“Very fashionable.”

“Sorry about that,” Draco scratches that spot behind his ear, where he’s always thought about getting a tattoo. Harry remembers how it tastes, “So…”

“I love you too, by the way,” Harry blurts, “You said you were in love with me and I called you stupid and–”

Draco reaches for him, and Harry is both expecting it and caught off guard when they kiss– quick and painless and just as sweet as he remembers.

“You threw a party for me,” Draco murmurs.

“Everything I do is for you,” Harry replies, and Draco kisses him again, and again, until he finally manages to pull away from his lips, “I mean, not brushing my teeth or whatever. Like, the pub nights and the dinner parties. Those were all for you.”

“For me.”

“For you.”

“Why didn’t you just–” Draco starts, and Harry knows why he didn’t just, but he’s still too muddled to explain all that.

“I have a lot of problems,” he says instead.

Draco laughs, and Harry’s so glad that it’s finally because of him again, and not some brunette at the pub, “Yes, you do.”

They move on to the sofa, trading explanations through the night as Harry’s buzz finally wears off, and Draco admits that he got pretty smashed in his kitchen, unable to bear the idea of refusing the invite. The sun peaks through the curtains in the early hours of the morning, and they begin to doze, twisted around one another. They haven’t spoken for a while, simply rested in the warmth of long-awaited understanding.

But, as Harry finally lets sleep overcome him, he hears a snort and one final whisper.

“You Gatsby’d it…”

if you liked this, feel free to give it some love over on ao3!

[englishstrawbie]

#kacytober: OCT28 - paint

Follows on from OCT10 - mornings

It takes several weeks for Lucy’s wounds to start to heal. Her ribs are still sore and the cuts to her face leave a faint scar, but she is feeling well enough to go back to work. Jane will only let her do admin work for at least the next month. She gets it, even though she hates being stuck at her desk. It is the closest they have come to losing one of their team and it has rattled them all.

Kai is home now, released from the hospital a few days ago, and recovering well. He’s positive and cheerful, like always, despite the pain and discomfort he is in. Lucy spent a couple of hours with him once he was up for visitors, their conversation triggering her memories of that day and pushing her to work through the trauma thanks to the department-mandated counsellor that Jane insists she meets twice a week at the moment.

By the time the weekend rolls around, Lucy is exhausted and she falls into bed early on Friday night. She only stirs when she feels Kate slide into bed next to her, her arm instinctively reaching out around her waist, holding on to her like she has every night since that awful day.

The engagement ring still sits in her bottom drawer. Tomorrow, Lucy thinks, as she is on the verge of falling back to sleep. She doesn’t want to wait any longer. She knows she wants it to be romantic, to make a fool of herself for love like Kate did for her when she sang to her in front of all of their friends. Maybe, if she wakes early enough, she will follow her to the beach and surprise her after her morning surf. Or maybe she could do it when she gets home, the apartment filled with their favourite flowers and all the baked breakfast goods she can make.

Her plans go awry when she doesn’t wake up until just after ten o’clock. She can hear Kate pottering around the apartment, telling her that she is already back from the beach. So much for surprising her.

Lucy sits up and rolls her shoulders, then swings her legs out of bed and pads into the apartment, surprised to find it in disarray. All the furniture has been moved haphazardly, sheets covering the large flat-screen television and floor by the far end wall where Kate stands.

Rubbing her eyes, just to make sure she really is awake, Lucy frowns. “What’s going on?”

Kate spins around to face her. “I want you to have this,” she says simply, as if she is making sense.

“You want me to have this…?” Lucy questions.

“This wall,” Kate says, gesturing behind her.

Lucy shakes her head, confused. “Why?”

Kate sighs. “Because you’ve been living here for six months and it’s still my apartment.”

When Lucy arches her eyebrows in surprise at her words, she corrects herself.

“I mean, it’s our apartment, of course. But it’s still my stuff everywhere, my furniture, my pictures hanging from the walls.”

“So?”

“So… I want you to feel like this is your home too. I went out and got all these different samples from the hardware store. Not that you have to pick one that I chose, you can do whatever you want. Paint it whatever colour you want, hang whatever you want from the hooks.”

Kate’s voice raises by an octave, talking at double speed, like she does when she is wound up tight. Lucy knows why. She has been hovering ever since the incident, staying close and pandering to her every need. It is not like they don’t know how risky their jobs can be, but they have been confronted with the worst possible scenario and have been dancing around it ever since, refusing to acknowledge it outright. This, she knows, is Kate’s way of dealing with her fears.

Lucy crosses the apartment and takes her hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Kate, I do feel like this is my home.”

She sees Kate’s lips twitch into a small smile. “You do?”

Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, Lucy kisses her lightly. “I do.”

Those two words remind Lucy of her plan and they spark an idea.

“I’m gonna go put some clothes on and then you can show me the paint samples, okay?”

“Okay,” Kate says with a resolute nod.

Lucy retreats into the bedroom and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and an old Navy t-shirt, going into her bottom drawer and slipping the jewellery box into her pocket. When she goes back into the apartment, Kate has the sample paint swatches lined up on a bench, all pastel colours – greens and blues and yellows that match the rest of the decor.

“You know, before we get started, I’m really craving a green smoothie from the juice bar down the road. Would you mind popping out and getting me one? I’m pretty tired after working all week.”

She uses her most pitiful voice and it works. She can’t help but smile as Kate rushes out of the apartment, promising to be back as soon as possible. Once she is alone, Lucy chooses a soft blue paint and turns towards the wall that Kate has gifted to her, getting to work on her new plan.

Kate arrives home ten minutes later, a smoothie in each hand.

“They’d run out of the green smoothie,” she says, flustered as she enters the apartment. “So I got you the…”

She stops in her tracks when she sees Lucy’s handiwork on the wall. Lucy smiles and beckons her over. Placing the smoothies on the kitchen counter, Kate walks over to her in a daze.

“What…?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted with the wall,” Lucy reminds her.

Behind her, written in thick blue paint, are the words ‘Kate Whistler, will you marry me?’.

Kate doesn’t speak, too dumbstruck. Lucy’s body isn’t quite ready for her to get down on one knee so she simply pulls the box from her pocket and opens it, holding it out between them and looking up at Kate.

“Will you?” she asks softly.

She has been so confident that Kate will say yes, but as soon as the words are out she suddenly feels nervous as she waits for her reply. Thank God it comes quickly, a wide smile spreading across Kate’s face as she closes the gap between them.

“Yes, Lucy! Yes, I will marry you.”

And just as quickly, her hands are cupping Lucy’s face, guiding their lips together in a deep kiss. Desperate to put the ring on Kate’s finger, she wriggles out of the embrace, laughing as she takes the ring out of its box and slides it carefully onto Kate’s ring finger.

“It’s beautiful,” Kate says, admiring the delicate carving in the white gold band and the small diamonds that adorn it.

“So are you,” Lucy gushes. “I love you, Kate.”

Kate leans down and kisses her again, resting her forehead against Lucy’s.

“I love you too.”

[dearcraziness]

Chapter 29.

Early cool morning. The sun on the street had just risen from the horizon, so it wasn't visible yet. The blue sky was at times with a lilac tinge, and the weather became even more amazing.

Bendy woke up and immediately looked out the window, smiling. He ran to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone. Putting the dish in the oven, the imp decided to clean up the kitchen. But then he noticed a very large newspaper lying on the table.

"Hmm, strange... Boris usually doesn't leave his newspapers here..." he thought. "Well, alright, then I'll read a few articles."

As Bendy started reading, Boris immediately entered the kitchen, with a slightly dissatisfied expression on his face. He looked around the kitchen, but he didn't notice Bendy because of the newspaper.

"And where is this little pest?.." he muttered and left the kitchen.

Bendy wondered who Boris was looking for and, putting down the newspaper, he also left the kitchen. Bendy saw Boris near his room, and, apparently, something had to be repaired again.

"Hello, Boris! " Bendy exclaimed. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, hi, Bendy," Boris replied, with discontent. "May I ask where you've been all this time?"

"In the kitchen..." Bendy said.

"Hmm, I was there just now, but I didn't see you... Okay, it's not that important. But you at least could tell me everything honestly, and I wouldn't have to do so much work..."

"What exactly should I tell you about?" Bendy wondered.

"That you accidentally hooked this mechanism," the mechanic showed the device next to the pipe. "Now it's out of system, and I have to reinstall it."

"Oh, I didn't do that... But I'll definitely help you with the installation of this mechanism! Let..."

"Bendy, don't deny what you've been doing," Boris interrupted him. "Everything was in its place, and it couldn't have happened accidentally."

"But it really wasn't me," Bendy replied. "Maybe, after all, it turned out by itself somehow?.."

"No, it can't be that way... Well, I'll fix it..." he began to unscrew the mechanism from the wall.

"... May I help?" Bendy asked.

"Thank you, you've already "helped" enough." Boris replied, continuing his work.

Bendy looked at him a little upset and wanted to say something, but headed back to the kitchen. Breakfast wasn't ready yet, so Bendy decided to see what the others were doing there. He attended a small concert by Frans, just like Globe. Then he went to Lara's room. Entering her, he exclaimed, "Hello, Laurie! What are you doing?"

"Hi, Bendy," the girl replied. "I draw my old drawings in different styles."

"Oh, great! Do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course, I still have so many drawings that can be redrawn..."

"Great, then I'll be right there! I'll bring pencils and paints from my room."

Bendy went to his room and took everything he needed. The young man returned to Lara's room, and they began to draw. Soon Alice joined them, and they all came up with a lot of different drawing styles. Almost everything was ready.

"Wow, how beautifully everything turned out..." said Lara.

"Yes, it's so exciting to draw in different styles!.." Alice said. "Such a pity that Boris can't join."

"Well, he probably has a lot of other important things to do..." Lara suggested.

"Yes, he's busy right now," Bendy confirmed. "I'll go help him."

Bendy went to Boris's room. More precisely, he stopped near his room.

"Boris, can I help you after all? Otherwise, you've been installing the mechanism for quite a long time."

"Okay, I really could use some help. Just be cautious."

"Alright, I'll do everything carefully."

And very soon they finished installing the mechanism.

"That's it now," Boris said. "But why did it move in the first place..."

Boris carefully examined the mesanism... And realized what was the matter!

"Oh, it looks like I forgot to screw the mechanism tight, that's why it got loose. I'm sorry, Bendy, I didn't believe you right away... After all, friends should always be trusted, and not check their every word..."

"Nevermind, the main thing is that everything works now." Bendy replied.

"Yes, it's great." Boris said, looking a little sadly to the side.

"Boris, I completely understand why you thought that. Sometimes I really don't take things as carefully as I should. But I treat my friends' things neatly, so don't worry."

"I'm not worried... It's just probably not very pleasant when your friends don't fully trust you... And I check the words of others quite often."

"Well, yes, but is that a bad thing? You trust us anyway. Just a little different. We always tell each other the truth, and that's the main thing!"

"Hmm, you're right." Boris smiled.

Bendy smiled too.

"And even if sometimes you will check the words of others, you will still always be a very good friend! I am glad we are friends. And nothing will change that!"

"I'm also glad that we all met." Boris replied.

They smiled and patted each other on the shoulder. And then they went to the others to draw pictures in different styles...

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Wonderland: Part Four

A/N: And now back to my regularly scheduled writing and posting schedule ;) Trigger warning for animal attacks and animal/creature death. But uh hope everyone enjoys? I always feel weird saying enjoy with these parts because this whole fic is hella angsty but hey, maybe people do enjoy that. 

Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Nesta’s eyes flutter open to soft morning light filtering in through the windows. It streaks across the blankets of the bed, against the floor and walls, painting everything in golden hues. Much like the previous night, Cassian has curled himself around her, arm a secure weight across her hips and a leg hooked between her own. His face is half buried against her hair, every exhale skittering across her skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Nesta tries to discreetly shift away from that, but it seems those mating instincts are awake even if Cassian isn’t, the male softly growling and pulling her more securely against him.

At least the night had been all quiet, no nightmares returning to their usual haunts. For either of them. As much as Nesta hates to admit it, last night was probably the best sleep she’s ever had, and not just in the last two years. For once there was no restlessness, no broken and scarred images flashing behind her eyes, no floating in that in between space that always leaves her on edge.

She isn’t sure what to make of that, how she feels about it.

Nesta supposes she can simply add it to the long list of things she’s still so unsure about. Her mind keeps flittering back to Azriel’s words, to how Cassian had been after she’d rejected the bond. Even more so, she can’t stop thinking about Cassian’s words to her, how he would have taken her away, would have helped her if she’d only asked. She knows it never would have been that simple, but it doesn’t stop the what-if’s from tumbling around in her brain. Where would they be? What could they be?

Of course, it doesn’t matter now. It’s just about where they go from here, what next steps may be awaiting for them to take. It certainly feels as though they’re at a cross road, but is there a right one? Sunshine and green grass has never been a path Nesta envisioned for herself, never a possibility. She can’t help but wonder if maybe she and Cassian both are a little too broken, too full of jagged pieces weathered down by time, to truly be fixed. If they’ll always be cracked and imperfect no matter what. Perhaps darkness and a bramble filled path is their only option.

With a soft sigh, Nesta brings her hands up, pressing them against her eyes in frustration. It’s a move she instantly regrets, the cold air from the cabin rushing in and licking across her skin. Nesta shivers, hiking the blankets back up to her chin and burrowing deeper into them, desperate to chase their warmth. A wing curls up and around her, cocooning her and the warmth in, and Nesta freezes. She rolls over carefully to find Cassian fully awake and watching her. She isn’t sure if it’s the sleep or something else that’s helped, but his eyes are alert and intense, almost as intense as before. They’re certainly as unnerving as before, and it has Nesta clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Aren’t you cold?” Nesta asks, noting the fact that despite sleeping shirtless and having half his chest out of the blankets, Cassian seems completely unbothered.

“When you grow up in the snow,” Cassian explains quietly. “You get used to it.”

The comment has Nesta frowning. “I thought the cabin you, Rhysand, and Azriel grew up in was quite nice. It didn’t keep you warm?”

“Rhys’ cabin,” Cassian corrects her. “I spent my first few years after I got tossed into Windhaven sleeping in an old, torn tent on the outskirts of camp. It kept out the worst of the wind, but there wasn’t a lot to be done about the cold seeping up from the ground.”

The explanation has Nesta’s chest aching, the image of a young Cassian shivering in the cold flashing in her mind. They’re so similar and yet so different.

“Our cabin, if you could even call it that, wasn’t much better,” Nesta offers, toying with the fraying hem of the blanket. “Elain, Feyre, and I didn’t just share a bed because of the lack of space, the body heat helped as well. We used to fight over who got to sleep in the middle since it was the warmest. But there were still days, in the dead of winter especially, where we’d wake and be able to see our breath, where our hands would start to turn purple.”

“I know. Feyre told us what it was like when she first came to Velaris.”

Nesta scoffs at that, pulling away from him and sitting up in the bed. “Of course she did. Let me guess, she told you how horrid her sisters were too, right? No one ever wants to hear my side. It’s always Feyre’s side they’re on.”

Cassian is silent for a moment, and when Nesta looks back toward him, that heavy intensity is still swimming in his eyes. “I would have been on your side. If you’d have let me.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” Nesta whispers, curling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “You were always going to be most loyal to Rhysand.”

“You mean the person who exiled me?” Cassian shoots back, incredulity underlying his tone.

“I heard you attacked his family.”

“Are you asking for my side?”

A heartbeat passes. Then two.

“Yes.”

“I never would have hurt Nyx. Or Feyre. It’s just…” Cassian sighs softly, sitting up as well. “It was like every part of me was always screaming at me to get to you, I had to get to you, that instinct practically clawing at me, pulling me apart from the inside out. I tried to fight it, but it would get inside my head. I… I made a mistake that day. I thought it was a trick. I thought I was being taunted by the future I would no longer have.”

Cassian’s explanation is like a bucket of cold water over Nesta’s head, stealing her breath, stealing any sort of coherent thoughts. His words echo and ring in her ears, the pain laced through them like a knife straight through her chest. Her gut twists, guilt’s cold hands digging into her insides until Nesta has to look away from Cassian’s gaze.

“I didn’t—” Nesta pauses, swallowing hard. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know this was what happened. No one ever told me.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

Nesta’s gaze snaps back to Cassian, but the words stick to the back of her throat. What can she say? Would it have made a difference if someone had told her the consequences that awaited? She thinks back to the person she was back then, so utterly broken and weighed down by it all, so cold and unfeeling and desperate for any type of reprieve. Would that female still have rejected the bond if she knew?

She isn’t sure if it’s something he sees on her face or just the silence that stretches between them, but Cassian merely nods. He stands up and skulks out of the bedroom without another word, not even bothering to look back at her. Nesta closes her eyes, letting out a shaky sigh, before clambering off the bed herself. She quickly washes and changes into one of her dresses, taking the time to braid and pin her hair.

When Nesta steps out of the bedroom, she expects to be stuck spending another day in the cabin alone. What she doesn’t expect is to find Cassian in the kitchen, cooking. In fact, she has to blink a few times to ensure what she’s seeing is actually real, but he’s stood by the cabin’s small stovetop, still clad in only the pants he slept in, stirring a pot. He doesn’t turn when Nesta steps into the room, so she goes over to the table, sliding into one of the seats.

“Where did you go?” Cassian asks, walking over to her and setting down a bowl of porridge. “You said yesterday that you needed to get away from Velaris. Where did you end up going?”

Nesta picks up the spoon, twiddling it between her fingers. “A seaside town on the continent, near the port. I have an apartment there, and a job at the local bookstore. I help balance their books. I was always good at math.”

Cassian hums quietly in understanding, heading back to prepare a bowl of porridge of his own. Nesta finds herself watching him. Despite the wildness that has taken over Cassian’s features through the year of isolation, the morning light cascading in through the window still paints him in soft lines and shadows. When Cassian catches her staring, Nesta ducks her head, instead focusing on the breakfast in front of her, the cinnamon of the porridge sweet against her tongue. They eat in silence for a while, the only sounds in the cabin the scrape of their spoons against their respective bowls.

“And are you happy? Where you are now?” Cassian breaks the quiet, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nesta considers how to answer, how to accurately convey all the emotions she’s felt since moving to the continent, before settling on, “I’m happier.”

Cassian turns away from her, back toward the sink, but Nesta swears she can feel pain and regret that isn’t her own lance through her chest. It almost takes her breath away, but just as soon as it flares, that feeling is vanishing.

“There’s a storm coming in from the mountains,” Cassian says, pushing away from the kitchen sink and back toward the bedroom.

“It looks perfectly sunny outside,” Nesta calls after him, her brows pinching as she looks out the window, a stretch of bright blue sky above the snow and trees.

“It will most likely hit us later this evening,” Cassian explains, stepping back into the front room fully dressed. “I’ll make sure to check the nearby traps and gather enough wood for us to weather through it.”

“Okay,” Nesta agrees halfheartedly, unable to swallow down the disappointment as she watches Cassian pull on his boots. Another day alone in this cabin.

As if he can sense her thoughts, Cassian pauses where he was lacing up his boots and glances back toward her, something like shame pinching across his face. He holds her gaze for just a moment, but then he snaps back to the task at hand, securing his boots and yanking open the front door.

Left to her own devices again, Nesta gets up from the table, making quick work to wash the dishes from breakfast. She heads to her old bedroom, pulling the quilt off the bed and grabbing her unfinished book from the bedside table. She gets comfortable on the sofa, wrapping the blanket around her and balancing the book on her raised knees. She opens up to her last page, but her eyes keep glancing out the window, waiting to catch a glimpse of large, dark wings in the skies above, or even to see the storm Cassian mentioned. There’s no sign of either.

Nesta doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but something about the quiet, the warmth curled up in the blanket, the story she’s reading, it all lulls her until she’s shifting to get more comfortable and letting her eyes fall shut. She’s not sure how much time has passed when she’s finally tugged away from sleep’s gentle embrace, but the room seems somewhat darker, clouds having rolled in to cast the skies overhead in a dull gray.

Slowly, Nesta blinks her eyes open properly and comes face to face with a pair of almost glowing, golden ones. Nesta rears back with a startled shout, pressing back against the cushions of the sofa, but the large wolf in front of her doesn’t move. Its ears twitch slightly at her reaction, and it tilts its head as it continues to stare at her. Nesta’s gaze darts around the room, trying to figure out how the wolf even got inside, trying to find some sort of weapon nearby that she can grab and defend herself with. She half wonders if Cassian is close to the cabin, if she shouts his name, he’ll come barreling inside.

The wolf takes a step closer, and Nesta’s whole body tenses. It dips its head toward Nesta’s hand, and she swears she’s not breathing, watching with wide, weary eyes as the wolf presses its nose against her fingers. She waits for it to bite, for the pain of teeth sinking into skin to shoot up her arm, but it never comes.

Instead, the wolf continues to move its head until Nesta’s hand is resting between its ears. There’s something like expectancy shining in the gold of its eyes, and cautiously, Nesta starts to card her fingers through the fur, finding it surprisingly soft. The wolf lets out a contented huff, pressing its face closer to Nesta as she continues to pet it.

“Vidar…?” Nesta questions carefully.

The wolf looks up at her at the name, ears seeming to twitch in recognition. Nesta can’t help it. She laughs. She laughs until her chest is practically heaving with it, an ache threatening to overtake her lungs. Here she is, sitting in a cabin in the middle of nowhere Illyria, petting a wolf. A wolf that, until a few minutes ago, she didn’t even think was real. Maybe the isolation is starting to get to her too.

Vidar lets out another sound somewhere between a huff and a snort and steps away from Nesta, stalking toward the front door of the cabin. He turns his head to look back at Nesta for just a moment then faces the door again, thumping his large paws against the floor.

“Walk?” Nesta asks aloud. “Do wolves go for walks?”

Vidar turns to stare at her again, tilting his head slightly. It feels like answer enough. Nesta lets out a soft sigh, but she stands up from the sofa, depositing the blanket and her book. Perhaps a walk will do her some good too, give her a chance to breathe some fresh air and to untangle the knot of thoughts in her mind before she’s stuck inside during the storm.

Nesta slips on her boots and a heavy cloak before opening up the front door, Vidar bounding out and into the snow. The start of the storm seems to have already arrived, small flakes of snow falling slowly in swirls of white. They land like soft kisses against Nesta’s hair and eyelashes, and already her nose feels pink and snow bitten.

Nesta lets Vidar lead the way, the wolf clearly familiar with the terrain. She treks after him through the snow and between the trees that surround the cabin. All of the evergreens are blanketed in white, the snow weighing down the branches. With the snow falling softly all around them, there’s a quiet peacefulness to the landscape, and as Vidar comes to a stop, Nesta can’t help but close her eyes, tilting her head back toward the sky and taking a deep breath.

A low growl has Nesta’s eyes snapping back open again. Her attention goes to Vidar, the wolf now crouched down, hackles raised. His ears are pressed flat against his head, teeth bared, but his attention isn’t toward Nesta, but further into the woods. Nesta tries to squint between the trees, but the snow has started to pick up, and she can’t see anything. A shiver rakes its way up Nesta’s spine, her heart stuttering up a few paces in her chest. Suddenly, the quiet has take on a sense of eeriness rather than peacefulness.

Nesta takes a few cautious steps backwards, eyes darting back toward the cabin they came from, but then there’s a second growl, a growl that’s lower, more ominous. Nesta watches in horror as a creature twice the size of Vidar slinks out from between the trees, fur as dark as the shadows. Two pairs of horns curl upward from behind its ears, red eyes boring straight into Nesta. It snaps its jaw, fangs on full display, and Nesta feels icy cold terror lance through her.

She continues her careful steps back and away from the creature. One step. Two. Three. The creature takes a step forward, and Nesta freezes. Before she can even blink, Vidar jumps into the action, charging at the creature, and Nesta doesn’t need to be told twice. She turns and sprints back toward the cabin, desperately trying to drag her feet through the thickening snow.

A pained whimper sounds from behind Nesta, and when she turns to look over her shoulder, Vidar is crumpled beneath a tree, the bark splintered like he’d been thrown against it. Her heart gives a painful squeeze at the sight, a choked sound tearing past her lips, but she knows she doesn’t have time to worry about him. She continues her trudge through the snow, glancing behind her every few seconds to keep her eyes on the creature. It stalks toward her slowly, like it’s some sort of game, like it’s taunting her before it eats her. It takes everything in her to fight back the fear threatening to paralyze her, to keep her feet pushing forward.

Nesta glances back again, but suddenly, the creature is gone. Her feet stutter to a stop, and her eyes scan the tree line, squinting for a flash of black fur. Could it really have left? Just like that? She turns back around to continue toward the cabin, but the creature is right in front of her now. It must have circled around without her realizing, large, clawed paws silent in the snow. It rears back on its haunches before it pounces, and Nesta lets out a scream, arms coming up to shield her face instinctively.

She can feel the ground shake and shudder beneath her feet, red flooding her vision, but there’s no pain. In fact, she doesn’t feel anything except the cold bite of the snow and the fear still pulsing through her veins. Slowly, Nesta lowers her arms only to find Cassian in front of her, wings spread wide and sword poised in his hands, siphons casting the snow around them a ruby red as they flare.

Nesta can do nothing but watch as Cassian’s sword arcs through the air, slashing toward the creature without abandon. Cassian had always been so refined and elegant in his fighting, all those years training carving and molding him until he moved like a dancer across battlefields. But not now. Nesta isn’t sure if it’s the time without practice or the madness, but there’s a wildness in the way he moves and fights now too.

Unfortunately for Cassian, whatever the creature is, it’s built for and used to the snow, body moving lithely as it dodges the swings of Cassian’s sword. It lets out another growl and charges toward him, but Cassian stands his ground, using the creature pouncing to his benefit and burying his sword in the creature’s side.

The creature has barely hit the ground before Cassian is in front of Nesta, shaking hands frantically sliding up and down her arms, over her sides, cradling her face. His eyes are wide as he takes her in, and Nesta is sure that the way his chest heaves isn’t just from fighting off that creature. She can practically taste his fear on the back of her tongue where it mingles with her own.

“I’m okay,” Nesta assures him quietly, reaching her hands up to grip Cassian’s. “I’m fine. I promise.”

She feels more than she hears Cassian’s sigh of relief, his breath skating across the skin of her cheeks. His hands fall back down to his sides, and Cassian drops to his knees, slumping down against the snow. Nesta crouches down as well, pushing the matted hair off his face with gentle fingers and tilting his face back up to meet hers. But any words die in her throat when she takes in the glazed look that’s overtaken Cassian’s eyes, his focus clearly going in and out.

Nesta frowns down at him, and it’s then that she notices the red stain growing in the snow around them. She rears back enough that she can fully take Cassian in, finally noting the four long gashes on his chest from where the creature must have sunk its claws in. They look deep, and they definitely look bad, Cassian swaying unsteadily where he’s knelt in the snow.

“Oh, gods.”

—

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[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[studiojeon]

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | -   Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee). 

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed. 

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish.  “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes. 

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better. 

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you. 

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face. 

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. 

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips. 

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way. 

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were. 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion. 

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on? 

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week. 

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker. 

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way." 

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while. 

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either. 

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out. 

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside. 

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you. 

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of  his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know". 

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right. 

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?" 

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though. 

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t. 

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

[folkloreguk]

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

~

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

~

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

[bowdownbucky]

𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !

part 2 <3

summary: you have an encounter with your best friend’s brother bucky!

pairing: innocent! reader x college! bucky

warnings: cursing, asshole! steve rogers, kissing, drug use, oral (female receiving) fingering.

your heart began to beat heavily, bucky didn’t care that his sister was outside of the door but you started to feel guilty. this was so wrong of you and you didn’t even want to look at yourself. “you better answer her sweethear, she’s not gonna leave.” bucky taunts you, he hand trails your stomach, groping your breasts hard. “uh-im almost finished, i h-had to ohhh.” you slap you hand over your mouth, bucky smirks as he pinches you nipple again.

“what?” rebecca moved closer to the door. “are you okay? i’m coming in.” your eyes widens, you pushed bucky away and slowly cracked the door. “i’m f-fine, the um…pizza! the pizza went down the wrong hatch.” you lie. rebecca’s face screws up. “ew i did not need to know that y/n” you watch as she walks into her room. you close the door, leaning your head back onto the wooden frame.

you closed your eyes and hoped that this was all a dream, that you didn’t actually kiss your best friends brother. you slowly open your eyes only to meet a pair of blue eyes, bucky laughs at you. “went down the wrong hatch? seriously?” you cross your arms in front of your chest. “well what was i supposed to say, sorry can’t talk now i’m making out with your brother. she’s kill me!” you exclaim, you ran your hands down your face in an irrational manner. this was too much for you and bucky didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“would you chill out? here take a hit, it will make you feel better.” bucky offers the small bud once more, you smack it out of his hand. “do you always solve your problems with weed!” you hiss. his eyes were low, he watched as the joint flew onto the ground. you hitch your breath realizing what you did, you see his tongue rub his lower lip. you almost melt at the sight.

“your gonna regret the doll.” he seethes into your ear. he pushes you against the door, you let out a yelp but he covers your mouth. “i know a way you can make it up to me, and you are gonna make it up to me. you know why baby?” you shake your head. “because you don’t want to get on my bad side. i would hate to ruin that innocence of yours.” he whisperers, he hands managed to find their way to you ass, giving it a light squeeze before letting you go.

you move from the door and he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you could barely comprehend what happened let along what he meant by his bad side. you grabbed the nail polish remover and walk back to rebecca room. “finally! you took forever.” you mumble a small sorry and sat on her bed, she lends you her hand and you get to work on her nails, she chose a peach color and wanted you to add a french tip, such a classic.

as you continue painting her nails she squeals making you mess up the curved line. “becca! your nails!” you groan. “i don’t care! why didn’t you tell me?” you tilt your head confusingly. “you and steve hooked up and you didn’t tel me?!” you eyes go wide. “what! no! where did you get that from?” you ask her. she huffs. “no, no, no, no don’t try to act all innocent! you and chris did it and there is evidence on your neck. i rest my case.” you rush off the bed and check your neck, you internally face palm seeing dark purple marks all over your neck.

“i had no idea steve was like that. i guess i have to stop making fun of him now.” she chuckles. “just taking me home my ass! so how was it? was he big? why arent you giving me details.” rebecca whines, kicking her feet in her bed. you ignored her and attempted to kneed out the hickies. as you run the marks you notice bucky staring at you from his room door, you could practically feel his smirk as you watched his reflection go back to his room. you heart raced as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“it’s no big deal i just burnt myself with a straightener.” you curse to yourself knowing she wouldn’t fall for that. “fine don’t tell me! i’m going to sleep, all this secrecy has made me tired.” rebecca yawns, you hoped she wouldn’t ask you about the hickey again because lying was never your forte. you lie in the large bed, clouded in your own thoughts.

did he like you? was he just messing with you? you had so many assumptions of why he kissed you, what bothered you the most was that you had steve. steve was a jock and you were an outcast, you didn’t know how it would work. even though you and steve hadn’t officially said you were together, you still respected him and wanted to be faithful.

the next morning at school, you kept your head down and didn’t talk to anyone for the most part. no one really seems to notice because you were kind of a nobody. you sat in your forensics class, jotting down notes here and there. you stop writing when you feel a hand creep up your thigh. you turn your head toward steve, he kept a straight face and didn’t acknowledge how unamused you were.

“what are you doing?” you whisper. steve’s hand tries to travel up your skirt but you close your legs firmly. “steve!” he turns to you. “we’re in the middle of class.” you point out. “i’m sorry you know i can’t resist you baby. let me make it up to you but taking you out after homecoming.” you hault yourself as you almost roll your eyes at him. steve could be pushy sometimes especially when it came to losing your virginity to him. you hated that rebecca told him that, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“oh really.” you say pretending to be intrigued. “the guys and i bought hotel rooms for tonight and we get to bring a special girl along. and you know since your my favorite girl, i thought we could go together and have fun. go swimming, watch movies, kiss, cuddle, the whole nine and maybe some other stuff if you want.” you remove his hand from your thigh and continue writing notes. “i told you steve i’m not ready for that stuff yet.”

steve huffs, returning back to the lesson. your virginity wasn’t something that you kept sacred but you wanted you first time to be meaningful and steve hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet so your answer would always be no if he asked. when school ended you took the bus home, you quickly packed a bag full of makeup, hair supplies and your clothes for homecoming. you checked the time, almost cursing yourself seeing how you were going to be late to rebecca’s house.

you ran as fast as you could to the barnes’ house, you could practically feel the lecture rebecca was going to give you. luckily, you live a few blocks down from the barnes so it wouldn’t be too long of a walk/run. when you arrived at the barnes’ you quickly rang the doorbell. the door opens’ revealing a shirtless bucky who looked like he just got out of the shower. “can i help you?” he smirks looking down on you.

“becca t-told m-me to come, for homecoming.” you gulped attempting to maintain eye contact. his couldn’t help but peek at his glistened abs, you really hoped he didn’t catch on to you checking him out. before he could let out a snarky comment rebecca came gritting down the stairs with curlers in her hair. “there you are! y/n your late and we only have three hours to get ready.” you pushed pass bucky and ran up the stairs.

bucky watched at how nervous you were, it was like the fuel he ran on. rebecca closed her door and pushes you onto her vanity chair. “please tell me i have creative freedom tonight!” rebecca pleads with her big blue eyes staring at you. you sigh and nod. she kisses your forehead before beginning your makeup.

after a few hours of prodding, poking, blending, and brushing, rebecca finally finished your makeup and hair. normally you wouldn’t wear makeup because you didn’t know how to do it very well but when you did have it on you truly looked like a princess. “now carefully get into your dress y/n, i swear to god if you mess up an eyelash i will kill you.” she threatens you with her high pitched voice. you removed your jeans and shirt revealing your body, you quickly unzipped the dress as you start to compare your body to rebecca’s. becca was tall and slim while you were a little curvy. you had a small tummy with stretchmarks and she had a flat tummy with a slender waist. your best friend was beautiful and you didn’t want to see mom jealous, so you put up a front and delt with it.

you and rebecca were finally dressed, rebecca looked stunning in her white and pink dress. with the help of rebecca and mrs.barnes, you had pick a pale green dress, the curve of the dress fit you like a glove. the creases on the dress made you look more mature and sexier. you were never use to being sexy so the look on your face made rebecca freak out. “you totally hate it, i knew we should’ve gone with the black dress.” you shake your head. “n-no! it looks…great. thank you becks.” the door opens, your heart quickens when you meet a pair of bright eyes. you noticed bucky had put on a shirt, a part of you were bummed out. “would it kill you to knock! we’re girls who need privacy!” rebecca yells. bucky didn’t give his sister the time of day, his eyes were fixated on you. you felt self conscious as he stared at you long and hard. “mom and dad are going to a banquet dinner in manhattan. they won’t be back until tomorrow.” he tells rebecca. she crossed her arms in confusion. “what? no! i was supposed to have the car tonight. how the hell are we supposed to get to hoco?” rebecca flings her arms up dramatically.

bucky chuckles at his sister’s agony. “wait!” you spoke up as bucky was about to walk away. “c-can y-ou drive us?” you ask quietly. rebecca pulled your arm. “are you crazy? do you know what people say if we shows up to homecoming in a pickup truck?” rebecca vocalized. you couldn’t care less what people had to say, you just wanted and excuse to be see bucky. “becca this is important to you and even you said yourself we had to be there under any circumstances.”

rebecca whines. “fine but you’re dropping us off a block away. i need to retouch my hair, you’ve made me stress away the curls.” you watched as she pushes past bucky, leaving the two of you. you stare at him for a second then turn around, attempting to act uninterested. “you know you should skip this whole homecoming thing altogether.” bucky told you. “what! no, this is important to becca and i promised her i’d be there.” you felt his presence behind you, your back was pressed to his front. “come on doll, you never seemed like the type to be into this stuff anyway. i have a few places we could go instead. wouldn’t that be way more fun.” he was baiting you and hell, you were falling for it very hard. he pushed your hair to the side, laying a kiss on your shoulder. his hand cupped your waist, pulling you as close as you could get.

his pressed more kisses up your neck, he liked testing you, he would make you beg for it if you gave him the chance. “c’mom dollface, don’t you wanna have fun with me?” you almost gave him a nod but refrained. “i should go help rebecca, see you in a few james.” you walk away smiling to yourself, you won this round of the game but best believe, bucky was going to win the next level.

you sat in between bucky and rebecca once more, y’all were currently picking up nathan and steve, your dates for the evening. “you look beautiful beck.” nathan smiles at his girlfriend. rebecca left you in the front with bucky so she could kiss her boyfriend more. steve walks to the front car door but bucky locks him out. “hey man, open the door.” steve groans. the two had seem to have history and now you were going to be in between it. “you know the rules big guy, no douches in the front seat.” bucky smirks. “then why are you sitting up here asshole?” steve sarcastically jokes. rebecca huffed from the back, leaning in the front of the seat. “hey dickheads, we don’t have time for this, have your cat fight after hoco. let’s go!” she demands. steve huffs, taking a seat next to the couple who had no problem with pda.

the ride to the school was pretty silent except for the rock music playing from the radio. you stared out of the window, you could tell bucky was mad because of how tight he was holding the steering wheel, his knuckles were almost white from the tight grip. suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. your eyes widened, you quickly look back to make sure no one saw what was happening. “what are you doing?” you whisper. he doesn’t say anything to you, his hand stays on your thigh and his eyes stay on the road but you could still see the smirk on his face. you tried to push his his hand away but he only moves it higher, almost touching your core. you didn’t want to play games anymore, you were never built for them, you open your legs up more, instead of doing what you wanted, he removed his hand. “alright guys, have a good night.” rebecca and nathan were the first ones to leave the truck. steve exits the truck and stands by youre window. “you coming?” you nod to him. “i’ll be out in a second.” steve walks away from the window, bucky bursts out into laughter.

you throw a punch at his arm but he doesn’t flinch at you. “thats not funny! you’re so mean.” you pout. “no what’s funny is you actually going out with steve.” you eye him in confusion. steve was a good guy, he could be a little pushy but that was just high school boys. “he’s nice and he asked me to go with him. i really don’t see what’s funny bucky.”

“you think just because the guy asked you to a dance, he suddenly changes his player ways. i think you forgot i use to be one of those guys. guys like that don’t fal for girls like you” he pauses. “all he wants is to get you under him and then he’s gonna hop to the next willing participant. god you’re so naive.” you crossed your arms. “you’re such a jerk james! at least he has the decency to not play with my feelings! you’re sister was right! you’re nothing but a-an…asshole.” you yell, leaving the truck with a slam of the door. you surprised yourself at how you went off on him, what did he know about steve. you knew being involved with bucky was bad but now you officially got your sign to stay away from him.

you walked into the school looking for steve. you pushed pass people grinding and dancing on each other. when you find steve you see he’s not alone, he was dancing with lila miller. the two were close together, you turn you back in disgust once you catch the two of them share a very tongue-filled kiss. you sit at the table in annoyance. of course bucky would be right about steve, you hated the fact that he was right.

it took an hour and a half for steve to find you sitting at the table, watching everyone have fun. “hey y/n sorry i was waiting for you but then the guys wanted to go take some shots in the bathroom.” steve leans over to kiss your lips but you dodge him. he looks at you with a confused face. “come on let’s go dance.” he offers you his hand, you play with the fork that was covered in strawberry cake. “i’m good, maybe you should go dance with lila instead.” you say. steve sits back down in the chair, he cleared his throat. “you saw that? i didn’t think you’d be mad, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”

you roll your eyes, pushing your plate away from you. you get up and begin walking to the double doors. as you enters the hallways you ignore steve calling your name. “y/n! can you just wait a minute!” he yells, pulling your arm back causing you to hault. “it was just a dance, i was being nice. you can’t just get mad at me like that, i asked you to be my girlfriend more than once and you said no.”

“because all you want from me is sex which is not ready to give to you. you don’t think i hear about you hooking up with girls in the gym closet. i don’t want to be the next dumb girl who becomes a play thing for you.” you snap on him. “oh come on, sex is just sex, why do you make such a bug deal over this?” he groans.

“it’s not just sex steve, i want it to be meaningful and memorable. i’m sorry if i don’t want to hook up in a sleezy hotel.” you yell, your faces were extremely close. “and you think barnes is gonna make it special? god you’re so naive.” you furrow your brows, what did bucky have to do with this situation. “he has nothing to do with this steve! you asked me to come to this dance with you only for you to dance with another girl and make me look dumb sitting there waiting for you. you can’t take your hotel invite and shove it up your ass.” you walk away from steve, this time he didn’t bother calling your name. after he heard you curse at him he knew you guys were not going to work this out

you sit on the stairs of the school, tears slowly slid from your eyes. you felt so stupid and used, you knew steve was right but it still hurt. you two weren’t together and if he wanted to take another girl to the hotel he could because you weren’t together. you cringe at how bucky was right about steve, you wanted to be angry at him but he did warn you.

you decide to head home, walking alone the lonesome streets of brooklynn. you were wet due to the copious amount of rain fall, you shiver once more and continue to walk to your house. you noticed a familiar truck driving beside you. bucky rolls down his window. “get in.” he tells you. you continue walking, deciding to ignore the older boy. “come on doll it’s raining. a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.” you couldn’t believe he as trying to flirt with you right now. you were hurt by his words and you were standing your ground, well that was until you heard a loud crack of lightning. you quickly rushed into the truck, slamming the door behind you.

before bucky could speak you began to talk. “just because i’m sitting in here with you, doesn’t mean i forgive you.” you seethed. bucky nods at you. “okay.” you angrily slap his arm. “okay? are you serious right now? how about a sorry for being a jerk!” you yell at him. bucky doesn’t acknowledge you, he starts looking for something in his truck. “god! boys are stupid! all you do is crave sex and hurt girls!” you rant, arms crossed over your chest. once you finished your rant you peek over at bucky holding two blunts. “wanna get high?”

you later found yourself in bucky’s room, high as a kite. you didn’t know what effect he had on you but you gave into his temptation. you sat on his bed, letting him shotgun smoke onto your mouth. “god you’re so hot.” bucky kisses your right shoulder. you softly hum in response, he trails his kisses to your exposed neck. you knew this was wrong on so many level but it felt so right.

“kiss me.” you whisper against him. the drugs in your system had your hormones at an all time high, you needed him to touch you. bucky locks his lips with yours, tongue roaming each other’s mouth in such a sensual way. bucky’s hand roams your body, cupping your breasts then your neck. you moan as he applies pressure to your throat.

he slides down you dress straps, with every kiss and touch you felt your dress being pulled lower and lower. bucky lifts you up on his lap, helping you out of the green champagne dress. you were fully exposed to him, his large hands grope your ass. he slaps the soft skin sending your lower half to grind against his tight jeans. bucky groans, pulling you closer to his bottom half. you felt the jean material rub against your clothes clit, your body shakes at the new feeling. “god you have no idea what you do to me princess.” he moans into your neck. his right hand unhooks your bra, you let the bra fall off of you. bucky eyes your bare chest, his blue eyes darken filling with lust.

he pulls your breast into his mouth, twirling his tongue around your swollen nipple. you grip onto his shirt, when moves your ass back and forth on his pants. “p-please bucky.” you whine, your body was aching for him to touch you. “what do you want doll?” you grab his, guiding him to your clothed cunt. you slip his hand under you, allowing his to grope your pussy. your mouth gapes open when bucky slowly rubs your clit back and forth.

when he notices you like the feeling of him touching you, it sends him into a deep lustful trance. he flips you over, bucky’ dog tags dangle over you. he kisses between your breast, trailing down to your stomach then he comes in contact with your laced white panties.

you can feel his breath on your wet core. he inhales you, moaning as if your cunt was the drug he was addicted to. he removed your panties from your body, bucky’s cock hardens once he caught a look at your pussy, your cunt was glistening from how wet it was, it took everything in bucky not to dive right in. “your so wet for me baby, and i haven’t even touched you yet. your pussy is begging for me to devour it.” bucky taunts. he slips one finger in your folds, your back arches at the finger passes your clit.

“bucky…please. i’ll do anything.” you beg. bucky perks an eyebrow at you. “anything?” you nod vigorously. “you’re going to cum for me three times. understand?” you nod your head. bucky licks a stride up your cunt. he moans at the taste of you. bucky wraps his pink lips around your clit, your legs spread wide as you beg for him to devour you. your back arches more, his hands pin your waist down to keep you steady, you screw your eyes shut as he sucks your clit into his mouth softly.

you moan out in pleasure, letting your hands grip his soft brown hair. you tug on his roots, attempting to push him closer to you. bucky pulls away earring a whine from you, he slips his middle finger into your core. at first his movements were slowly, he was preparing before adding his ring finger. you rode his fingers, moaning as he pumped you. you watch as he spits on your core, watching his saliva mix in with your cunt. you felt your stomach tighten, bucky felt your pussy clench around his fingers, imagining you around his cock.

he wastes no time, diving into your pussy. his tongue rapidly worked your clit, his fingers pumping you at a fast pace. your body was overwhelmed by all the stimulation. “bucky!” you scream at the top of your lungs. you were now grinding against his face, he didn’t tease you anymore, now he was on a mission to give you your orgasm. your legs shake, you cry out for bucky, your toes curled and your back arches to its full extent. bucky slows his movements as you come down from your high.

you collapse on his bed, you shiver as you feel bucky remove his hand from your pussy. you try to catch your breath, bucky hovers over you. “who knew my babydoll had that in you.”

[aftqrglow]

hi write more dad!bucky headcanons please and thank you

there u go

BELLA I LOVE THIS???? IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

pairing: dad!bucky x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about bucky with his children

warnings: babies; mentions of pregnancy; i think that’s it? otherwise, its pure fluff

a/n: i've never written headcanons before dhajdjjss i'm sorry if this sucks. i’ve talked about some of these on here before, but i added them here anyway. 

Let's get this out of the way: Bucky is the best dad ever.

I mean, you thought you always knew he was going to be a great father. He's a literal angel, after all. But when you had your daughter, Marigold, you realized just how amazing he really was.

Bucky took care of everything. From waking his little girl up for school every morning, getting her ready and even making her breakfast. 

He would often let her hook her arms around his metal arm and lift her into the air, the sound of her laughter filling the home you had built with the love of your life.

Bucky used to be insecure about his arm, once. About the scars that littered his shoulder like constellations in the sky, the vibranium shot through with gold. And while you had managed to rid him of most of these inhibitions, he still wore his gloves when he dropped Mari off at school.

That was, until the day Mari dragged him to meet her friends

"Look, guys," she said, with the biggest grin on her face. "My dad has a robot arm. How cool is that?"

Bucky damn near teared up at the look of pride on her face. Because how could his baby girl ever be ashamed of him? Her father was a hero who had saved more lives with that arm than he had taken, even if he forgot that sometimes.

When Mari decided she wanted to be a nail tech, he bought her a full kit just so she could practice.

Of course, she chose her dad to be her model.

Bucky walked around for weeks with his nails painted painted pink, waiting until the nail polish was chipped so bad he had no choice but to ask Mari to take it off and put on a fresh coat.

Seeing your husband with your daughter, you were completely unafraid to tell him that you were pregnant again.

You had never met a man capable of giving as much love to everyone around him as Bucky was, after all.

Bucky was overjoyed when you told him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up into the air and spinning you around, laughing like a child.

And when you found out that you were having twins—there's no way to put into words how delighted he was.

Just as he had when you were pregnant with Mari, Bucky took care of everything.

Only this time, he had Mari to help him.

The two of them repainted the nursery together. One of the walls was left the yellow-splattered orange it had been painted previously—for your Mari's name. One was painted a midnight blue for your daughter, and another a mint green for your son.

Brainstorming names was somewhat of a challenge. Bucky, of course, had two names in mind, but he was unsure of how you would react to them.

That was, until you brought it up yourself.

"I think we should name the boy Steve," you said one night, as he got ready for bed. "And our girl—Rebecca. After your sister."

Bucky froze.

"Are you sure, love? We—I know you had a lot of names in mind, but—"

"They were two of the most important people in your life, Bucky. Of course I'm sure."

The first time Bucky held Steve and Rebecca in his arms, he was shaking. Never in his life had he expected that he would have not one, but three beautiful children.

Three children with your hair and his eyes.

A family he would live and die for.

Mari was the most enchanting older sister. She read to her siblings every night, clambering into the crib and lying in between them, careful and gentle in a way most six-year-olds aren't.

As they got older, little Steve's fascination with his dad's metal arm grew.

He would draw little stars on the vibranium with white dry-erase markers, then rub them off with his thumb.

Steve never failed to boast about how his dad was a superhero to his friends at school—to the point where Bucky was bombarded with little boys asking to touch his metal arm every time he went to pick the kids up from school.

Becca, meanwhile, never let you do her hair. "I like it better when dad does it, Mommy."

And so Bucky did her hair every morning, sleeking those strands back into a silken braid, securing the ends with a black hair-tie that had threads of gold running through it.

"To match Dad's arm," Becca had grinned when she had asked you to buy it for her.

Eventually, Becca decided that if Bucky braided her hair, it was only fair that she braided his too.

It started one morning as Bucky was getting ready for school, when she told him that he was doing her hair all wrong and proceeded to climb up on the bed and put a tiny little braid in her dad's hair.

Of course, Bucky wore it around for the rest of the day.

The braid, coupled with his nails painted pink, thanks to Mari, subjected him to Sam's ceaseless teasing.

He didn't care, though. His heart swelled in his chest every time he glanced down at his nails or his fingers brushed the braid in his hair.

To the point where he grew his hair out again, just so Mari and Becca could braid it.

Of course, Steve decided that he wanted long hair too when he saw his dad skipping haircuts.

In fact, Steve even insisted you braid little sections of his hair like his sisters did for his dad.

It didn't matter to him what the boys at school said about his hair. If it was good enough for Dad, it was good enough for him.

Sam was bewitched by your children too. It was hard to say who was more excited to see the other on the weekends, when choruses of, "Uncle Sammy!" broke through the house every time the doorbell rang.

Spending Sundays at your house became sort of a tradition, as did spending holidays on Sam's boat.

Sarah's sons were enamored with your children. The five of them were inseparable, running around the docks, dodging Sam's neighbors who had now come to know the Barnes family all too well.

Bucky had never really imagined that he would ever know peace like this: with a family that he wasn't going to lose this time.

With friends he was sure wouldn't leave him behind.

He had never allowed himself to hope for it

But as he watched the sunset over the waters, sitting next to Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand, the sound of your laughter mixed with his kids' filling the air around him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had done something right with his shot at redemption after all.

Tags:

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if you would like to be added to my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 124: Joke

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd like that," Harry replied.

"Can we tell my friends, too?"

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

"I'll owl them tomorrow."

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

(Read more below the cut)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About?"

"You dating Harry Potter! This is an elaborate joke, even for you, how on earth did you manage to convince him to go along with it?"

He shook his head, "I'm completely serious. We ran into each other at work, started talking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that. Then we started fucking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that too. And it just makes sense," he said with a little shrug. "We spend all of our free time together and I can't even remember the last time I slept in my own flat-"

"Draco, be reasonable," Blaise said. "He can't possibly," he broke off as though he didn't want to finish that sentence.

"He can't possibly what?" Draco asked, putting years of practice making his voice sound cold as ice to good use.

"Darling, it's just that you're you," she said, "And he's Harry bloody Potter."

"The press is going to destroy you," Blaise added. "Imagine those headlines."

Pansy shook her head, "And not only that but don't you think that Potter is going to end up with someone that the wizarding world will approve of? A wife who'll give him three kids, a home, the whole nine yards."

"I think it's nice," Greg said. "He looks happy, you look happy. What more is there?"

"Thanks, Greg," he replied with a nod.

"Oh sure, trust the person who's been single all his life to give you dating advice," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "By all standards, he's too good for you and everyone knows it."

Blaise cleared his throat then, "What do you all think of ordering a few of those delicious looking cinnamon buns to share?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me," Harry replied as he slid back into his seat and bumped his knee against Draco's. "The only real question is if you want the iced ones or the honey ones," he said, turning to look at Draco, "What do you think, love?" he asked.

Draco looked at him and something cracked in his heart, Pansy and Blaise were right. Harry Potter was a dream and it couldn't last. He swallowed, "Let's do the iced one."

He supposed a little while longer before he talked some sense into Harry wouldn't hurt too much.

----------

Harry was in a great mood when they got back to his flat. "Well," he said as he toed his shoes off at the door, "That went well, didn't it?" he asked.

He didn't reply, he just stared at the other man and wondered how to tell him that they were never going to be able to work.

"Tea?" Harry asked, oblivious to Draco's inner turmoil as he headed into the kitchen without waiting for a response.

"You should break up with me," he blurted.

Whatever Harry had been holding shattered as it hit the floor. "Shite," he murmured. "Reparo." Then he returned to where Draco was still standing, a few feet away from the door. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

Draco couldn't quite meet his eye, "You should break up with me now," he said, "Before either of us can get more invested."

"Draco, what-?"

He shook his head and a tear slipped out, "You're too good for me, Harry, and when the press catches wind of this-"

"Stop it," Harry said, clasped Draco's shoulders, "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"Even my friends, the people who have loved me through some pretty dark places, say it's true!" he exclaimed, "Even my friends think you're too good for me, that I'm being delusional."

Harry took his hands in his and it was only then that Draco realized he was trembling. "Hey," he murmured, leaning in so their foreheads were touching. "Your friends are arseholes. I am not too good for you. Draco, I can't even match my socks properly."

And it was such a ridiculous thing to say that a startled laugh burst from his mouth.

Harry tilted his head up to kiss his nose. "Look, they won't be the last people who spout of complete nonsense about us. I'm sure that comes with the territory," he added. "But it doesn't change who you are."

"An ex-death eater," he said. "A school bully, a complete-"

"That's not who you are," Harry said, leaning back so he could see Draco more clearly. "It might have been a part of who you were but it's not who you are." He pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek, "You are brilliant," he said, "and you are gorgeous, and you're kind. And you've got a wicked sense of humor. You're passionate and you work hard."

"I've had to."

Harry nodded, "You're not the boy you were when we were in school just as I'm not the boy that I was when we were in school."

"But people will always remember-"

"What they think or remember doesn't matter," he said. "Because I know who you are and I don't give a rat's arse about what they think."

"I don't know, Harry," he said softly. "My past-"

"Do you think I'm the person they paint me to be?" he asked.

Draco shook his head, "Of course not but the wizarding world isn't going to accept this."

"I love you," he said simply. "And you, as you are, are more than enough."

"It's not going to be easy," Draco said softly.

The other man kissed him softly, "You're probably right," he said. "But I'm all in, if you are."

He pulled Harry into a tight hug and Harry hugged him back, "I'm in," he whispered.

"Then that's all we need," Harry said with a nod.

And Harry was right their friends came around but they found that they could weather the storms. There wasn't any trial or challenge they couldn't overcome when they were both willing to fight for the other.

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

Day 123: Feather | Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part 1)

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

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

You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

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

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[flowerwrites06]

thinning thread — jjk

Plot: In the heat of a tumultuous rough path in their marriage, Jungkook is handed their last resort. 

Pairing(s): Jungkook x Writer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2k+

Genre: Marriage!AU 

Tags & Warnings: angst, rough marriage, divorce, explicit smut 

Authors Note: sorry the reposting has been a little slow, everyone! the end of feb was a little rough but I’ll try to get the fics out as soon as I can. 

ALSO requests are currently open and they’ll close on Sunday! So be sure to fill the request form HERE

Days turned to, weeks turned to months the blanket of home they knitted together now stripped to nothing but a pathetic string. Both of them dangling and swinging on it pretending that the world around them didn’t just crumble beneath their feet. It started with regular fights over the lack of time they spent together; the usual reason most couple would go through a lovers’ spat. Then fights were followed with silent treatments lasting days on end to point where one of them would be out of the house completely.

Paranoia kicked in soon afterwards as Jungkook saw Belle chatting with one of her clients leading to yet another exhausting argument about her supposedly cheating. Jungkook left home that night for three days until he came back without saying a word. Belle spent more nights in her office using a glass of wine to loosen herself up and get some sleep while writing herself to near madness.

Her publishing company even asked her if she was okay after her latest manuscript submission stating it had a lot more disturbing themes than her usual works. Belle simply stated that things changed. Happiness wasn’t a fucking commonality anymore and the themes she wrote now seemed more realistic.

Jungkook spent hours in the gym, punching bags until the skin on his knuckles ripped apart breaking himself down enough to get some damn shut eye. He was getting a lot more complaints from his producers these days saying he had too much of a short fuse nowadays. Which, to prove their point, he ended up snapping and earned himself a break away from sending in anymore songs until he got himself sorted.

Swinging and swinging on this thinning thread, it all dwindled down into one night.

Instead of going back to her office for the night, Belle paid a visit to her lawyer about a set of paperwork that she needed organized. Thankfully the name she made for herself allowed the time to finish all these documents were significantly lessened. The next day after making her request she was able to have the papers in her hand.

-

As she walked into the apartment the woman realized how long it had been since she walked into their home at this hour. The twilight sky looked like a painting through the large panned windows, creating a beautiful silhouette of the city buildings. For a moment Belle could have smiled until she heard chain clanging and something thudding.

Jungkook began his attack on what could have been his fifteenth punching bag this fortnight, not caring about the world around him.

She sighed, placing her bag on the kitchen counter before stomping over to the man with her brown envelope in hand. “I need to talk to you.” Belle announced trying to sound louder than the punching bag thudding and clanging.

The man gave the bag one harsh punch before letting out a deep sigh, a droplet of sweat . “I’m not in the mood.” He mumbled immediately causing a rush of fury in her belly.

Belle tightened her jaw her whole body urging to just throw the papers on the floor until he sees it. But she took a long, drawling breath as she walked closer to the male who proceeded to assault his punching bag. “This is important.” She spoke firmly. “Just listen to me for one second.” She pursed her lips when Jungkook finally held onto the punching bag to pause for a moment.

Though the male still glared at her a little making her heart drop.

She remembered when he used to look at her with eyes soft and sparkling. Now all she felt was hate radiating from him. Belle handed the envelope over which he accepted, ripping off the top carelessly before pulling out the papers.

Jungkooks’ brows furrowed when he skimmed through the contents of the document. “What the hell is this?” He fumed.

“Divorce papers.” Belle replied simply.

He tightened his jaw still staring at the words on the pages instead of looking up at her. “I need a pen.” Jungkook muttered quietly before walking past her towards the living room.

Chest clenched tightly but she let out a quick breath before following him along watching him walk towards the sitting area.

Belle’s brows furrowed when she noticed they were walking away from the staircase to the study to get a pen. Instead she saw Jungkook pad towards the couches, to the fireplace sitting in front of them still running to keep the place warm and cozy. Even though the atmosphere was anything but that.

It didn’t take long until finally she saw Jungkook tossing the papers and empty envelope right into the fire. Stammering she watched the flames rise higher before dissipating the documents, their names burned away achingly slow. “Jungkook.” She tried to move past him to grab the remnants of the papers but both her arms were grabbed to keep her in place.

“Are you trying to hurt me now? Huh?” Jungkooks’ eyes burned into hers, hair matted to his glistening forehead.

Belle yanked out of his grasp which made his move his arms but he still stood dangerously close. “Don’t try to make me look like the bad guy here.” She seethed. “We’ve tried to fix this but it’s not working. You didn’t even want to talk to me when I walked into the room.”

“Because I thought you were going to start up another fight which clearly you were.” He gestured harshly towards the fireplace.

“Do you have a better idea?” Her vision grew blurry. “Because I don’t want to wake up another morning feeling like you hate me.” Belle hadn’t spoken about her feelings to the man in a long time. So long that expressing it now made her feel utterly exposed.

“You really think I hate you?” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth. “You really think I’d still be in this apartment because I fucking hated you?”

“When was the last time you told me you loved me then? Hm?” Tears streamed down her face, mascara smudging at the corners of her eyes a little. “When was the last time we actually spoke to each other without yelling or crying?” Belle sobbed out.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.” He protested, his eyes glistening even in the dimmed warm light. “How did you even think I would sign those papers, huh?”

Belle shrugged weakly, smiling a little sadly. “Maybe you’d be happier without me.”

His eyes twitched as he pursed his lips together tightly. “Would you be happier without me?”

Her heart felt tired at this point tightening around itself as if trying to push out all the hurt or keep it all in. Happiness wasn’t a commonality for sure. But would it be any better if she couldn’t see him altogether? Spending years thinking of what could have happened if they just—kept holding onto that thread?

Without uttering a single word, Belle merely shook her head. In a second she was reminded at how well Jungkook still was at knowing what she needed right at that moment.

A small tear escaping down his cheek, Jungkook grabbed her by her cheeks and pressed a warm kiss against her lips. He could taste a saltiness on her dampened lips before his hands trailed down, wrapping them around her waist to cancel out any distance between them. He was fucking done being so far away from his baby, unable to touch her because they were too stubborn to say sorry. With a swift motion he picked her up and impatiently pressed her down against the fluffy rug.

Belle pulled at her scarf which was quickly pushed away and her cardigan lay as a blanket underneath. Fingers hooked on the hem of his cold T-shirt before pulling it over his head and discarding no one cared where. She felt his nails firmly graze up her thigh, hooking onto her panties and pulling it down only one of her thighs roughly. The thin piece of clothing dangling on her left ankle as Jungkook devoured her lips not wanting to unlock their tongues dancing.

His bulging shorts rubbed against her bare core making her moan against his lips. Jungkooks’ still wrapped hand pulled at her hair to press her further down on the floor. He watched her mouth part, small gasp passing through as his hips rubbed against her pooling core. “Look at me.” He spoke in a raspy voice, lust blown and glossy eyes piercing into her. “I want you to look at me.” He whispered, forehead pressing together as he carelessly pushed down his shorts to let his desperate cock free.

Belle felt his thick, wet tip rub up and down her sleek heat, walls already clenching to a get an aching taste of him inside her again. “Please—” A choked scream broke out of her when the man slammed into her. Her pussy swallowed up every inch of his cock, aching a little after being long-deprived from the stretch. She kept her gaze did not waiver however watching him contort his face in pleasure.

Jungkook could barely hear himself think after feeling his whole member hugged by that familiar heat. So deliciously tight and warm, he could stay like this forever if he could. “Fuck I missed you.” He whispered, hot breath hitting her face before he kissed her again, sighing in relief as he began thrusting into her. Every snap of his hips hit hard and deep wanting to make his movements embedded in their minds so they forget just how fucking good they felt together.

She grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life, legs spread out welcomingly for him to destroy her desperate heat. All her long hibernated nerves now jolted awake by the beautiful friction between them, electrifying her body.

He pulled apart the front of her dress, a few buttons flying off but Belle couldn’t care less. Neither of them could. This was the closest they had been in months. Nothing was going to stop them from spewing out all their bottled frustrations.

Belle felt his hot mouth press wet kisses on the curve of her breast, teeth grazing against the tender skin making her smile in bliss. Fingers gripped at the roots of his slightly damp hair reaching down to kiss his head. A gasp caught in her throat when he thrusted into her faster pushing to the limits of her release but she pushed him away.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed out staring at her confused but he quickly saw what she wanted.

Belle pushed on his chest to make him lie on his back before straddling him, the panties on her ankle slid away. She raised herself over his erect cock and slowly let her core devour him again causing a small groan under Jungkooks’ throat. His hands instinctively moved under the skirt of her dress, squeezing her bottom. Still her eyes fixated on him as her hips swayed, feeling his tip rub against her sweet spot making her legs melt.

She moved her hands to where his were and Jungkook immediately intertwined their fingers together. Belle carefully unwrapped the black cloth around his knuckles as the male sat up now, wanting to feel her closer.

Pressing a small kisses on his healing wounds, she quickened her pace.

Jungkook grabbed the back of her neck and intoxicated her with another kiss while his other hand guided her hips.

Belle held onto his shoulders now and bounced on his cock, the sheer pressure against her sweet spot could throw her over the edge in minutes. Arms wrapped around him as her teeth sunk into his skin, muffling her moans. Fingers ran through the hair on the back of his head, lips pressing messy kisses on his neck and cheek. “I love you.” She whispered in his ear.

The male grabbed the side of her neck again forcing her to meet his gaze. Thumb brushed the corner of her teary eyes, mascara smudging across her temple on his finger pad. Lips were barely hovering one another as Belle slowed her thrusts. “I love you too.” He sighed out the words, grabbing bits of her hair before pressing on her warm lips. “I love you so much.” His latter words were mumbled but Belle still heard them.

A small sob shook through her seeing that warmth again. One she hadn’t seen it in so long that it almost felt like dream but Jungkooks’ hands on her skin reminded her it wasn’t. This was all real.

Jungkook turned her around to lay on her stomach, legs straightened out and spread so he could sneak in between. His cock slid in on its own at this point with how fucked out her heat was and he didn’t waste a single second longer to continue the pace. He leaned into her, kisses lain on her shoulder and sweet words whispered in her ear.

He intertwined his fingers with a hand and Belle hugged it closer, his sweaty torso pressed firmly against her back as the onslaught of thrusts began. It was slow but it dug deep into her core and steadily patterned. Her belly pressed against the floor made it all the more easier to rub against her sweet spot and create some friction against her clit.

“Don’t stop.” She whispered giving Jungkook even more determination to torture her core with incessant pounding. Warmth gathered around her leaking heat and pleasure tickled under the skin of her thighs causing her moans to shake.

Jungkook drilled into her, his own moans melting with her as his climax now flooded his entire form, his hand gripping onto hers like it was a part of him.

Belle cried out, trying to muffle the pitch by pressing her lips against the back of his hand. The heated release making her legs shake under him uncontrollably. Cheek pressed against the rug now, she bit down her bottom lip, tears still flowing out of her from the force of her orgasm mixed with everything else.

He filled her up with his release uttering the most delicious whimpers and moan before kissing her cheek softly. “You okay, baby?” Jungkook whispered, caressing her tear stain cheek.

Belle smiled quickly, nodding even though fresh tears still fell turning to face him properly. “I’m glad you didn’t sign it.” She giggled through her light sobs.

Jungkook chuckled leaning in and lay a soft kiss on her salty lips. “I’d never leave you, baby.”

“Promise?” She asked in a whisper.

“Promise.”

Another thread now knitted with the one they had been dangling on, making them that tiny bit stronger than they were yesterday.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining, 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!

Taglist Form is in my bio!

Series Masterlist

Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.

“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”

She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.

Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.

“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.

“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.

“What do you mean again?” you ask.

“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”

“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.

“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”

You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.

You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.

There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.

You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.

You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.

The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.

Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.

After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.

He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.

Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.

“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.

“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.

“No,” Lee scoffs.

“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.

“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.

“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.

“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”

The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.

“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.

You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.

“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”

“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.

“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”

“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.

“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.

“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.

“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”

“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.

“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.

“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.

Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.

About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.

You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.

His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.

“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”

“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”

“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Of course, darling.”

“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”

“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.

Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.

“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”

“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”

“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.

“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.

“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.

Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.

“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”

“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.

“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.

“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”

“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”

He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.

“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.

“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.

“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”

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[ficsforeren]

Pff friends to lovers or enemies to lovers or or fwb to lovers

no wait fuck some ideas just popped up in my head

IMAGINE THIS ANON

Friends with Benefits (NSFW)

Eren is in a band and he goes on tour as an opening act for one of the biggest stars out there. He's just starting but he's popular as fuck. Being his childhood friend, it's a wonder why he still keeps being in touch with you. Maybe he's just comfortable having you around cause unlike other girls, you're not screaming his name at the top of your lungs whenever you see him. Well, not yet anyway.

You have a crush on him, everybody does, because he’s just that physically attractive. You haven’t really thought about dating him, though, and you're not sure how he feels about you. One night, as he performed in his hometown, he asked you to see him on stage and you did. He invited you to the after party, had his arms thrown over your shoulders as you got so drunk, you could barely walk straight. He drove you home, said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek but instead of stepping out of his car, you caught his lip between yours and before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"I don't know." you kissed him again and this time, his hand slipped underneath your shirt.

"I don't want to stop," he moaned against your mouth, trailing wet kisses to your neck.

"Then don't."

It was the first time you slept together, but it wasn't the last. You both wanted to keep it casual. He was afraid of commitment, and you knew you'd be constantly jealous if this became serious. You slept with him whenever he was in town, promised to not get attached. One day, as you stepped down from his bed, you didn't linger around for long to have a conversation. You had a date with this cute boy named Armin and you couldn't afford to be late.

"Going somewhere?" Eren asked, a rolled joint stuck between his teeth as he lit it up. He was bare naked underneath the sheets, with tattoos painting his arm.

"Yeah." You hooked your bra together, throwing a little smile over your shoulder. "I've got a date."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"But we just had sex."

You laughed. "Yeah, so?" you walked away from the bed, searching for your panties.

Eren didn't respond but there was a little scowl on his face. You didn't see it, even if you did, you shouldn't pay any attention to it 'cause you were keeping this casual, right? There was no right for him to be jealous.

He kept quiet as you dressed back into your clothes, fixing your hair and re-applying your lipstick on the vanity mirror that his hotel room provided. When you were finished, you grabbed your purse and walked to his spot. "Goodbye," you kissed him on the cheek once but before you could step away, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back down to the bed. His mouth tasted like weed and a little bit of you from when he went down on you earlier. "Eren--" you tried to push him away by the shoulders but he pinned your hands against the sheets, tying your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand, while his other one slipped underneath your dress. "Wait--"

He wasn't stopping, his tongue sliding against yours, his fingers rubbing against your clit from above your panties. Your body responded to him naturally, like how it always did. He pushed your underwear to the side, broke off the kiss just so he could suck on his fingers and coat them with saliva before he eased not one, but two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out of you until you were clutching hard against his shoulders. "Fuck, why--" you couldn't form a sentence. He crooked his fingers inside, scissoring them, and applying pressure to your clit with his thumb. His mouth was painting bruises on your neck, teeth gritting against your sensitive skin. He drove you all the way to the edge but when you began to squeeze your legs around his hand, ready to be washed away by your orgasm, he stopped.

Eren retracted his fingers, brought them into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks around them. He darted out his tongue, licking your juices off his digits, never taking his eyes away from yours as he did it.

"Have fun on your date," he said, smirking before he stepped down the bed and walked toward the bathroom. "Oh," he stopped, propping an arm against the doorframe. "It's gonna show." Seeing you frown, he tapped one finger to his neck. You blushed, knowing that you wouldn't be able to go on a date with his love marks plastered all over your skin.

***

Enemies to lovers

Imagine being his enemy from day one ever since you met each other. he's hot as fuck but he's been nothing but an ass to you and you can't stand him. One day, Eren sees you eating by yourself in the cafeteria, so he grins and walks to your table with spring in his steps.

"This is just sad," he coos, casually sitting in front of you with a cheeseburger in his hands. "So you have no friends, no lover, and your hair smells like sewer? I feel sorry for you, Sweetheart."

"Fuck off, Jaeger, I'm not in the mood." You grumble. "Also, I'd appreciate it more if you don't sniff my hair. Ever."

"I can smell it from a thousand miles away, idiot, take a shower for once." But when he doesn't hear any retort coming from you, his face grows concerned. "What? Did someone die?"

"No," you sigh, "It's just..." Your eyes dart to where Jean is sitting between Connie and Sasha, laughing so loudly that he's starting to gain everyone's attention. He's the school's jock and earlier this morning, he tripped you with his foot and whistled at you when he saw a glimpse of your panties. It was downright humiliating and you wanted to fight back but you didn't want to make a scene. you avert your gaze away before Eren notices, clearing your throat. "It's fine. Just a bit under the weather that's all."

Eren frowns, noticing where you've been looking. "Is it Jean?"

"No, it's--"

"It's fucking Jean, isn't it?"

"Eren--" but he's already back to his feet, rushing to Jean's table and grabs him around the collar.

Jean chokes out, "Yo--what the fuck--"

"What did you do to her?" Eren says through clenched teeth.

"Do what--I didn't--" Jean notices you're standing behind him with your breath hitched in your throat. "Oh. I don't know what you're talking about, Jae--"

"I'm gonna ask this one more time, you fucking horse face." Eren tightens his grip around his collar. "What did you do to her?"

Everyone is staring and you feel it's more embarrassing to keep this up so you stroke Eren's arm and pull him back to you. "Eren, nothing happened."

"You look like you're gonna cry, you idiot, something must have happened." He glares back at Jean. "Apologize to her."

"Why are you defending her so much?" Jean retorts. "Aren't you two supposed to hate each other?"

"Yeah, she's a bitch but she's mine," he growls. "And if you ever lay your fucking hands on her again, I'm gonna make sure you pay for it."