#i like dramatic lighting if you haven't noticed

[rubytalks]

I have nothing to show for the fandom other than this frame of the animatic I'm doing since....1? 2 years ago? Anyways enjoy

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Zuko has been with the gang for a while now and you've been able to teach him how to do most any chore. He can set up tents, bathe Appa and even dry clothes off without lighting them on fire (it happened a couple times tho). But the one thing he just can't get is cooking.

He stands beside you as you lower a pot over the fire gently, his eyebrows knitted. He watches as you angle it so there's no chance of it falling as it small bubbles appear; signaling its commence of boiling. You sit down on a flat stone and take out a small knife, gesturing a c'mere motion with the blade.

"Can you hand me the tomatoes?" He grabs them and passes them over, ears flushing when your hand brushes his.

"You're going to boil them?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, this is for the broth and the beef. Everybody has been craving it but Aang is a vegetarian, remember?"

He nods and pops a squat next to you on a large rock. Your ankles touch and his toes flex. "You're making him something separate." You agreed with a hum and begin to slice the fruit over a bowl in your lap.

"That's nice of you." You glance up briefly and give him a sheepish grin. He finds it endearing.

As you focus your attention back to the task at hand, Zuko wonders what he should say next. Before he can really consider it, you toss a piece of tomato at Momo and ask, "Your uncle makes tea right?"

"Uh, yeah. Uncle loves tea."

"How come you haven't learned how to?"

He doesn't want to admit that he didn't pay attention when he should've, when he had time to notice how Iroh did it. "I wasn't taught."

"Do you want me to teach you?" You look up and pause your slicing. The bowl has a small stack of tomato piled inside that tumbles when you shake it.

"I'm not very good at uh.. making things." You snicker, remembering when he burned lettuce a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, I noticed," You smile to let him know you're teasing and he returns it a little shyer. "I could, though. Teach you. You don't have to be good at it."

"What's the point of teaching me if I'm not good at it?"

"I like spending time with you." You shrug and reach for an avocado across him. Your arm is just too short and he takes the opportunity to grab it for you, turning his head so you don't see his blush. "And you'd get the hang of it, tea is like.. your birthright."

Zuko chuckles. He always thought his birthright was violence. He wonders if it still is. He doesn't say that. "Because Uncle owned a tea shop?"

"Yeah," You laugh, "And you can use your fire bending, yunno? But I'm not sure if you have the patience for it."

"Why's that?" Suddenly Sokka is next to him, holding a pile of sticks and asking you where you want them. You point next to the fire and notice the water jumping in the pot. Standing up, you motion for the broth ingredients and Zuko hands you the pre-mixed bowl. Sokka is quickly distracted by Toph demanding to know where Aang went and Zuko turns back to you.

The crackle of the fire comforts the atmosphere as the sun sets, giving your face an orange hue that dances dramatically from your chin to your nose. You tuck a piece of hair away and Zuko can see the way your eyes glitter in the soft glow, your pupils swallowing the color of their rims.

It's silent for a bit, Zuko simply watching as you stir the pot and occasionally call out for Sokka and Toph to stop arguing. You set down the ladle and pick up a bowl of assorted vegetables and fruits, passing it to Zuko.

"Can you find that bread from the village? I think it's in Katara's bag?" He disappears to rummage and returns holding a half-eaten loaf.

"Okay, that should be enough," You remark as you turn away from cooking and towards his returning figure. You make eye contact with him and your nose wrinkles in the moonlight as you smile, "Can you cut that in half and make a sandwich?"

He sits down and follows your instructions, first wiping the knife you'd used earlier before slipping it in the loaf and beginning to separate it. His dominant hand slices down as he keeps it steady in the other and as he gets to the end, he takes his chance to look at you.

Your feet are bare on the ground, a little dirty and as you shift from side to side, your heels lift enough he can see your bridges. A daffodil is stuck to the bottom of your left foot, staring at him before being engulfed in a step again. You move around the pot, pushing the ingredients stuck to the side back in the middle and the flower is left upside down on a rock.

His finger burns in pain and he notices a small cut. He had finished slicing the bread and had dug into his hand. Cursing, he sets aside your assignment and stands up holding his hand as blood flows slowly. You notice immediately and rush over. You bend down and rip a bit of your skirt, wrapping it around his hand and shushing him back down onto the rock again.

"It's not too deep, you should be okay." He nods, hissing as the fabric rubs the sensitive flesh. "It hurts?"

"Yeah." You press his hand towards you, checking it again and clutching it from the palm.

"You can go back to cooking." You look up at him confused and he continues, "It might burn."

"It's fine, it needs to marinate. You need my attention more."

The firelight covers the furious burning of his face, "Are you sure? It's a small cut."

Your expression is hard to see in the dark but the coy fluttering of your features is obvious enough. You're nervous, and a shade darker on your cheeks and oh, you're blushing too.

"I care about you." You murmur and it's a blessing he hears it.

"I- I care about you too," He offers, the urge to look away would be worse if you weren't already doing that. He watches the twitch of your nose as your smile takes your lips again. You meet his gaze and he realizes how close you are. He feels your hot breath on his face and leans in just a bit more. "You look really... really pretty."

Your eyes crinkle in the corners as your mouth spreads wider and reveals your teeth, dimples making his heart flutter as he confesses, "You're glowing. The- the fire makes you glow."

You digest his words with a gentle laugh covered by your hand. "Yeah," You pause and quirk your head to the side, "You do."

He wants to faint and of course he doesn't know what to say. You help him out again and suddenly your nose is brushing his. "You like me?"

He nods because he's not sure he can speak without squeaking.

"I like you too.." Your words are felt on his lips as you get even closer. Your eyes dart across his face, seemingly checking for affirmation before your mouth is on his and all the blood rushes to his head. His hand comes up to hold your head as he kisses you back. For a second, it's so amazing as you lick across his bottom lip until pain is shooting up his hand and he has to pull away.

Your hair had brushed his still open cut and he cradled his hand a little closer to himself as you re-examine it. "Sorry.."

Zuko looks at you like you're crazy, "Don't be sorry."

You glance up and away, still flustered.

"I've liked you for so long," His admission fills the night wind and you prompt him to continue with wide eyes. He's a little quieter as he finishes with, "Since Ba Sing Se."

He misses your voice dearly as he waits for your answer. He gets it in the form of giggles ticklish as butterflies. He watches you with curiosity until you say, "I was wrong, you are patient."

He laughs too now and you both shake beside the fire with hands holding bellies. The spurt of broth leaping out of the pot brings you back and you scramble up to stir it. Zuko watches as you step over the daffodil again and it flips upright, showing him that it was two, smushed so closely it looked like one. He looks up at you in admiration as you taste the stew and feels a surge of affection for whatever luck landed him at your side tonight.

"You were wrong too," His face contorts in confusion and you elaborate, "You're good at making things... you made me like you."

He's the luckiest guy in the fire nation. He goes to tell you but you speak first. "And I want to teach you how to make tea, but I think I should let Iroh. When we find him."

Zuko's left with a mouth hanging open and a heart stuck between missing his Uncle and loving you for all your kindness and thoughtful nature. He settles on both. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."

You make a strange face as you gaze at him over the open flame, it looks intense in the orange heat. "You don't give his love for you enough credit."

Then you're coming over and pecking him on the cheek, making him dizzy again. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper "I think he'll do anything if you let him teach you to make tea."

His smile is warm and flustered when you teasingly add, "I would, and I like you a little bit less than he does."

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie are enemies, you can't stand each other, but when you spot him with Chrissy in the woods you're forced to confront your feelings for him and the fact you'll have to hide it from him.

He hates you, he'd only make your life miserable if he found out.

Everybody lives, nobody dies Au, angst to fluff, jealousy and idiots very much in love. 18+ mdni.

❤️

You can hear Eddie before you see him as you walk into the cafeteria with your cheer mates. As usual, he's making a spectacle of himself at the Hellfire table, standing on it and calling out the marching band, basketball players and the party crowd.

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you attempt to walk past the table but Eddie seeks you out, a smirk on his face as he focuses his attention fully on you.

"There's my favourite cheerleader" his winks at you and you stand your ground, ready for whatever shit he's about to say.

His purpose was annoying you, or at least thats what it felt like. It was always you that got his ire, who grabbed his attention every time. Honestly it was the same for you when Eddie was around.

It was like both of you were moths to a flame, something simmered between the two of you that you couldn't place or at least if you could, you didn't want to examine the cause too closely.

"There's my favourite dumbass" you fire back and he clutches his heart like you've wounded him. Ever since you and Eddie laid eyes on each other it was like you were magnets to the other.

Whenever your paths crossed there was tension in the air, banter exchanged that left both of you bothered and wanting more... Whatever it was between the two of you could wait for another day, you had cheer practice, prom committee and a bake sale to organise.

You did not have time for Eddie Munson today.

Not that he cares about your plans. He jumps off the table and lands right in front of you. Ugh. "Munson, I haven't got time for your dramatics today, go bother someone else"

He pouts and it's frustrating that he looks almost endearing while doing it. "How can I cope if I haven't been told to go kiss my own ass and the many other insults you've spouted at me just in the last week or so sweetheart?"

Here's the thing. You're certain Eddie enjoys arguing with you, gets some sort of pleasure from it. If you're being honest you enjoy it too.

"Oh bite me, you'll survive Munson" his eyes light up and then you hear a snigger from behind you, it's his sheeples or whatever he calls them, Dustin, Lucas and Mike watching the two of you fascinated.

"You say I'm oblivious, look at those two" Mike mutters and Eddie still overhears even though Mike has whispered it.

"What was that Wheeler?" Eddie narrows his eyes at him and Mike turns pink and looks suddenly very interested in his soda. You slip away from Eddie when he's distracted.

Both of you are rattled by what Mike said but you try not to show it as you walk away.

❤️

As the day winds to an end you're beyond relieved to just be going home, then you notice Chrissy walking into the woods instead of heading home herself.

Curious, you follow her into the woods, then freeze as you find out that she's meeting up with Eddie.

It's an awkward conversation at first but the tension melts away as Eddie and Chrissy are talking, he's goofing around to make her smile.

Throws himself backwards into a pile of leaves, asking if there is something in his hair, shy little smiles and hiding his face with hair as he talks to her.

There's a sinking feeling in your stomach, an aching in your heart that multiples when Chrissy giggles along with Eddie.

Seeing enough you stomp away, crashing blindly through the trees, there's wetness on your cheeks and you realise you've been crying. Crying over Eddie fucking Munson and the fact he was obviously smitten with Chrissy.

It wasn't a surprise, everyone was and to Eddie you were just an annoyance, someone who pissed him off and that was that. You always knew that but now the realisation was paticularly crushing.

You liked Eddie, like really liked him. Of all the guys you could fall for, why did it have to be the one who spent half his time thinking of new ways to irratate the hell out of you?

Couldn't you have realised this any sooner?

Shit if he even knew how you felt about him it would he horrid for you, he would never let you forget it and show you his disgust.

So it was settled. You would stay far far away from Eddie Munson, and his cute dimples and pretty brown eyes. They were nothing but trouble.

❤️

For the next few days you keep your distance from Eddie. It's hard though, because he seems to be wherever you are with that amused grin on his face.

You don't even entertain his stupid barbs, you ignore him for as long as you can, but he's growing more frustrated that you aren't your usual sarcastic self.

It gets to the point that you turn around during one encounter and glare at him, embarrassed as tears pool in your eyes. "Will you just leave me alone Munson" his eyes widen at your tears, you storm away before he can say anything else.

...

Eddie does leave you alone, you don't see him the next day which is a rarity.

It doesn't last for too long, you find him at his van talking to one of The Hellfire Members. He turns around and spots you, shooing his friend away.

"Will you talk to me" he sounds almost pleading and it throws you off balance. There's no way he missed talking to you is there?

"Why for you to rant and insult me, or make me feel even more shitty about myself,'" he reels back like you've slapped him.

"What? I don't... 'he trails off as you scoff and turn away from him.

"Yes you do. Not all time but sometimes you're just fucking mean. I guess because I'm and I quote "so bitchy and vapid''you think that it won't bother me" his face falls and he shakes his head.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was a mean douchebag" you look away from him stubbornly and shrug.

"Yeah well, I'm not sweet and perfect like Chrissy, everyone adores her" fuck you adored her, so no wonder Eddie liked her.

"What does Chrissy have to do about this?" He looks puzzled. His big brown eyes searching you for an explanation.

Flustered you explain what you saw. "You were all flirty and sweet with her the other day, when I saw you in the woods together, not that I care" you wince realising that you've gave away that you do care very much.

This was stupid. You were jealous of your friend and you shouldn't be. Having enough you decide to walk away but Eddie follows you.

"Chrissy wanted some weed for her and Jason, that's all, I'm not interested in Chrissy princess and she's definitely not interested in me". You're stunned by this, you never expected Chrissy to ever try weed and this stops you in your tracks.

"Seriously?" you gape and he gestures for you to sit in his van, opens the door for you as he does so.

"Why were you avoiding me sweetheart?" he asks you his tone very gentle. You feel your whole body flush with mortification as he stares at you, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't make me say it Eddie, you'll only turn around and be a complete ass about it"

Or be sweet like he is now and turn you down kindly, looking at you with pity. There's a brief pause and then his fingers interlace through yours, the feel of his calloused fingers entwining with yours sends tingles down your spine.

"Tell me"

"I have feelings for you okay. l've fallen for you badly, seeing you with Chrissy made me realise that. So now you know and if you're going to be a dick about it then do it now" your lip wobbles but you refuse to cry again.

He softens and cradles your head in his hands. The gesture is so tender and kind.

"Sweetheart, you're all I think about. Every single day from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Only you" he kisses you tenderly and pulls you close to him, kisses you until you're both breathless and smiling goofily at each other.

"I'm so fucking into you sweetheart, one of the things I talked to Chrissy about, if you stuck around long enough to find out"

Now it makes sense why Chrissy asked you earlier if you had talked to Eddie, looked disappointed when you said no, gently urged you to.

"You know he talks about you a lot" Chrissy grinned at you, there's a knowing look in her eyes, yet you shrugged off what she said. Figured that he only talked about how you annoyed him.

Shit you were such an idiot to not see what she really meant. So wrapped up in the idea that it was Chrissy that Eddie was smitten with. Chrissy would never let anyone talk crap about you either, you should have known that.

Eddie rests his head against yours. Kisses it briefly then a cheesy smile forms on his face. "You're crazy about me huh sweetheart?" he teases and you roll your eyes at him.

"Doofus, you're just as crazy about me" he squeezes your hand, tugs you back in for another kiss that robs you if your next words. That's fine, you could argue about that later... much much later.

💞

[cyripticchronicler]

i adore your writing & i had an random idea! (it’s absolutely okay if you don’t do it, i just thought i’d request <3)

any of the marauders having a crush on marauders!reader & the other maraduers just straight up teasing him about it all the time yet reader is SO oblivious to it & thinks the maraduer just flirts with everyone 😭

Teasing Words and Hidden Feelings

Paring: James Potter x Reader

Summary: You're used to Sirius and Remus's teasing, you just wish the things they always teased James about were true.

A/N: I haven't written in forever and this definitely isn't my best work. But thank you for requesting! I appreciate it and hope this fic did your request justice. Also please ignore the really bad summary and title lmao.

Warnings: Not proofread, kissing, alcohol, spoiler for the ending of Romeo and Juliet??

Masterlist

The candle-lit hall glows brightly in the dark of the night, chattering bouncing off the stone walls as people eat the feast in front of them. Remus and Sirius sit across from you, a knowing glint in their eyes as they huddle together, whispers drowned out by the bustling crowd in the great hall.

“What?” You question nervously, your hand fiddling with the hem of your skirt as they cast another look your way. 

James sits beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he notices the confusion on your face. “Ignore them, love, they’re being idiots.” He shoots them a glare and Sirius waggles his eyebrows. “Sorry…Love,” He says to you, bursting out in laughter while he smacks his knee. 

Your heart sinks at the feeling of being left out, like you were missing the joke but you push those thoughts away, shooting James a warm smile and shoving food in your mouth. 

You’re relatively new to the group. James, Remus and Sirius have been friends for years, even hanging out over the summer, but you’ve only joined their group just last year, and you can’t help but feel you’re missing something when it comes to their jokes.

They've been nothing but kind and inclusive but it’s obvious that there’s something they’re not telling you. And when Sirius starts dramatically confessing his love to Remus while James sits beside you, tense as a rock, you’ve decided to just ask. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, your tone light as you look between the boys. Sirius stops what he’s doing, a mischievous smirk gracing his harsh features, “I’m acting out-”

“-The scene for the play he’s in.” James interrupts, laughing awkwardly and running a hand through his hair with flushed cheeks. Your heart tugs at his laugh and you smile, knowing you’d never get sick of hearing his joy. 

“You’re in a play, Sirius?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion as you rack your mind to figure out whether the school even does plays. “Where are you doing the play? I’d love to come.” You smile supportively, though it wavers when you notice James cringing and Remus shooting you a pitying look. 

“Oh,” You force a laugh, “You’re not are you?”

Sirius shakes his head, grinning wide, “No, but I’d be great in a play. I mean, I have the looks for it.” He runs his hand through his silky black hair, posing and winking, “I could be part of that muggle play, Romeo and Juliet. Then I’d meet my true love.” He jokes and a small smile pulls at your lips. 

James chuckles, his arm hitting yours, “Maybe we should be part of the play, and you’re my Juliet.” Your cheeks flush ferociously at his words, eyes widening but you force yourself to shrug it off, knowing he flirts with everyone. “Yeah, maybe.”

Sirius groans, capturing your attention once again. “Did you hear that, James? Maybe. I’m telling you, darling, he’s going to go back to his dorm and cry himself to sleep. How could you be so cruel?”

You scowl playfully, “He’s going to need to try a lot harder than that if he wants me to be his Juliet.” From the corner of your eye, James nods, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. You turn to look at him fully, shooting him a small smile that he returns. 

“You know they both kill themselves, right?” Remus questions from where he sits, silently observing the conversation. 

“Oh.”

✰✰✰

The soft crackling of the fireplace has your eyes fluttering shut, moving your hand so that it’s placed under your cheek in a makeshift pillow. You know you should probably head up to your dorm for an actual nap, but the warmth of the common room draws you in until you’re lying on the couch in front of the fire, the hand that’s not under your chin moving to cover your eyes from the bright sun that reflects through the window. 

It’s Saturday and you’ve planned to sleep the draining week behind, the clear sky allowing you to rest in an empty common room since everyone else decided to soak in the sun. 

You’re close to falling asleep, ready to sleep your problems away when the common room door opens, the familiar sounds of the boys laugh causing you to snap your eyes open. 

You smile at the snarky comments aimed at each other, sitting up to peek at them over the couch. Remus spots your slow movements, grinning at you with a roll of his eyes and coming to sit in the armchair across from you. 

“Were you trying to sleep?” He asks, amusement shining in his eyes when you nod, returning to your previous position lying down, eyes fighting to stay open. 

“How was Hogsmeade?” You attempt to converse, though you wish to sleep. “It was good!” Sirius answers for Remus, patting your head playfully as he moves towards the other couch, legs splayed out in front of him, leaving no room for James and you roll your eyes with a smile, forcing yourself to sit up so there’s room for him. 

“Thank you, Love.” He winks and you blush, the strength in your neck failing you as your head falls on his shoulder. He tenses and holds his breath, cheeks turning a deep red. 

Remus notices and grins cheekily, “Remember to breathe, James, or else you’ll never get to ask her on a date.” 

Your eyes widen and you groan, moving to sit up properly. James grips the back of your neck, moving you so you’re back against his shoulder, your heart beating wildly in your chest, resounding in your ears. “It’s okay, love, I’ll make sure to ask you out on a date before I die.” He mutters, playfulness coating his voice though his smile is strained. You scoff to cover the squeal that threatens to escape your lips, “Go find another girl to torture please.” You don’t mean it, wanting nothing more for James to mean the words he’s saying. 

But he’s a flirt. You’ve seen the way he talks to others, the way they blush and bite their lips, you just wish he didn’t have such a big effect on you. That he didn’t cause your heart to speed up, your palms to turn sweaty, or your body to burn from his gaze. 

You lay back down, knees curled up to your chest so James has room, you close your eyes, planning to ignore the boys as they chat quietly. 

You’re half asleep when James grabs your calf, moving so your feet are atop his legs, thumb gently stroking your ankle. 

“You’re so whipped.”

“Shut up, Moony.”

✰✰✰

Your screams are drowned out by the others around you, hands clapping while you jump up and down, breaking out into laughter when you make eye contact with Lily who’s cheering just as hard.

James’ smile is the sun itself, his wide grin shining as he soars through the sky, arm up high, showing off the golden snitch.

His eyes search the crowd, landing on you and you grin, biting your lip to contain your laughter. His eyes crinkle, head tilting in an invite for you to get off the stands.

You make your way with the rest of the crowd, linking arms with Remus so you don’t get split up. You’re talking excitedly when you make it to the field, hands moving frantically in front of you. “He was amazing, Remus! He was so fast- Merlin he’s incredible.” You laugh, jumping up and down.

Remus chuckles. “Why don’t you tell him that? He’d grow red faster than you could blink.” Hitting him playfully on the arm, you roll your eyes. “Oh shush.”

Your eyes track James, talking to Sirius with a big smile. You run up, pulling him in for a tight hug. “You did so well,” You whisper, breath fanning across his neck, unknowingly sending goosebumps up his spine.

He kisses your head, your heart skipping a beat, “Thank you, Love. It means a lot to me.” With one hand stroking your cheek gently, the other moves to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You turn to mush, eyes softening. “James, I-“

“Quick Remus do the same,” You frown, turning around to see Sirius forcing Remus’ hand on his cheek, giving him his best doe eyes.

“What the-“

James forces your eyes back on him, a tight smile on his face. “Ignore them. What were you going to say?”

You shake your head, hands moving to hold his arm, muscles straining against the tight quidditch shirt, “Nothing. Are we celebrating the Gryffindor win tonight?”

He nods, walking off and not casting a glance toward Remus and Sirius behind you, “Yeah, you coming?”

You nod, “For a little bit.”

He winks, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I'm glad, It won’t be a party without you.”

You both jump as Sirius interrupts our conversation, “I’m coming to the party too, Padfoot. Are you just so so happy I’m coming? Will it make the party a million times better?” he pouts, doe eyes aimed at James and you snort.

James groans, pushing him away playfully. “Fuck off.”

He grins, moving so he’s in front of us, walking backwards, “I see who your favourite is. It’ll never be me, will it?” He sighs sadly, lips turning down into a pout.

“She is my favourite,” James mutters, smiling cheekily at me and my cheeks flush.

✰✰✰

The party is in full swing by the time you make it to the common room and everyone cheers when James enters. You grin, moving to give James the spotlight but he grips your hand tightly, ensuring you don’t leave his side. 

With a flush, you grab a random bottle of alcohol, pour it into a cup and practically chug it down, relishing in the buzz it gives you. 

“You planning on getting drunk?” James asks, amusement shining in his eyes when you pour yourself another drink. “Merlin, yes,” You laugh. He rolls his eyes, hands reaching up to pull the cup from your nimble hands. 

Before you have time to glare, he refills it and takes a small sip before handing it back to you. 

You grin, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the crowd. He gets swept away, conversing with people about the game. You find Lily and Alice to talk to for a bit, downing your drink and finding another. 

By the time James returns to your side from where you’re standing by yourself in the corner, eying the crowd, you’re more than tipsy, on the way to drunk. 

“You look so pretty,” James mutters in your ear, causing you to grin. “You’re also pretty.” His cheeks flush a deep red, suddenly shy. “Thank you, love.”

You take a sip from your fifth drink of the night, “You’re also hot.” You don’t flush or show an ounce of shame, the alcohol giving you confidence.

He grins through red cheeks, “Yeah?” You nod. “You’re also hot.” His hands land on your waist, pulling you into him. You shake your head, “I’m pretty. Don’t know about hot though.”

James shakes his head immediately. “No, Love. You’re so hot. You make my knees weak every time I see you. Do you know how hard it is to control myself when you walk in, drop-dead gorgeous and looking so fine? Trust me, you’re hot.”

You sober slightly at his words, moving your hands up to link behind his neck. Your palms stick with sweat, legs turn to mush beneath you. “Yeah?” He just nods in response, eyes tracking your face, trying to gauge your reaction. 

Without thinking about the consequences, you pull him in. 

He responds immediately, lips meeting yours with an urgency, his hands gripping your hips tight. His hair in your fingers, you pull him harder against you, growing dizzy at his groan. He deepens the kiss, devouring you completely. 

The lack of oxygen forces you apart, lips wet and swollen. James doesn’t go far, his forehead falling against yours. You suddenly grow nervous, looking down at your bodies, pressed against each other. “I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head immediately, placing a kiss on your nose as his hands rub soothing circles from where they now rest on your waist. “You can kiss me anytime, anywhere. No need to ask.”

You grow hopeful, eyes lighting up, “Does that mean you like me too?” The room is crowded but the way James is staring at you makes you feel like the only person in the world, the crowd droned out by the happiness and love reflecting in his eyes. 

“Honey, I love you,” He states sincerely, nothing but honesty painting his features. Your mouth stretches into a wide smile, heart flipping in giddy, “I love you too, James.”

“Thank the heavens above,” He mutters playfully and you laugh loudly, fingers fisting his shirt.

 ✰✰✰

The great hall is obnoxiously loud, the early morning light shining through the pristine windows making you squint, a frown pulling at your lips. The pounding in your head is hard to ignore and painful enough to make you regret drinking so much last night. 

But James is sitting next to you, his large hand in yours under the table while his thigh presses against your own. The subtle touches warm you over, an unmistakable flush crawling up your neck. “You look so cute,” James whispers into your ear, his soft eyes, filled with admiration inspecting your face. 

You smile wildly. “Thank you, so do you.” His free hand drops the spoon he was holding and brushes a stray strand of hair from my face. He leans closer, hand cradling my jaw gently. A loud clearing of the throat from across the table has us looking away, your eyes narrowing at the confused looks on Sirius and Remus’ faces. 

Sirius his confusion off with a grin, twisting his body so he’s facing Remus, hands moving dramatically in front of him. “Remus! Please, let me call you cute and almost kiss you!”

Remus turns to face him, one of his scarred hands cradling his jaw with a mischievous grin. “Of course! But I’m going to be oblivious while my friends grow sick of our pining.”

“You know we’re together…Right?”

Their wide eyes whip around to face us, jaws to the floor. Remus’ hands are still on Sirius’ jaw as he mutters in shock, “What?”

[duskiers]

Distracted by You

> Percy Jackson / reader

> you try to share an ancient tale with Percy, but he's too distracted by his admiration for you to pay attention to the story.

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🌳︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

The evening had settled around Camp Half-Blood with a serene quietness, the kind that invited stories and whispered secrets beneath the twinkling stars. You and Percy had found yourselves alone, seated on the soft grass near the edge of the lake, the calm waters reflecting the moon's silvery glow. It was the perfect moment to share a story, one of those ancient tales that your mother used to tell you, filled with adventure, magic, and the wisdom of the gods.

As you began the tale, you couldn't help but notice Percy's gaze on you. It was intense, but not in the way you'd expect from someone engrossed in a story. No, his eyes seemed to be focused on you, taking in every detail of your face, your expressions, the way your hands moved as you spoke.

At first, you thought he was just deeply interested in the tale, hanging on to every word. But as the story progressed, you realized Percy hadn't reacted at all to the twists and turns of your narrative. Not even the dramatic moments, which usually elicited some response, seemed to register with him.

"Percy?" you paused, a smile tugging at your lips. "Are you even listening?"

He blinked, as if being pulled out of a trance, his sea-green eyes sparkling with something unspoken. "Uh, yeah, of course, I am" he stumbled over his words, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "You were talking about... um, the quest, right?"

You laughed, a light, melodious sound that seemed to make him even more entranced. "Percy, it's okay. You haven't heard a word, have you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's just... you're... well, you're really interesting to listen to. And to look at." There was an earnestness in his voice, a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"I'm more interesting to look at than the story of Hercules and the Golden Apples?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Percy's voice trailed off, and then he chuckled. "Okay, maybe I was a bit distracted. But can you blame me? You're... you're amazing, and when you're telling a story, there's this passion in your eyes, this... beauty."

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his words. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus, was sitting here with you, completely captivated not by the tales of heroes and gods but by you. It was a thought that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Percy. That means a lot coming from you" you said, your voice soft. "But maybe I can find a better way to capture your attention with my stories next time?"

Percy moved closer, his gaze locked with yours, and in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. "I think I'd like that" he said. "But for now, just talking to you is enough of a story for me."

[r0ttenhearts]

can I request a charac using reader who has a crush on them for their own benefits. while reader is left to wonder why chrc acts like a stranger to reader in public. eventually confronting chrc and them brushing it off as not noticing, being too busy. until reader eavesdropped to a convo with chrc's friend abt chrc just using reader. and reader leaves and ignores chrc for a while and chrc slowly starts missing reader's presence, only to see reader with someone else and confronting reader about it. of course charac won't get the happy ending 😈

(preferably scara, or childe-- if u write for him.)

feel free to ignore, I think I haven't expressed my req properly 😭😭.

also can I be 🌧️ anon ? :>

thanks 🌧️ anon for the request ^^ i hope you enjoy!

not your pet, anymore

scaramouche x reader

warnings: angst, arguments, insults, suggestive mentions

“you love me, right?”

“of course i do, scara. you mean so much to me.” you whispered, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against you. his thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hand on his chest as he lay against you.

the biting cold of fall couldn’t compare to the warmth you two shared, huddled together like this. his cheeks still tinted pink from the cold air, hands cold to the touch, it was just the way you liked him to be. cold enough for him to want to sit close to you and warm up.

touches were not a regular occurrence for scaramouche, he was normally dismissive, claiming he hated the closeness of skin on skin contact. but that wasn’t said when he’d tug at the end of your sweater, asking if he could feel more of your warmth. soft pants escaping your lips, his cold hands wandering, bodies on the cold floor of his bedroom. that’s how you’d spend your days after school.

but this time, with your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you finished up some of scaramouche’s homework he had passed on to you, something felt different. he was glued to his phone, an unusual smile gracing his lips as his thumbs danced across the device. you frowned, putting down your pen as you watched his face pull up in expressions you had rarely seen.

“who’re you talking to scara?”

“none of your business, (y/n).” he snapped, the smile he had been wearing for a few minutes dropping as his head snapped up to look at you. he sighed dramatically, getting up from the floor as he placed his phone down next to your hand, his face inches away from you.

“so damn nosy (y/n), when you should be doing my essay. are you bored? should i give you more work? or maybe i should let you suck me off, put your mouth to use. i think i like you better when you’re stuffing me in than anything you’ve ever said, anyway.” he sneered, enjoying the silence from you. a slight movement from you caused annoyance to bubbled up inside of him, his face unable to hide that itching feeling.

“you know, if you weren’t like this i’d be nicer to you, hell, maybe i’d love you. fat chance of that happening, i hate you most of the time. the only time i like your mouth open is when you’re making those pretty sounds for me, anything else is just muck.

why’re you so quiet, huh? are you gonna run off to your friends again? tell them how horrible i am? you think someone like collei will bother with you after you tell her what you do in here with me? how you open yourself to me? after swearing to her you’re done with me? you’re fucking something, (y/n). honestly, i’m getting sick of you. can you get the fuck out now?”

scaramouche’s phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a new text message. the both of you glance to it at the same time before he snatches it up, typing away a response as you gather your things without a word. biting your tongue was easier said then done, but you knew the argument would be worse if you said anything to him at all.

with a gentle click of scaramouche’s door, hours had gone by since you made your way home. a warm shower to rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach, along with the stickiness scaramouche had left you. you weren’t enjoying this, not one bit.

you figured you’d talk to him tomorrow in class, apologize for your inconveniences to him, and have it return to how it usually was after a fight. if you could call it one.

what you didn’t expect was to see scaramouche sitting by the green haired girl, haypasia, his usual seat empty as they sat side by side. quietly setting your things down, you still thought to say good morning to him, as a sign of peace.

standing from your seat, you meekly stood in front of him, hands wringing in front of you nervously. “good morning scara, and haypasia, i was wondering if—“

scaramouche never looked at you the whole time you were standing in front of him, his eyes glued on haypasia as her eyes bore into yours. a bitter smirk on haypasia’s face as she waved you off, scaramouche rolling his eyes before continuing whatever conversation they were having before you interrupted him.

a pain started to form in your chest. that nauseating prick that you’d feel every time you knew scaramouche was fooling around with other girls. cold sweat was all you felt as class droned on, your eyes never leaving the back of scaramouche’s head as his hand would slip underneath haypasia’s desk, sliding her pieces of paper that she would giggle at or turn red to after reading.

why is he being like this? should you have said something yesterday? would the satisfaction of knowing he practically owned you satisfy him enough to not be like this? these thoughts ran through your head until it was time for lunch, that bell being something of a savior as you were freed from seeing him there with her.

childe’s loud laughs caught your attention as he stood with kazuha, an anxious look on the white haired boys face as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. “i mean, just look at her! everyone knows scara is just using her. i heard, he’s been sleeping with (y/n) so he’s good enough to do it with that other girl, whatever her name is. you know her, right kazuha? whatdya think? did you get a piece of her yet too? or is it just scara sinking his claws in her, and something else!”

kazuha’s nervous laugh as childe punched his arm spoke volumes as you stood up, clutching the strap of your bag. kazuha noticed the tears in your eyes as you ran out of the classroom, you had heard every word that came out of childe’s mouth. excusing himself, he ran after you, his soft taps of his feet on the floor in comparison to your loud, cluttered footsteps.

scaramouche heard about this from childe, his demeanor changing once childe gave him the details on how kazuha ran after you. he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. no one else should be acknowledging his pet, the one that was so compliant and listened to everything he asked of you.

that’s how he saw you, and that’s all you were to him. right? that egging feeling in his chest as his messages to you were now left on seen more often than not. your cat keychain you hung on your bag that “reminded you of him” being replaced by a charm of a maple leaf, the same one kazuha had on his bag.

it bothered him. and he didn’t try to hide it. every time you’d sit next to kazuha instead of him, he’d grumble under his breath. a part of him ached to see you bare on his bedroom floor again, your fingers running through his hair, your gentle kisses on his forehead when you’d put him to bed when he was in a foul mood. he actually missed you.

but why were you so distant now? surely kazuha wasn’t giving you something he wasn’t, right? he couldn’t. you’d always declared your loyalty to scaramouche, never once breaking it.

then why did you admit you were in love with kazuha? your hands together in front of scaramouche as he scoffs, taking you by the wrist the second those words left your mouth.

“come again? i think i misheard you (y/n). you said you were in love with me just last month. so how do you even think you have feelings for that poet?” his voice wavered, eyes scanning across your face for a sign, a hint of remorse or love that you once held for him.

you shake your head, taking your hand away from scaramouche’s grip but he tightens it anyway. his eyes bore into yours, begging, pleading for it not to be true. for you to laugh it off and say you were kidding.

“he’s.. kind. it’s unlike something i’ve had before, and.. it feels good. it feels good to be wanted, scara. something i never felt with you.”

“something i never felt with you”, those words rung in his head as he laughs loudly, fat tears spilling as he pulls you into his chest. your hands going to push him away as he holds you tightly, laughing through his tears.

“you promised me (y/n), you promised you’d stay. you said you’d stay with me forever, love me forever! please don’t be like them, please don’t let that be a lie.”

“let me go, scara. please.” you whispered, feeling him shake his head as his hands tighten around you.

“n-no, no.. i can’t lose you too. archons, i can’t. what did childe say (y/n)? i promise he didn’t mean it, whatever he said isn’t true! i swear.. let’s just, go back to how it used to be, yeah? you can come over like you used to and- and we just don’t have to have sex. we can do things you like! i swear.. so please..”

his tears had rolled down, coating your neck as he wept. you’d never seen him in such a desperate state. his eyes looking into yours for a hint of what used to be there for him, but there wasn’t. more tears rolled down his cheeks as he let you go. he had fucked up. again. and this time he lost you, the one thing he never thought he’d lose.

“i’m sorry, scara. i’ve moved on. i think you have too with haypasia, you’ll be okay.” you say before picking up your bag, leaving him standing there with a wreck of feelings in his chest.

“you’re just like the rest.” he spat under his breath, harshly wiping at his eyes as the tears continued to flow. a hateful sentence meant to comfort no one but himself. he knew you weren’t at fault for it, he knew one day you’d want something more of him, something he’d be reluctant to give you. the day you finally escaped the clutches of the toxic relationship he had given you, the same day he had deemed the end of his new beginning.

“i never got my forever with you, like you promised. i can’t apologize for hating you for it.”

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @kaoriee @samarill

[yxngbxkkie]

little date at the shop (b.c)

y'know, depending on what happens, i might do little blurbs on mechanic!chris 🫢 i never thought i'd like it this much 🤭 i do hope you guys enjoy this cute fic! let me know what you think 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Do you think he'd like it if I brought him food?” You ask Hyunjin, pinning your phone against your shoulder.

Your friend on the line scoffs, and you can see him rolling his eyes. “I'm sure he would, yes,” Hyunjin answers. “He's always liked that kind of stuff.”

A smile graces your lips. “Okay, I'm going to bring him lunch then,” you giggle, putting the phone on speaker before looking at your delivery app.

“If I knew you are going to act like this, I never would've introduced you,” he says with a laugh, mumbling to himself about how Chris is all you talk about.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” You dramatically apologize, halting your search for food to give him your attention.

Hyunjin sighs, taking a minute before he speaks again. “No, it's okay. I shouldn't be complaining. I haven't seen you this happy about someone since the last guy. I'm just really glad you found a good one,” he explains, causing your lips to pout.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, Hyune. I couldn't ask for a better friend,” you tell him, tracing random shapes on your table.

“I better be your best man at the wedding,” he jokes, bringing the mood back up.

You let out a cackle, and you tip your head back. “You'd have to take that up with Chris,” you remind him while shaking your head.

“Oh don't you worry, I'll be sure he knows!” He chuckles. “I have to go. If you see him, tell him I said hi.”

You agree to his request before you bid him goodbye. You hang up the phone and go back to your delivery app. You remember him mentioning that he loves sushi, so that's what you'll order.

After waiting for twenty minutes for the food to arrive, you quickly hop into your vehicle. You gently set the delivery bag onto your passenger seat, buckling up before backing out of your driveway.

During the drive towards Five-Star Auto, you couldn't help but begin to feel nervous. You and Chris have been on four dates since the day Hyuintro “introduced” you. In your perspective, everything's going well. You're just slightly confused as to why he hasn't made things official yet.

You bite your lip, zoning out at the stoplight as you recall him saying he doesn't have time for relationships. Does he even want one? Is that why he hasn't kissed you again? A million questions run through your head, making you panic a little.

“Maybe he's being respectful,” you mumble to yourself, pressing down on the gas as soon as the light turns green.

You pull into the parking lot of the garage, noticing his vehicle being the only one. You park next to him and shut your vehicle off. A deep breath comes from your lips, trying to calm yourself down before heading inside.

“He'd tell me if he doesn't want to see me anymore,” you say to yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You grab the food beside you and exit the vehicle. After locking it, you shove your keys into your hoodie pocket. You peek through the open door of the garage, looking for Chris.

“Are you looking for me?” A voice whispers into your ear, causing you to jump. You almost drop the food, miraculously managing to catch it while turning around.

Chris chuckles, his hands resting behind his back. “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you,” he apologizes, bringing a hand to your arm and gently strokes it.

“How are you so quiet?” You ask him in disbelief, pressing your free hand against your chest. “Every time I see you, you're sneaking up on me.”

“I wouldn't say I'm sneaky,” he mentions, leading you into the place. “I think you're just really bad at noticing your surroundings.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “Okay, you got me there,” you groan, tapping your fingers against the bag you're holding. “It's your lunch time, right?”

“It is,” Chris beams, his eyes looking down at your full hands. “Did you bring me lunch?”

“I, I bought us lunch,” you clarify, feeling yourself heating up in embarrassment. “That is if you wanna have lunch with me.”

The grin on his lips widens, and you watch him shake his head. Your fingers grip the bag in your hands, thinking he's going to reject the idea. A gasp leaves your lips when you feel his lips kiss your forehead.

“Of course I want to have lunch with you,” he reassures you, grabbing your free hand before walking into his office.

You sit down in front of his desk, pulling the chair closer so you don't make a mess. You can feel his eyes on you as you untie the plastic bag. “I didn't know what you liked exactly, so I took a guess,” you tell him with flushed cheeks.

You pull the trays of sushi out, setting them in the middle of you both. “Oh, I actually love this one,” Chris points to your favorite, making your heart flutter.

He reaches into the bag, grabbing the two packets of chopsticks. He opens both of them as you uncover the sushi you bought. Chris holds out a pair to you with a smile.

“Thank yo–” you cut yourself off when Chris moves the utensils out of reach. Your eyes meet his, noticing the admiration in them.

“I'm really glad you stopped by,” he says softly, gently placing the chopsticks in your hand. “And thank you for the food.”

Your heart starts to pound against your chest, the tension between you two thickening. “Of course. I… You make me really happy,” you mention loud enough for him to hear, directing your gaze to the sushi.

Chris stands up from his chair before taking two steps towards you. His index finger hooks beneath your chin, lifting your head slowly. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans forward.

“You make me happy too,” he whispers, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of his fingers.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask quietly, your eyes roaming his entire face. Chris nods his head, crouching a bit so you're eye level. You set down the pair of chopsticks before laying your hand over his. “Are you planning to ask me to be yours?”

His eyes widen at your question, and you notice the tips of his ears start to turn red. “I–” Chris pauses, looking down for a few seconds before returning his gaze to you. “I planned on it, yeah. I was just trying to find the right time.”

“Now is fine,” you giggle shyly, removing his hand from your face so you can play with the tips of his fingers.

“It's not too fast?” He asks, furrowing his brow.

You shake your head, confused as to why he would think that. He laces his fingers with yours before kissing the back of your hand.

“I talked to Hyunjin about your ex. He mentioned that he liked to move fast with you and that it made you uncomfortable. So, I was taking things slow until you were ready,” he explains with a sigh.

Oh, I think I'm in love. You think to yourself, bringing your free hand to his cheek. “You are so sweet,” you whisper, closing the space between you.

Chris releases a breathy moan as your lips collide with his. He hasn't kissed you since the night you met, and the feeling he got then is still the same.

You pull away from him before he can deepen it, earning a whine from him. You smile and tap his cheek lovingly. “So, Christopher, can I be yours?” You ask him, planting a couple more kisses on his lips.

“You already are,” he breathes out, pursing his lips during one of your quick kisses.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @turtledove824

[prythianpages]

Ohhhh would you ever write more about the witch reader x az. I loved it! I want to see feyres reaction :)

I might! I think I'd be open to making it like a series/au bc witch reader x Az makes me so soft 🥰 and I'm currently obsessed with the song that inspired it bc the song is so beautiful and whimsical and makes me wish I could experience a love like that

if you haven't read the original imagine, you can find it here.

here is a small drabble of feyre's reaction 😊 :

When you and Azriel return to the river house, Feyre is in the sitting room. She's lightly bouncing an agitated Nyx, who teethes at a cool wash cloth. "I know, baby," she coos at the infant.

Her blue-gray eyes are on you as soon as you enter and they light up when she notices Azriel's hands are ungloved and one of them is holding on to yours, fingers intertwined with another.

"How was the trip?" She asks, her lips curling up into a knowing smile.

"It was fine."

"She almost cursed Eris."

You're turning to Azriel with a playful glare and his wings twitch in response, his usual stoic demeanor now much lighter and Feyre knows it's all because of you. "It could've been a nice little hex that'd make his eyebrows fall off, you know. Just something to get him off his high horse."

Feyre laughs at the image that comes to mind. "I hope Eris didn't give you much trouble?"

"He shot an arrow through Azriel's hand."

"No."

You and Azriel exchange another look, missing the way Feyre's eyes grew distant for a brief moment.

**

They're holding hands! Feyre nearly screams into Rhysand's mind and he can feel all her excitement and joy through the bond.

He's sitting outside by one of the tables in their garden with Cassian and Mor on either side of him. If it were up to him, he'd be inside by his wife. But it was her who had kicked him outside, not wanting to overwhelm Azriel and you. "Out you busybodies!" She had exclaimed as she ushered them all out of the house.

"Hey, Cas," he grins. "You owe me twenty coins."

Cassian nearly spits out his lemonade. "What?" He sputters with wide eyes. Mor leans forward in her seat.

Rhysand then shows them the image Feyre had send him. It's of you and Azriel bickering and fussing over one another like an old married couple.

"Let's just call it even." Cassian insists, setting his cup down. "I am the one who got rid of all the dandelion root from her apothecary shop."

"Hey! Don't take all the credit. I am the one who kept her distracted!" Mor cuts in, dramatically throwing her hands in the air. "And also the one who kept Azriel from suspecting anything when Feyre had asked for an escort. Do you know how hard it is to sneak things around those two?"

"Thank you, Mor. Your hard work is much appreciated here," Rhysand says, his grin growing wider as he rises from his seat, knowing it'd only irritate Cassian further.

He catches the glare Cassian sends his way. "20 coins," Rhysand reminds him, holding his hand out expectantly.

"In a way," Cassian begins, not wanting to accept his loss. "I helped you win the bet!"

"That's not my problem." Rhysand replies with a smug shrug.

Cassian grumbles and digs into his pocket. He throws all twenty coins at Rhysand's face, who easily intercepts them with a wave of his hand. They fall gracefully into the palm of his hand instead.

Mor laughs as she also rises from her seat. Twenty coins is nothing to them. It's barely enough to buy a cheap bottle of wine.

Cassian follows shortly after, the three of them scurrying inside and wanting to catch a glimpse of you and Azriel holding hands in person. Although, they find you nestled on the couch with baby Nyx in your lap. You rub the elixir you had made earlier over Nyx's gums, smiling when you feel the babe relax in your arms, as you tell Feyre all about your venture earlier.

Azriel is seated on the armest of the couch right next to you, cutting into your story when he deems necessary. Everyone takes note of the way his hand is resting on the small of your back and one of his wings instinctively curls around your smaller form. They also take note of the lingering scent of your bond in the air, stronger now that you both have acknowledged the bond. Cedar and lavender.

**

a/n: I considered the whole Nyx being in pain to be a lie, a glamor made by Feyre to trick reader into having to go scavenge for dandelion root but decided it was better to just have Cassian and Mor be sneaky instead :)

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[yeeterthek33per]

Meet you maybe never (Pernille Harder x Magdalena Eriksson x Reader)

A/n Sort of requested. This one's been in the to be done pile for a while, and I wasn't entirely sure about it, but I knew I wanted to write it. Hardersson need more love, and I will go to the grave saying this.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, mild angst (really have to squint bc honestly), Artist R.

Part one in a new series of mine. Let me know how I went, guys.

Pernille's sigh of exhaustion holds a familiar weight in Magdalena's mind.

One that she shares greatly, considering she also shares the exact reason for it.

Moving is a pain in the ass.

However many boxes they'd carried up the stairs to their new shared Munich apartment remains to be seen, given that she didn't remember packing this many boxes.

The place has certainly been well maintained, and everything feels brand new too, so they were both very happy with the turnout.

In saying that, unpacking is going to be a nightmare.

Sure, it was a spacious place, and they have several other rooms to work with, but now with boxes in place, their concerns lie with furniture, only being left with a bare mattress and two camp chairs until they could get around to going furniture shopping.

Looking over from her position leant back against the wall, having set down the final box in the living room, she spots her girlfriend lying flat on her back on the cool floorboards, arm draped over her face dramatically.

An amused smile crosses her lips, and she chuckles, moving to sit cross-legged next to the blonde on the floor, hand patting her stomach.

"All good, Love?"

Pernille hums softly, although given the grimace on her face, it's more like a groan than anything.

"Perfect. Just perfect."

Magda holds back a laugh, letting her hand fall to rest on her girlfriend's arm, caressing the skin above where it had fallen to rest over her eyes.

"We'll get there, Love. It's not like you haven't done it before."

"And every single time, I'm reminded how painfully exhausting it is."

The defender simply chuckles, nodding her head as her hand migrates to the woman's hair, gently carding her fingers through the light blonde tresses.

Humming softly, she shifts to lay her head in the younger woman's lap, looking up at her with a small affectionate smile that's returned with a loving look in the swede's eyes.

"Hi."

She playfully taps the defender on the nose.

"Hi."

There's a soft giggle from the light blonde.

"Love you."

Magda's small smile turns into a bigger one as she moves her hand to cradle her face.

"Love you, too."

Maybe moving to Munich isn't all that bad.

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

"Magda, come look at this."

"One second love, this dining set would go pretty well with-"

She looks around her when she notices isn't beside her.

"Babe?"

She calls out.

"Come look."

She wanders over to where Pernille is pointing, a wall across the street visible through the furniture store's windows.

It's painted in varying stages of forest greens, baby blues, and over the top is a beautiful landscape of what they assume to be the German countryside.

A little cottage on a hill, in front of a rising morning sun, brilliant oranges, and reds contrasting the background greens and blues.

"That's gorgeous, we should go have a look later."

"Let's go look now."

"But we have to-"

Pernille's already out the door before Magda can stop her, leaving the swede to sigh softly and walk back out the door after her excited girlfriend.

The painting up close is intricate with little design details that you wouldn't find unless you looked up super close.

Little details, like the bricks on the little cottage, aren't actually solid bricks but aligned words like quiet, peace and home.

The sun is made up of faintly written words of bright, future, and Pernille tells Magda, the German word for Happiness.

It's feels so planned out and thought out, they spend a long time looking over each detail, feeling every line and ridge of paint on the wall.

A local actually stops to tell them about it when they ask.

It'd been there for a couple years, having no idea who'd painted it. It just appeared one day.

They decide they love the piece, snapping a photo of it to show to family and friends for later.

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

"Shit."

You barely feel the wall against your back in the cold.

Winter in Germany is not a fun time to be outside, and yet your stupid bored brain decided it needed to scratch an itch right now.

Waiting to be pick the perfect blank canvas, you had to duck behind a bricked off area while wearing your mask.

It covers most of your face bar a small gap for your eyes.

You hadn't exactly been subtle before and you'd already been photographed wearing it.

The last thing you needed right now was the press up your ass, or worse, the police.

Unfortunately, no matter where you are in the world, paparazzi are terrifyingly aggressive.

Quickly slipping away over another wall, you hop over a bin and find a blank, almost white wall, perfect height and size.

Assessing it for a second and checking for anu nearby vantage points that people could see you in and finding none in the low rise area.

You quickly drop your backpack, rifling through the old thing for your spray caps, and move to get to work.

It had come to you earlier and had been what had initially started the itch, said itch having been in the middle of a work meeting that you could not wait to get out of.

There would always be satisfaction in the way the lines matched up and swirled around others.

This time, though, it wasn't just a colourful background to look at.

You wanted to leave something on top of it, and you knew this one would take time.

Thankfully, you knew this area of buildings was mostly abandoned due to high levels of restructuring, so getting caught by locals wasn't an issue.

It was the occasional roaming tourist that gave you worry.

Pulling out a piece of charcoal, you use it to sketch out the baselines, not wanting to get ahead of yourself again, like you had last time when you spent far too long changing little mistakes made by using black paint first, leading to your biggest issue in the first place.

A public image to the mysterious artist of Munich.

Not something you need right now.

Sighing, you roll your head side to side, eyeing up the now line drawing in front of you

It looks pretty good.

It seems frustration helps you work better.

Unlike quite a few of the lackeys you know at work.

You roll your eyes at that.

Popping your achingly cold knuckles, you admire the lines for a moment longer.

This is one you want people to see, like many of your others, only more important.

It was a big thing for you, and you knew it would finally do something for the right people.

Now, just to fill it in and get the hell out of there.

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

Magdalena and Pernille get a welcoming party with the team.

The captain, Glódís, introduces herself to the pair.

They immediately find the woman incredibly welcoming from the get-go, a warm smile to pair with the kind words and introductions to the staff at the party.

"And finally, you've met him already, but, our beloved man in charge, Alex Straus."

Alex shakes both of their hands.

"Lovely seeing you ladies again, even if it's only been a couple of hours."

He pauses to chuckle softly and then gestures around him.

"I can only hope you're settling in well. The girls are eager to get started on the season with you both."

The nod from the Icelander confirms that with a small chuckle, herself, the lot of them pestering her about the team's newest signings, having to remain tight-lipped until they could meet them in person tonight.

She gestures over to the not-so-subtly excitedly waiting group of women in the room.

"Better go introduce yourselves. Otherwise, I fear they might have my head for hogging you both."

The couple giggle softly at that.

Pernille's the first to settle with the girls.

Having spent four years with Wolfsburg made it so she had to learn German if she wanted to keep up with the banter, so she's into the mix of things quite quickly.

Particularly with the international players who all find immediate common ground with someone who they've played against many times over the years, especially after the most recent World Cup.

Georgia tucks the Dane under her arm, officially claiming her already, and latches onto Magda not soon after, both of them attaching to the Englishwoman right away.

"Finally, after who knows how long of losing to these two at City, I get my transfer here and the find the next season, the ol' captain and striker who gave me so much strife playing against Chelsea, followed me here."

There's so good-natured ribbing, and Georgia pokes Magda in the ribs in particular.

"What, can't take a little Chelsea blue, Gee?"

Magda pushes back of course, competitive as she is.

"Pft, you and I both know Manchester Blue is the best blue."

The swede scoffs.

"You wish, Stanway."

"Nah, it's just facts, Eriksson."

The rest of the group giggles, knowing this fast friendship was going to be an entertaining one.

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

It seems it doesn't take long.

News of the artwork in Munich spreads like wildfire, catching the attention of your bosses almost immediately.

There was no way they would allow the media team to share this, considering the illegal nature of the piece, but they weren't displeased with it's sudden appearance, nor the traction it's gaining either.

It's a big thing for them.

It means more attention on the club, and it means more support from people because of how much they love the artwork.

That was an ego boost and a half.

Now, as you stare at the image on the projector board, you start doing what you always do and pick apart the piece.

Somethings not quite right with it, you think.

"Ms L/n, what do you think of this new development?"

Trying to appear as though you were paying attention, you look around at the other board members around you.

"I think it's the perfect opportunity for our latest news to gain attention. It certainly won't hurt that those players will gain attention, too."

Pausing to think for a moment before adding.

"Of course, there is always the risk of bad attention, especially from the press, but we can deal with that like we always do."

Another pause for a moment.

You glance over to the projector with the photo of the mural, rubbing your jawline softly, noting that something just felt off about the piece all of a sudden.

The eyes aren't right, there's not enough curve to the jaw.

You can't figure it out yet.

The itch returns for a moment before you continue, avoiding starting up too much on the itch.

"And with the good press, the club will gain more support from fans who will follow the players here, too. We should try and boost the promotion while we're at it. I'm aware the media team is doing the usual, but let's get in on the waves these two seem to be making while we're at it. Does anyone have any ideas?"

A woman further down the table pipes up.

"We can set up for some get to the know the players videos, have some meet and greets, send some of the veteran players with them over to a couple different plazas?"

A soft nod from you in agreement.

"Sounds good. We can let the media team handle the rest. Please. Stephen. Continue."

He nods before flipping to the next item on the agenda.

"Thank you, Director."

Nodding at the man, you turn back to your papers, scribbling small notations every so often, once again.

It seems the board aren't against it.

Good.

For now, you'd just have to encourage the publicity of the piece.

Not yourself.

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

With training beginning within a couple of days of moving to Germany, it doesn't take long for whispers of the piece to make it to the gossip in the changing room.

Magda and Pernille don't realise what it's about until they ask what all the fuss is.

Some of the younger girls had been fawning over a photo taken from a distance, the piece lit up perfectly under the early setting winter sun.

Catching the sight of it over the shoulder of one of them, they ask about the name attached to it.

Scrawled in the caption, something catches Pernille's eye, having some knowledge of written German.

'Straßengänger'

Streetwalker.

"Who's that?"

She directs the question towards the younger Dutch girl on the team, Jill Baijings.

"Eh, a popular street artist, though they aren't really known aside from the name. Their stuff is really good, though."

She holds the phone closer to the women.

"Have you seen this yet?"

Pernille looks closer at the image, brows raising in surprise, with a soft muttered 'oh'.

The red, blue and baby blue, apparently FC Bayern themed background, made the highly realistic greyscale portraits pop nicely.

It was a promotional image for them.

As in Magdalena and Pernille.

Words scribbled under the image read,

"Welcome to Munich, Magda and Pernille!"

The image itself is beautiful.

It's an image of their faces in what is most likely both stages of goal celebration, screaming with victory, eyes crinkled and wide smiles, paired together over the gorgeous pattern, highlighting it perfectly.

It almost doesn't look real in the photo. But it's still very awe-inspiring to see.

Fans always have the most talent when it came to art like that, and it never ceases to amaze them.

Magda peers over her shoulder beside her, letting her appreciation for the art be known with a low whistle.

"Honestly, you guys will have to see it in person, though. it's so much better when you can get up close to it. All of their artworks always are."

"What did you say the name was, again?"

"Straßengänger."

"What does that mean?"

It comes from Magda.

"Streetwalker. We don't actually know where the name came from, whether it was the artist themself or the locals but either way."

They both nod, humming thoughtfully.

Maybe they would have to check it out.

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

You know coming back is a bad idea, but you love the piece too much to not come back to it, knowing it would irk you to not get a better stance on anything that might need fixing, despite your best efforts to ignore the itch.

Of course, this time, without the mask on because that be even stupider.

Going back to the scene of the crime wearing exactly the attire that would incriminate you.

Standing back from a distance, you snap a photo under the settling sun in the cooling weather.

Something catches your attention off to the left, a pair walking down the sidewalk, well, more strolling slowly then anything.

Linked arm in arm and bundled far less than a lot of people would be for winter weather, they're wearing coats but braving the cold with thin material pants and shoes.

It's not that that catches your attention, though.

It's more your unabashedly gay side that notices them.

It seems you've caught the attention of your art's subjects.

Because here they are, noticing it finally, standing back admiring your work of them.

You quietly step away, but still close enough to hear the soft murmuring of them, being the only people on the street at this dying hour, you can hear them amongst the small breeze passing over the road.

They're definitely speaking Swedish because you can't make out what they're saying, only understanding the familiar lilt and tone of surprise in their words.

"Det är vackert."

"Varför oss?"

"Jag vet inte men det är fantastiskt."

You're about to walk away when Pernille walks closer to it, running her hand over the dried paint, her eyes moving over the piece slowly.

You notice she's tracing the underlying wording, realising she must have seen your art before to notice it that quickly.

As you keep a subtle eye on her, she's standing in the fading rays of sunlight, giving her a soft golden glow.

Her girlfriend moves to wrap her arms around her and it's then you see both of them a little differently to before you'd seen them in person.

They're absolutely beautiful, together and individually, and you realise you haven't captured that properly with your latest work.

It gives you another itch.

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

"You know, we have to meet this person."

Magdalena hums softly in agreement, hands running over Pernille's shoulders, staring up at the wall, eyes tracing the lines, the shading and the shape work, particular over the little footballs making up the swirls on the O in Welcome.

Her hand moves to her pupils in the portrait, paying attention to the way they're made up of shining stars.

The same with Magda's portrait.

There's a soft shuffle from behind them, and Magda's head swivels to look up at the source for a moment.

You're standing there, looking down at your phone, a soft smile on your face as you tap away at it.

She'd seen you standing there earlier already, taking photos, so she doesn't pay you much mind in the end, and you turn and walk away, putting the phone to your ear.

Although, there is mild niggle of curiosity, she brushes it off.

You're probably just another tourist looking at the piece.

"Come on, we have to head back soon or we'll start freezing out here."

"Few more minutes, Magda... Where's all those Swedish genes gone huh?"

Pernille teases the taller woman, poking her in the cheek.

Magda rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah, real funny, babe."

Pernille chuckles, leaning back into the Swede.

She was right, though.

She had to find whoever did this.

The curiosity was getting to Magda, too.

Why them?

Of any of the influential people in Munich.

Or just any of the women's players.

Why them?

She has so many questions.

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

"And last but certainly not least, welcome to our newest signings, Magdalena and Pernille. Thank you for joining us and we hope you enjoy your stay here at FC Bayern."

The FC Bayern committee room erupts with a small applause from the players and board members before them who were all called in for a club wide meeting, even receiving a small whoop from Georgia in the back that makes the players around her either chuckle or roll their eyes at her.

"Now, handing off to our creative director."

"Danke, Herbert."

Stepping up onto the podium, the person immediately catches Magda's attention.

It's you.

The woman from the other day in town, at the wall.

There you are, climbing the steps up to the podium, black blazer jacket and blue jeans, half tucked with a white button up and a FC Bayern logo embroidered on the jacket pocket.

Pernille notices it, too.

"Now, I know this probably going to be the boring part but I'll try and keep it simple and just go over what our plan is for the next few months."

Looking out over the group, you keep your best public smile on.

"Don't worry, you don't have to remember any of this, as you'll be reminded as each one comes up so we don't miss anybody."

As you start to list off each of the latest marketing events and programs, your eyes shift over the players in their seats, despite the usually tired response at your while lilted, droning about the business side of things, you make eye contact with a very vigilant looking certain pair.

Your eyes crinkle mildly as you fight off too much of wide smile.

"There's a few meet and greets we want to go ahead with before the start of the season, including our newest signings, men and women, we'll send the details to those involved later."

You pause for a moment, eyeing up the latest of the new men and women in the crowd, placing back on the Scandi couple for a second before drifting and continuing.

"And, finally, we have an unfortunately mandatory promotional event on the third of October. It is also a black-tie event, so even me, who as many of you know already, shows up to everything wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, will have to dress up, please do the same. Thank you for listening everyone."

"Thank you, Director."

Taking a seat back with the crowd, it's almost like you can feel a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You don't turn to face them, though, already knowing exactly who it is.

After the meeting is adjourned, you stand and ready to leave back to your office when a body stands in front of you.

A familiar tall Swede.

"Hey, I don't believe we've met properly."

"I'm Y/n L/n, creative director here at FC Bayern München."

"Magdalena Eriksson, although you already know that, it seems."

You smile, nodding and extending a hand out to her.

She shakes with a warm but firm grip, leaving the skin tingling a little.

She really is much more beautiful in person.

"It's lovely meeting you, Magdalena-"

"Call me Magda, feels a bit much for a full name, now."

"Lovely meeting you, Magda."

Letting go of her hand, you bid her as polite a goodbye as you can give, knowing any longer and you'd gay panic yourself into a problem, you make your way towards the door.

As you shift through the small crowd of players, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement to those who do know you or have met you, you exit the room swiftly, heart mildly racing.

You'd seen the look of recognition in her eyes, not from knowing who you are at Bayern, but perhaps somewhere else.

You aren't risking it.

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

First and second training with the team went as smoothly as it could for any new team members.

However, their third is a little less cathartic.

Having to do extra medical assessments and fitness testing before being able to join the team, everything had been hurting that day.

They arrive home to their shared apartment almost completely worn down from the session.

At home, in their new apartment, finally furnished, for the most part, they both agree to get an early night's rest.

Annoyingly though, they can't seem to find it in them to sit still and toss and turn for the next hour or so, both of them in agreement they weren't sleeping right now.

They head out for another stroll through the quieter parts of the city, instead, taking a bus out there for the first ten minutes or so.

Hand in hand, they stroll down the quiet village-esque side of Munich, just breathing in the cool air, occasionally stopping to admire the rustic, olden style.

It's in the really silent part of town that they notice something.

The distinct sound of... a rattling can?

A spray can to be exact.

Pernille nods in the direction of a small alley, Magda initially shaking her head no, not sure if they should really confront someone who could be possibly dangerous or someone associated with the law.

Of course, the Dane sneaks over anyway to peek into the alley.

There, a figure stands with their back to them, hand wrapped around a baby blue can of spray paint.

The painting looks halfway done.

It's a portrait.

Of Pernille.

The woman's eyebrows just about fall off her face at the surprise and she turns back to her girlfriend who's waiting anxiously, looking about three seconds from dragging Pernille to the next taxi back to their apartment.

She gestures quietly to whisper to her over the cold wind howling through the gaps in the buildings.

"It's that artist."

"I figured, but we really shouldn't be associating with them. C'mon, we have to leave."

"Magda, c'mon, this is our chance to meet the person behind that mural."

A bit of back and forth before Pernille peeks her head around the corner to look, again.

This time, though, the person is bent down, rifling through their backpack, and a spray cap.

When Pernille turns back to a now very concerned Magda, she whispers in her ear.

"Just another minute. Just have a look at least."

The Swede very reluctantly agrees, looking for herself.

Concern is the first thing to pop into her mind.

This one is just of Pernille, accentuating the woman's eye colour and bright smile.

Is the artist, infatuated?

A million thoughts an hour as she watches the smooth, almost mesmerising way their hands trace lines and fill gaps.

When you pull out a paint marker to start with smaller details, she turns back to her girlfriend.

"Are they obsessed with us or something? This feels a little weird at this point."

Pernille frowns, almost shaking her head to disagree.

As the woman's about to answer, there's suddenly some shuffling, almost unnoticeable jingling of zippers and a body sat up on a short wall on the other side of the walkway, bag back on their shoulders once more.

"Actually, I'd say it's more an appreciation for a pair of legends in Munich."

They both startle heavily, Magda going into protective mode, arm around Pernille, pulling herself in front of the woman fully.

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

The pair of them peeking on you were about as subtle as a whistle among bells.

Figuring you'd have to finish it later, you pack up swiftly, ensuring your mask sits on your face correctly before sneaking out of the alleyway to sit up on a wall above them.

After a not-so-much needed scare, you raise your hands in a surrender gesture.

"I won't hurt you. I just figured I should say hello personally since you're both here and all."

Magda looks nervous, and you can see the curiosity in Pernille's eyes from where you're casually seated.

"Although, I do suggest not sticking around. It's going to be a PR nightmare for the three of us if you're seen with the Straßengänger."

You punctuate the nickname with air quotes.

As you're about to jump up to climb onto the rook and make a swift disappearance of yourself, you hear one of them yell out to you.

Hesitating, you turn back to the pair.

"Why us?"

Pernille's brilliant grey-blue eyes look up at you, a radiance of dying curiosity in them as she holds her girlfriend's hand to calm the woman.

You stop for a moment before shrugging.

"A pair of beautiful women in the biggest sport and uprising for women. Why not you?"

It's there Magda gets a unrecognisable look on her face and you decide to leave it there.

With that, you scramble up onto the building, annoyed with yourself for having dragged ALL of your gear with you and also for leaving a half finished work behind.

A day or so later.

Luckily for you, no one else seems to stumble upon your work just yet, and with much scouting and caution, you find yourself back in that alley finishing what you started.

Making sure to adjust the shine in the subject's eyes to fit exactly how they shone up at you the day previously.

This time, the representation of the Danish captain seemed far closer to the spectacle she is in real life.

You're pleased with yourself for this one.

And it's scratched half the itch you'd had days prior.

Now for the other half.

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

After their sudden meeting with the Straßengänger, Magda and Pernille are left with more questions than answers.

They both agree to just return home for the night, knowing it's a question for another day when they aren't in the middle of an already chaotic media storm.

After that, they get swept up in everything Bayern and put everything about the artist to the back of their minds.

Their first match is approaching fast and Alex already has Pernille in the starting lineup, so she gets distracted in preparation for that, finding herself busy studying the formation and technique of an entirely new team.

So much so, that she almost... almost forgets about the mural maker.

Although...

There's just one question that bugs Pernille constantly, despite her best efforts to focus fully on their new path in Germany.

Magdalena feels much the same.

"Who are you, really, Straßengänger?"

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

[keerysfreckles]

stay here - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (no movie spoilers bc i haven't seen it yet im just obsessed with mike) fluff! fluff! fluff! like one makeout scene but thats it

enjoy!

to say babysitting michael schmidt's little sister, abby, was easy would be a lie. mike called you earlier that day, right before his shift started, and asked if you could look over abby until he got home. at the end of the call he mentioned his hours were shorter, and earlier than normal, so he wouldn't be home too late.

it was currently eleven pm. abby's supposed to be in bed by ten-thirty, and nothing was working. y/n tried calming her down with a disney movie. she even colored with her in her makeshift fort in her room. but nothing worked, she was as hyper as ever.

"abby, please! we both know you're going to be tired tomorrow and you have school," y/n pleads.

"but i'm not tired," abby groans, rolling over dramatically on the couch.

"you know what? fine. i'll just tell mike you weren't listening to me," y/n sends abby an evil smile. abby perks up, and sits up to lean on the arm of the couch to look at y/n.

"no! no no no! he said if i was good all week he'd buy me something from the store."

y/n crosses her arms and leans against the hallway wall, opposite of the couch. "looks like you're going to have to listen to me afterall."

"but i'm still not tired," abby groans again, but walks over towards y/n.

y/n looked down at the girl in front of her. she saw the small bags under her eyes, and noticed her eyes kept closing every so often.

an idea popped into y/n's head, "why don't you go lay down, and i'll be in in ten minutes, yeah?"

abby nodded, confused by the request, but still nodded nonetheless and walked down the hallway and towards her room. y/n watched for a moment before abby was fully inside her room. she knew abby was most likely to fall asleep once her head hit the pillow. now she only had to kill two hours until mike would be home.

y/n and mike have known each other for three years. y/n moved into the one story house that was unoccupied in mike's neighborhood. the town wasn't used to newcomers, so of course y/n was the talk of the town for her first two weeks there.

it wasn't until a month later when y/n was on her morning run on a saturday, and had bumped into michael. she was instantly confused when she noticed he was in his work uniform, and on the way back to his house. the two made light conversation, and ended up at y/n's that night for a movie marathon.

about a month after that, mike knocked on y/n's front door, and properly asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him. of course the girl agreed, and that was the first date of many for the couple.

which leaves y/n in the position she's in - babysitting abby.

when mike and y/n officially started dating abby interrogated the girl. asking her a bunch of questions, some more personal than others, which mike quickly interjected. abby gave mike the idea of having y/n watch over her, instead of having to pay random strangers. mike obviously agreed.

y/n settled herself on the couch and put on a random horror movie that was on tv. she couldn't even get past the opening as her eyes closed and her body went limp from tiredness.

she grabbed the blanket at the other end of the couch before fully letting sleep embrace her.

the only time y/n woke up was when she heard the doorknob rattling. she turned slightly, to look over the back of the couch, and saw her boyfriend walking through the doorway.

"shit, were you sleeping?" mike asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it by the front door.

y/n sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "yeah, but i can go. abby's asleep so i did my job pretty well," she chuckles.

"thank you again. and you know you can stay babe, i don't mind the comapny," michael smiles.

y/n couldn't help but notice how on edge mike looked as soon as he walked inside.

"are you okay?" she asks softly, still sitting on the couch.

mike nods as he sits down beside her, "yeah, just a long night." he leans over and kisses her cheek, causing y/n's cheeks to turn pink.

"do you want to talk about it?" y/n moves her leg to rest her chin on her knee, as mike's eyes glaze over the tv screen before turning fully towards his girlfriend.

"william was just on my ass before my shift, and vanessa had so much energy tonight, i just couldn't handle it. and it felt like time was going so slow tonight," mike's voice was quiet. y/n could tell he had a rough night as he rubbed his eyes.

y/n leans forward and turns off the tv, making mike slightly confused. "is there anything i can do to cheer you up?" y/n stands in front of mike and holds her hands out. he immediately takes her hands in his as he stands with her. mike leans forward and kisses y/n's forehead.

"can you just stay here tonight?" mike's voice almost seems desperate, as if y/n's presence was the only thing keeping him going right now.

y/n nods, "i'll always stay if you ask me to," she smiles as mike closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

"was abby okay tonight?" mike asked, pulling away, but still keeping their hands connected.

"she was good, until trying to get her to go to bed. but you didn't hear that from me," this caused mike to let out a small laugh.

the couple, with one of their hands linked with each other's, went down the hallway. mike stopped y/n and opened abby's bedroom door quietly. y/n stood beside mike and held onto his arm with her free hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

the pair were met with abby sleeping under her blanket. small snores escaped her lips. y/n leaned up and kissed mike's jaw, before whispering, "c'mon, i know you need sleep just as much as she does."

y/n pulls mike into his room, which was at this point their shared room. mike had two drawers of his dresser specifically for y/n, vice verse in y/n's room. mike stepped into the bathroom and they both got ready for the night, in the most comfortable clothes they own.

y/n was already laying down under the sheets once mike came out of the bathroom. even laying there, he thought y/n looked so effortlessly beautiful.

"why are you staring at me like that?" y/n asks as she watches mike slide into the bed next to her.

"what? i can't stare at my pretty girl?" mike leans forward and kisses y/n on the lips, as he brings his left hand to her cheek. he rolls over, so his right arm is on the mattress, as he hovers over y/n. her hands move to his waist, slowing moving to his lower back.

their lips molded with one another's, and y/n could almost sense the stress leaving mike's body.

mike barely pulled away, leaving little to no space in between the two, "i love you so much."

y/n smiled, "i love you too."

she leaned up to kiss him once more, and mike playfully rolled his eyes while moving to lay down beside the girl. mike loved falling asleep while holding onto y/n's waist, because he knew she was safe.

[kikixreverie]

Need to know

Best friend!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

Word count - 5k

Warnings - kind of smut, Dry-humping, slight dirty talk, a lot of kissing, fluff, jealousy

A/n - This was a request from an anon but Tumblr ate the ask... and I don't have it written down, but it was something along the lines of 'Best friend!bucky x reader where she asks him advice about a guy to make him jealous'. I wrote this months ago and it definitely wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are. I have edited it about 50 times now and still feel kinda anxious about it since I haven't posted in a while so I really hope you enjoy!

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

You had always been close with Bucky. Always. Having met in your teenage years and grown up together, you were thick as thieves, he'd been your best friend for now the majority of your life. Someone you'd always go to over anyone else when problems would arise at home or school, and he did the same with you.

He had found you hiding out in the library on your second day at your new school, picking at your food with distaste as you sat alone. You were surprised at the fact that the boy had even talked to you in the first place, offering a small wave of his hand and a kind smile when you first saw him, but when he asked politely if he could sit with you and didn't hesitate to pull his lunch from his backpack and complain as dramatically as possible that there was just 'far too much food in his bag and no way he could eat it all', you remember smiling the most you had in weeks, rolling your eyes as you took the fruit he had offered you wordlessly.

You'd been best friends ever since, and there was always this unspoken understanding between you, one that you never had with Steve, as much as you loved him, or Natasha, as close as you are. It was always different with Bucky, always a different atmosphere between the two of you.

That was also unspoken. You'd mentioned it once to Natasha, explained to her that somehow, just being in the same room as him managed to calm that ever-looming anxiety you tended to feel, and when you'd meet his eyes across the distance, you always knew exactly what he was trying to tell you without any words needing to be spoken, that for weeks after your childhood pet passed away when you were 15, Bucky held your hand every single day because your anxiety had spiked and he had noticed the constant shake to them. That became a hard habit to lose.

Her response was 'the look', almost deadpan, wordlessly saying to you 'I know you're not a fucking idiot, c'mon now'.

You had blushed and changed the subject.

Of course there were times you might've looked at him a bit differently, you met at a fairly young age, and it was after meeting him that your interest in boys grew.

Watching the scrawny boy you'd known since you were 13 get his braces off and grow a sudden foot taller was a lot for your growing heart to handle, and then that Brooklyn-boy charm came in and girls were falling at his feet, not one of them knowing or caring about who he was, just hypnotised by those light blue eyes. You always hoped he was too distracted by those girls to notice how desperately hard you tried not to fall under his spell too.

So yeah sure, there may have been a time during your mid-to-late teens and possibly your early twenties that you might have liked him in a' more than a friend' way.

But that didn't mean anything had to come of it.

However, there's a certain red-headed Russian woman in your life that, for some reason, refuses to let you hide in your dark pit of misery and denial.

You shouldn't have even mentioned it. the one time you willingly brought up the topic of James Barnes with the all-knowing Natasha and she had immediately fed your delusions.

"I'm not saying he was jealous at all, Nat, I'm just saying... he looked kind of upset."

"What kind of upset? Did he look sad? Angry? Were his eyebrows all furrowed? ooh, did his fists clench? I bet his fists clenched. The jaw definitely clenched. He's a jaw clencher for sure-"

"Nat, Stop! He just..." You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically as you leaned against her kitchen counter, "He just seemed off."

"Okay, but did his jaw-"

"Yes! Now can we stop talking about it."

She stopped what she was doing to stare at you, her eyebrows raised, "You do realise you're the one that brought it up right?"

You sighed and pressed your palm to your forehead, before dragging it down your face, and Natasha tutted, wrapping her arms around you in a tight squeeze.

"You're stressing yourself out too much about all this, babe. Why don't you just ask him how he feels."

You pulled back from the comforting embrace quickly, but still stayed in her arms, "Fuck that. No. No way. Then he'd know, he'd know why I asked, or he'd at least ask me why I asked and then I'd either have to run away or lie to him and I've never been able to-"

"Okay, breathe angel. Stop this, you can't do this forever, honey. I know you're scared of losing him but this is what could break your friendship if you let it, half the time you're avoiding him because you are so scared of him knowing how you feel." Said Natasha, before she pulled away to continue with her cooking.

"What do you mean how I feel?" You asked, feeling your cheeks grow hot when she sighed and shook her head, not even looking your way.

"Nope, no, not even gonna get started on that one. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You opened your mouth to argue but she only gave you another look, and your mouth snapped closed.

It was silent for a moment and you leant your elbows on the counter, holding your face in your hands as you watched her expertly sprinkle different spices into her food, but you knew not to get too comfortable in her silence, Natasha was scheming, and that was definitely something to be frightened of.

You practically jumped out of your skin when she finally broke the silence, "I have an idea, but I need you to have an open mind and actually listen for once, okay?"

You hesitated, struggling to hold the intense eye-contact she was currently giving you. A part of you was ready to say no, tell her to leave it be and let you wither in a pit of sadness, but the rest of you leaned in to her words, wanting, no, needing something to happen, anything after years of this constant stalemate, this strange game of cat and mouse between yourself and your best friend. You were constantly holding your breath around Bucky, waiting for something inevitable to happen. What that would be? You had no idea, but you couldn't do it anymore.

"...go on." You finally said, having made up your mind without realising. Natasha almost seemed surprised, but you weren't sure that was even possible. She nodded and gave you a smile.

"You wanna know if he was jealous? Give him a reason to be and then figure out if he is, that way, you'll have more of an idea of how he's feeling, and when it comes to talking to him about your feelings, you might actually do it this time. Plus, you might get some info on how to get him even more interested."

You thought over her words, still confused as to what her grand plan was, "And how might I do that exactly?"

"Say you've got a date, ask him for advice, play with him a little bit. Works every time, trust me."

She said it like it was no big deal, and you were stuck on the way her smirk widened when she said 'play with him a little bit'.

"I just told you I can't lie to him." You replied.

Natasha simply raised her eyebrow at you, "As if you haven't been lying to him since you were 15."

"Hey, that's not lying, it's just... concealing certain parts of the truth."

She tilted her head in your direction but you ignored her, turning away completely and crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

"Don't lie then, tell him that your interested in some guy and play it off like your asking for advice. He doesn't have to know that he is said guy and its all a secret ploy to make his jaw clench again."

"Nat." You groaned.

"What?"

"Why would I ask him for advice though? He knows I'd go to you."

Nat sighed this time, frustrated with your excuses, "Tell him you wanted advice from a guy."

"But Steve-"

"Just do it! If he's actually jealous he'll be more focused on the fact that your trying to get into pants that aren't his." She raised her voice, dropping her wooden spoon into the simmering pot to turn to you, that Russian accent peaking through her words.

"Nat, I'm telling you now, he isn't jealous."

She almost started to argue, but then she spotted that dejected look in your eye and stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm her frustrations and think of a good response, "Are you saying that because you believe it? Or because you want him to be jealous so bad you wish he wasn't, because you're terrified of losing him."

You went silent, staring down at the floor when you realised you had no response for her.

"Thought so." She said before shuffling closer, pulling you in for a hug, "Look babe, you need to stop worrying about what could happen, and just focus on what is happening right now. If you're not ready to tell him how you feel, you don't have to. Trying this won't hurt, and it won't hurt your friendship, okay? Go one step at a time, you're getting too ahead of yourself."

You thought about it for a while as you enjoyed the hug, before you pulled back and nodded, thanking her for the advice and apologising for being difficult, she only chuckled and began to dish up the food.

"No worries honey, I'm used to it."

It's not like you had ever said you'd actually do it, and you never exactly planned to. But Natasha's plan had started to loom over every interaction you had with Bucky, so much so that without realising you had started to avoid him, and that only made you feel worse.

It took a sleepless night of tossing and turning and missing your best friend like crazy when you finally made the decision. You can't do this forever, why not just say fuck it for once.

It started when Bucky had invited you to his place for a movie night, like he did every weekend, like he had the past two weekends where you had declined, but this time you said yes, and decided that this would be the night you tried to make him jealous.

You weren't proud of it, and a part of you felt incredibly guilty as you stood at his door and knocked. No matter how many times Natasha told you this was harmless, you still couldn't believe her.

"Are we knocking now? What happened to 'your place is my place'?" Bucky asked as he opened the front door to let you in, barely moving aside so your arm brushed against his when you walked past him.

"Ha ha. Just didn't know if it was locked or not." You punched his shoulder and he scrunched up his face in mock offense.

"Sure. Go sit down and pick a movie, I'm just getting some snacks ready." Bucky said, nodding to the couch before he turned and walked into the kitchen, black sweatpants so low on his hips you could just about see the waistband of his boxers, wearing a black t-shirt with his hair pulled back into the low bun you'd helped him learn how to do.

You nodded slowly, watching him walk away for a few seconds before rolling your eyes at your own idiotic behaviour and slumping down across Bucky's couch, the remote in your hand as you lazily flicked through Netflix.

"Any particular genre?" You shouted out to Bucky, who came out from the other room to shrug his shoulders at you.

"Like I said, doll, whatever you'd like. Only fair after I made you come with me to see that god-awful movie Pheobe forced me to watch."

You snorted a laugh, frowning when he walked away again, your mind wandering to the last time you went to the movies with Bucky, over a month ago now, when he had forced you to third-wheel his second date with 'Pheobe' for no apparent reason.

It was almost humiliating the way she had pulled you aside in the bathroom.

-

"I seriously don't mean to be rude but... why are you here?" Pheobe whispered, despite the fact that every stall was empty and Bucky was stood outside the building, but your face grew heated as the woman across from you voiced the exact question you'd been asking yourself all night, "Like, at first I thought you were a lesbian, but after that story you told earlier I'm assuming you're not, which is fine, but why are you here? I told Bucky this was a date. Does he really not like me at all?"

You were stumped, opening and closing your mouth like a blank-minded fish, searching for the answer that you didn't have, only coming up empty, "Honestly Phoebe, I have no idea. I'm sure he does like you, maybe he just wanted me to come to..."

"Maybe he just wanted to go on a date with you."

"What?!"

"You heard me. I think I'm the third-wheel here." Her voice went quiet, and you instantly felt bad.

"No, Pheobe. That's absurd, he's my best friend."

"You might want to re-think that."

--

"What did you pick?" Bucky asked, placing the bowl of popcorn in-between you as he sat down and you smiled at him, pushing away the memory.

"Twilight." You replied, sinking back into your seat as you grabbed and handful of popcorn and shovelled it into your mouth.

Bucky nodded as his eyes focused on the screen, his jawline prominent as he chewed, licking his lips of the salty flavouring, a light stubble on his jaw from not shaving in a few days-

"You good?"

You gulped loudly, taking a breath as you met his eyes, embarrassed that you'd been caught staring, "Yup." You said, nodding as you turned to look at the screen again, ignoring his amused chuckle.

Your mind wandered to the conversation you'd had with Natasha only hours ago.

'Don't overthink it, just bring it up when you get the chance, be casual about it'

No overthinking, casual. Easy. Maybe now would be a good time to bring it up, casually, without overthinking anything.

"Actually-" You started, clearing your throat when it immediately closed up and your fight or flight was begging to kick in, your mind instantly wondering to all of the negative repercussions this could-

You were definitely overthinking right now.

"Yes?" Bucky asked, still half watching the movie before he fully turned to face you, sensing that this sounded fairly serious.

Definitely not casual either.

"I wanted to uh, talk to you about something." The temptation to smack yourself on the forehead was growing unbearably stronger by the second, but you imagined that would probably raise some concern. Your hands twitched by your sides instead.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's kind of- I basically, well." You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but sighed instead, just fucking say it, fucking lie to your best friend to find out if he's jealous, "There's this guy."

His eyebrows raised, lips parting, before he quickly snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his eyebrows, taking on a sort of clinical expression as he nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"He's uh... I really- like... him, and... he's..." You took a breath, too many pauses, "different, you know?"

He scrunched his face up, "Different? What does that even mean."

"I don't know I just-" You covered your face with your hands, regretting every decision that had led you to this point. "I really want him to like me."

It was quiet for a moment, and you wanted to peak at him, but couldn't.

Bucky sighed, hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pull your hands away from your face, "Look sweetheart, if he's really a smart guy, he'll already like you. Any person would be lucky to have you, you don't need to change for anyone."

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless, "I know Buck, thank you. I just..."  

Don't overthink it.

"I was wondering if maybe, you might give me some advice? I'm seeing him on Monday and I guess I just want to make him want me, you know?"

He paused, still holding onto your wrists, "Want you?"

"Yeah, you know like- I wanna know what guys really like. I want to make sure he'll never forget me. That sort of thing."

"Sweets, I don't know if you should be asking me that. Why don't you just talk to Natasha if it's that important." He said, letting go of your wrists and pulling away.

"Because I want to hear it from a guy, and Steve's far too awkward for this conversation. C'mon Buck, please. I want you to teach me."

"You want me to teach you?" He asked, more than slightly breathless, and you quickly realised that this sounded much less like getting advice for a guy you like and more trying to get info on what Bucky liked sex-wise.

You did not plan for it to go down that route, and you wondered if you should pull it back, change the subject and try this again another time, without getting too explicit, but the way Bucky had almost whispered those words, was driving you insane. You wanted this to go further. "Yeah, I want to give this guy the night of his life."

He clenched his jaw, and tried not to laugh at the situation, almost tempted to text Natasha at that very moment and break the news. 'Jaw has clenched, I repeat, the jaw has clenched'. You managed to keep that temptation under control, still finding the situation slightly humorous before you actually realised what this meant.

Holy fuck, he's jealous.

You knew now was as good a time as any to push further, and with your new-found realisation, came a new-found confidence, the nerves pushed to the back of your mind, the only thing left of them being the fluttering in your chest.

"What do you think I should wear?" You held back a smirk when he leaned forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees as he dropped his face into his hands. You kept pushing, "Remember that green dress I wore to your birthday last year? Do you think I should wear that one? You'd think he'd like that? Would you like it if it were you?"

"What do you mean if it were me?"

You froze, your cheeks heating up, that heat spreading to your neck as you quickly tried to save yourself whilst keeping this strange relaxed smoothness to your voice. "If you went on a date with Pheobe, and she wore that dress, would you like it?" You asked, before deciding to push it even further. Natasha's voice echoed in your mind 'play with him a little', "Would you think about taking it off her?"

He didn't even hesitate to reply, turning his head to look at you as he continued to sit forward, an almost angered air to his words, "It wouldn't suit her."

"You don't like it? But I thought-"

"Yes, I liked the dress, you looked fucking gorgeous in it. It just would suit her." He urged, the words coming out in one breath, his voice straining over the final word as if it was physically uncomfortable to say, like he held a certain distaste for the word. Her.

You could sense the atmosphere in the room changing, warping with the darker, heavy feeling that radiated off the man you were teasing without him even realising it, and although you knew you should probably stop, that you were getting on his nerves and for some reason this seemed to be a touchy subject, that nagging, red-headed voice was seeping into your thoughts again, telling you to go further, so you continued to push.

"Would he like it do you think?" You asked, tilting your head, keeping that sickly sweet innocent look on your face, he sighed and closed his eyes, his tongue wetting his lips again, teeth biting at the soft skin.

"If he had half a brain he'd fucking love it." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing along the words 'fucking love it' and you knew exactly what he was thinking of, the picture he had in his head.

Your smile faded, watching the way he opened his eyes but kept them trained to his feet. That heat grew in your chest, that weight, that feeling, weaving its way around your heart and seeping into your bloodstream, it carried through your veins, and suddenly you had never felt closer to your teenage self than you did now, like she had pushed the older you aside and taken her place, because she knew this feeling, she was the only version of you to ever fully accept and admit it for what it was, that the reason she blushed so much when her best friend asked her to prom because he'd rather go with you than some random girl he didn't care about, was because you loved him, and of course you still do now, of course you do.

You thought of what Pheobe said that night, you thought of what Natasha was constantly telling you, or that time Steve accidentally slipped that Bucky had a crush on you when you were younger, and you looked at him now, quickly realising that it was never them who warped your idea of Bucky's feelings, it was you.

The feeling had encapsulated your entire being now, the realisation of yours and his feelings and you decided that you had both waited far too long if this is what you wanted.

And you wanted him.

So you continued to play, speaking with a much more serious air this time, you didn't smirk, you just watched him as you spoke.

"I guess that's settled then, I just need to know what to wear under it." You practically whispered it, the warm apartment feeling sweltering now.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself, dropping his head in his hands again, "What are you doing?"

He looked at you from his bent position, almost looking desperate. No, he did look desperate, and you hated and loved it at the same time, for two very different reasons, you understood exactly what he was feeling, having been a victim to his teasing one too many times.

You parted your lips to talk, thinking for a second that you might actually be upsetting him, but then his eyes dropped to watch the movement, staring at your lips as he released a breath.

"I'm asking you for advice, Buck." You said quietly, eyes darkening as you leaned closer, your nose almost touching his and his eyes dropped again, entranced by your lips, "What about kissing?"

His lips parted, eyes darting up to meet yours, but he made no move to go back, in fact, you realised with a feather-light touch of his nose to yours, that he had inched closer to you, "What?"

His eyes were soft as he waited for you to speak, no apprehension to be seen.

"I need to know how to kiss him, how guys like it, you know?" He moved back an inch, that not so subtle disappointment in his eyes, "How do you like to be kissed, Buck?"

He shook his head in a barely there movement, eyes still not leaving yours, swallowing roughly when he caught you looking at his lips.

You moved closer to him, filling that inch that he had put between you, your heart thumping faster in your chest when he did the same, like he was magnetised, he looked at your lips again and you decided to take the chance.

"Like this?" You asked, before filling the gap completely and your pressed your lips to his, kissing him soft and slow, your stomach fluttering when he didn't hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you back the exact way you were guiding him to, but you pulled back before letting it continue for long, his breath fanning out across your lips, you gaze fluttered to his eyes for a moment, "Or like this?"

You kissed him again, this time harder, more urgency in it, your right hand lifting to his shoulder before you slid it to the nape of his neck, a sudden desperate need for his lips on every inch of your skin overcoming your thoughts when his arms wrapped around your waist.

You pulled away again and he tried desperately hard to follow you, eyes opening to voice his frustration when you wouldn't let him.

But you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, silencing him, "Or maybe like this."

This, this was definitely the one.

You kissed him soft and slow, but this time parted your lips to brush your tongue across his, relishing in the noise that escaped him when you did so, and the way he then did the same to you, parting his lips in a way that breathed hot air into the kiss.

You were so enraptured with the taste of him that you barely even noticed when he pulled you onto his lap, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. You only realised when his thighs between yours had suddenly stopped your ability to squeeze your thighs together in hopes of relieving that throbbing ache that had formed between them.

This kiss continued much longer than you had planned it to, forgetting what you were going to do next, but you didn't mind much, too caught up in the way his lips were so stupidly soft and his tongue was hot and wet, and his hands were huge and grasping at your clothes with a desperation so similar to the way you pulled his hair.

You pulled away again, much to his dismay as he practically growled and rolled his eyes in frustration. He rested his head back against the couch and licked his kiss swollen lips.

You needed more, barely letting yourself think about the fact that you had just kissed Bucky, The Bucky, Your Bucky.

"What about this, Buck? You like it when a girl does this?" You asked and he frowned, looking up at you in almost annoyed confusion, opening his mouth to speak but then you moved forward on his lap, sitting in a way that your core was pressed against his, his cock twitching in his sweatpants when you rolled those hips of yours, the annoyance and confusion faded and he reached for your hips, eyes fluttering shut when you made the movement again, biting your lip when it stimulated your clit, "Do you think you could come from this, Bucky? Or would you need more? Would you want my hand, or my mouth? Or would you just be begging to fuck me at this point."

He groaned at practically every question, his hands holding your hips as you grinded yourself on him, his cock now achingly hard as his hips started to lift slightly.

"Fuck, sweetheart, what is this? Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice urgent and needy as he forced himself to stay still under you, gripping your hips tighter to signal for you to stop your movements, much to either of your dismay, "Please tell me this isn't all for some fuckin' guy."

You froze, confused for a second, before realising he still had no idea, and that guilt you had shoved away creeped back in.

Your heart was in your throat as you finally told him the truth, "It is, but he's you Buck. It was always you, it's always been you."

His lips parted, eyes widening slightly at what you had just confessed to him, "I'm the guy you were asking me advice about?"

"Well yeah, who else am I gonna get better advice about what you like from? Better to hear it from the horses mouth, eh?" You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders as you watched him huff a laugh with a shake of his head.

"Natasha, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow but you didn't respond, probably looking very guilty of his accusation, "Well, I guess I should tell you that we may have been two-timed by her. She actually gave me the very same advice a few months ago, I just never had the guts to take it as far as you did."

"You talk to Nat about me?" You teased, but he only smiled gently, soft eyes watching you.

"Of course I do, how could I not tell her all about the girl I've been in love with since I was 15." He confessed quietly, blush reddening his cheeks, "God, she must be sick of me talking about you."

You laughed quietly, trying not to settle into the disbelief of it all and instead focus on your excitement, that teenage girl inside of you was screaming with glee and kicking her feet. You didn't let realisation that James Barnes just confessed he'd loved you the whole time you'd loved him be tainted with regret about wasted time.

"She must be sick of us both, I've been doing the same thing ever since I met her."

He smiled at you and you smiled back, pressed your forehead against his.

"What do we do now?" You asked, still very much feeling the physical after-effects of your intense make-out session.

Bucky huffed a laugh, "I'd love to say go to the bedroom, but not yet, I think we should work up to that."

You nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant and feeling thankful he was able to voice it for you, "Agreed."

"We could do this for a while longer though, still got four and a half twilight movies left to go." Bucky joked, his fingers finding their way under your shirt to brush against soft skin.

"Hm, sounds like an excuse to make out with your best friend all night."

"Maybe it is." He whispered back before he kissed you again, using his hand on your back to press you against him.

It felt so natural to the both of you, your bodies fitting together perfectly, no awkwardness or anxiety. You knew you'd both need to talk properly soon, but that could wait a few movies more, for now you could settle with kissing him until you ran out of air.

[astrozuya]

☆ SUNDAY MORNING — hong joshua.

⊹ . ♡ pairings. joshua x male!reader. fluff. 0.7k wc. warnings: established relationship. ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

you've always secretly thought of joshua hong as perfect. logically, you know that humans are messy and imperfect despite however they might appear on the surface, but looking at joshua, you just can't see it.

maybe it's the rose tinted glasses of budding love painting him in a different light, but to you, joshua could never be anything but perfect.

it's a thought that often crosses your mind when you think about your boyfriend, and it's one that presents itself now, as he emerges from the bedroom and stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, smiling sleepily at you.

his hair is fluffy and mussed up, his eyes and skin lit up golden by the sunlight, and when he mumbles out a quiet, "good morning, sweetheart," his voice is a little hoarse and sleepy, though it still has that honeyed quality to it that you've come to know and adore.

you're so lost in affection for him that it isn't until he sits down on the couch next to you that you realize you haven't replied. "good morning," you say quickly, still a little distracted by how pretty he looks. shua likes calling you 'pretty boy', but in your opinion, no one could ever, ever beat shua at being pretty. the word was made for him.

joshua smiles mischievously at you and pulls you onto his lap. his shirtless chest and arms are warm as they close around you. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and mumbles, "what were you thinking about that had you so lost in thought, hm?"

you glance up at him, taking in the warm tones of his skin, the rich brown hues of his eyes, the way the sunlight filtering in through the windows dances across the lines of his face. "you."

shua laughs, a little flustered, and takes your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours. "your flirting is too much for me, prince, i'm swooning."

the nickname is one shua often uses for you, but it still has you melting. you avert your eyes from his and glance instead at the soft material of his sweatpants. "you're one to talk."

joshua grins at that and relaxes into the couch, tightening his grip around you. when you try and get up he frowns and pulls you closer, whining, "no, stay. for a little longer, okay?"

"but shua, it's—"

"sunday morning!" then he adds, "time to relax and cuddle with me. if you try and move, i'll start singing—"

"please, no." you reply flatly. you love shua's voice, but you've gotten sick of hearing sunday morning. you've heard him sing it so many times you could sing it in your sleep. "shua, i have to get up."

"nooo," he whines playfully. "stay, and then i'll make us breakfast later."

you level him with a serious look. "pancakes?"

he nods back, equally serious. "pancakes. with syrup and fruit and everything."

"hmm." you tilt your head to the side playfully, as if considering the offer, even though you know that there's nothing you want more than to stay close to him for eternity. "...alright then."

shua smiles smugly and presses a kiss to your exposed neck. "you look good in my sweatshirt, by the way."

you hadn't even noticed you'd worn his sweatshirt. maybe it had something to do with the uncomfortable restlessness and thoughts running through your head that caused you to wake up early. you'd grabbed his clothes to wear almost unconsciously, seeking comfort in the familiar softness, and the safe scent of joshua's clothes— sunlight and his strawberry shampoo.

"sorry," you start to reply, only for him to cut you off. "it's fine, love. like i said, you look good in it."

"thanks." then you smile at him. "you look good without it."

he gasps dramatically, looking down first at his shirtless chest, then at your playful smile. "y/n, i said i couldn't handle your flirting, are you trying to kill me?"

"but you're a bigger flirt," you counter. he hums and rests his chin on your shoulder. "only with you."

your gaze flickers up to meet his, and he leans in, lips slightly parted, his eyes shimmering with desire.

you angle your head up and press your lips to his, and his hand goes to rest against your back.

it's fine, you suppose. the pancakes can wait.

notes: requested by @haocovr. this req was so cute omg, elio i hope i did ur request justice and that u liked this !!

[cambion-companion]

Dinner Date

Sorry I haven't written in a while! I have several anon asks requesting something small for a dinner date with Raphael, inspired no doubt by the lovely Mr. Wincott's contribution in the livestream!

With a little twist because I haven't explored what it would be like delivering the crown to the cambion.

"What could be more exquisite than watching the hero of Baldur's Gate walk to me, fresh in the moonlight." Raphael leaned forward in his seat, the cool night air and cricket song belaying the tension in his taught frame.

He smiled as you approached and sat at the wooden table, the warm brown eyes of his human guise sparkling in the candlelight. "You've proven to be quite the asset, my dear. A fortuitous investment, indeed."

"Raphael." You greeted, your stomach doing obnoxious flips as it always did in his presence. "I brought you a little souvenir, as I'm sure you already know."

"Indeed I am." Raphael purred, his eyes scanning you person with keen intent. "I had front row seats, as it were. Your victory was marvelous. You played your part well."

You grunted, not flattered by the way he treated it all like an elaborate theater production. You hefted the wrought iron crown out of your bag of holding and placed it, glittering, upon the table.

The weight of such an artifact drew both your gazes, and all that could be heard for several moments was a soft zephyr stirring the trees and the sound of frogs and crickets harmonizing to the summer night.

The candle sputtered in the breeze and you looked to Raphael only to find his eyes already locked on your face.

He spoke with an intensity you'd not yet become familiar with. "Well done." He swirled deep red wine in his crystal chalice. "I wish you'd reconsider becoming business partners."

"You say it like we'd be equals." You scoffed, knowing full well he'd love nothing more than to gain your soul for his collection. You shook your head and took a sip of your own drink. "I think not, Raphael. As much as I like you, I'm not that stupid."

"I'd be disappointed if you gave in easily." Raphael raised a hand and the crown vanished in a swirl of golden embers, their brief light reflected in your widened eyes. "I do so enjoy the chase, and you are such a lush prize."

You have the cambion a wry smile, a touch of fondness to the curl of your lips. "I'll admit, it would be disappointing if after this we never saw each other again."

Raphael nodded and beckoned a waiter, never removing his gaze from your face. He looked for all the world like the cat who got the cream. "What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes." He gestured grandly as he spoke, illustrating his words with his hands. "I fully intend on having my cake, and I will eat it too."

Later that same night, Raphael had whisked you away back to his House of Hope. You'd expressed mild displeasure at being taken back to Avernus but he'd quelled your complaints with a look.

Raphael reclined in a grand chair, almost a throne in appearance, his leg crossed over the other. His human skin had been shed in favor of his larger, sharper devil form. He raised two fingers, snapped them, and conjured the crown of Karsus to float between where you stood and he sat.

"Now we are somewhere more appropriate, I require you to complete our contract."

You pursed your lips together, knowing the answer before you spoke the question. "How, exactly?"

Raphael paused for dramatic effect. When he spoke next it was a command, not a request. "Crown me."

The crown felt cold and heavy in your hands when you took it, the weight extending to your very soul as you approached where Raphael sat.

You slowly lifted it and placed the intricate metal piece gently onto his heady, being careful to accommodate for the thorny spiral of his horns. It slid perfectly atop his dark hair, you couldn't help but admire the way it looked. "As though it was made for you." You said aloud, not noticing the words come out of your mouth.

A large, clawed hand cupped the back of your neck, hellfire eyes burning into you. "As surely as your very soul was for me." Raphael purred and dragged you down for a searing kiss.

[chvoswxtch]

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger. 

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that. 

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it. 

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language. 

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes. 

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier. 

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you. 

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively. 

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss. 

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one. 

Single. 

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you. 

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene. 

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had. 

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination? 

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on. 

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered. 

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval. 

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night. 

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat. 

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear. 

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to. 

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes. 

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh. 

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck. 

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you. 

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it. 

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross. 

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you. 

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark. 

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze. 

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over. 

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom. 

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose. 

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission. 

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath. 

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel. 

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him. 

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone. 

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation? 

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

[lanadelnegan]

One Night Stand

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Request from anon: Can you do 2000s!Jeffery Dean Morgan x actress!reader who works on Grey's anatomy w/ him (she plays Izzie instead of Katherine Heigl) but she doesnt know it yet? Like they meet at a bar and end up flirting and having sex in his hotel and she stays the night and then in the morning she's like getting dressed and says "I have to go to work blah blah blah" and he's like "me too" and then a time skip to when she's on set and Jeffery is going around meeting people and she's just standing there in total shock?

Warnings: smut, NSFW, 18+, vaginal sex, single middle-aged JDM, semi-public oral sex (female receiving), this is HAWT - trust me.

"You look like shit." A deep voice chuckles from beside me.

I snap my eyes towards the asshole, almost choking on my drink in the process. Not sure if it's from his rudeness or his hotness, but I cough and play it off. "Excuse me?"

He laughs before ordering himself a drink. "Oh, and another for the lady here. Looks like she could use it."

My mouth drops open as he just.. grins at me. Who the hell does he think he is.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I ask annoyed.

"Not yet.. do you want to?" His wide grin stretches across his face, revealing his pearly white teeth. I study his face in the neon bar lights, noticing the shades of green swimming throughout his light brown orbs. This man is stunning.

I chug the drink he orders me seconds after the bartender sets it down. "Not really, but thanks for the drink."

He nods and sips his own drink, raising one of his thick brows at me. "Bad day?"

I sigh, trying to relax a little and accept his small talk. "Just tired."

"Then why are you here? There are beds upstairs, ya know?"

I glare at him. "I'm tired.. of other people. Tired of faking conversations I don't care to have."

He raises both of his brows this time and appears to look surprised by my forwardness. "Well excuse me darlin'. I'll shut the hell up then." He goes back to sipping his whiskey.

Out of all the things he's said so far, it's that sentence that finally puts a smile on my face. "Bout time." I tease and roll my eyes dramatically.

An awkward silence follows after we both laugh. I look over and his eyes meet mine, right before they slowly trail down to my lips. The playfulness in his features fades into a seductive gaze and fuck.. this is the kind of energy I've needed since I've been in this shitty town.

I've been filming for months now, only getting to visit home on the weekends. This hotel is basically my home and it's taken a toll on me for sure. At least at home I have my cats. Here I just have half empty wine bottles, my vibrator, and candy bars stashed in my nightstand to keep me company. I guess when I put it that way, it doesn't sound so bad.

"Are you staying here?" I blurt before I can stop myself. That was a stupid question. Why else would he be at this hotel's bar.

He blatantly ignores me, pulling out his phone while leaning his elbows against the bar and pretends to scroll.

"Um, okay." My lips clench together awkwardly as I nod my head and look in the other direction. "Good talk."

"Oh, forgive me darlin'. Can I talk now?" His veiny hand rests against his heart as he sarcastically grins at me. What a fucking smart ass.

"You know what, no. You can't. Never mind." I get up to leave, hoping he stops me.. and he does.

He turns in his bar stool and blocks me with his thigh as I try to walk past him. "What the hell are you doing?" I snap, walking around his leg. I don't realize he's behind me until I step on the elevator and turn around. I gasp a little, looking up at him. His face is serious now.. all the playfulness from earlier gone.

He backs away and leans against the wall of the elevator. The door is closed but I haven't even pressed the button to my floor yet. He crosses his arms and nods towards the buttons, urging me to press one.

"I'm not taking you to my room." I cross my arms, mimicking him.

"Okay, but I'm walking you there."

The seriousness on his face tells me I'm not going to win this one, so I hesitantly press the number 6 and the elevator starts to ascend as we stare at each other the entire way up.

When the door finally slides open, I start to leave but he gently grabs my wrist, turning me back around. Before I can fully face him, he leans down pressing his lips against mine softly. As soon as he pulls away, I pull his shirt towards me, silently granting him permission and begging for more. My back slams against the elevator wall as he kisses me hard this time. His large hands cup my face as I moan into his mouth. My hands reach for his back as his body presses firmly against me.

He tastes like whiskey and tobacco and smells like leather and musky cologne. It's euphoric. His lips are full and soft but the stubble hairs surrounding his mouth scratch at my sensitive skin. I let myself imagine what it would feel like between my legs.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he breaks away from our kiss, breathing heavily before dropping to his knees and wasting no time throwing my leg over his shoulder. My mouth gapes open as I look between him and the open elevator doors. Anyone could walk by right now and see us. My skirt bunches around my waist, giving him all the access he needs before slipping his fingers underneath my panties and pulling them to the side. I watch his face disappear between my legs and feel his warm tongue lick a stripe from my already dripping cunt to my clit. He moans from the taste and I moan at him moaning from the taste.

His tongue presses firmly against my clit repeatedly in an up down motion. He pulls back for a moment and without warning, slips his middle finger inside me, bumping it against my g-spot repeatedly while gently finding and sucking my clit again.

"Oh my god." I whisper down at him, feeling the pressure building up in me from his finger and tongue working in unison. He looks up at me like he can sense I'm about to explode, and grins against my pussy proudly. The sight alone sends me over the edge and I cum so hard that I think squirt a little in his mouth. He groans at the taste and buries his tongue deep in my hole like he needs more.

After a few moments of him lapping up all of my juices he can possible get, he stands up, lifting me in his arms in the process until my legs are wrapped around his waist. He smiles at me cockily while his facial hair glistens with my wetness.

He carries me down the hall and I point towards my room. I unlock it with my key card. Once it clicks, he kicks it open the rest of the way and quickly brings me inside, his lips never leaving mine in the process.

He lays me down on the bed but I keep my legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him down on top of me as he works on pulling my panties off with one hand and holding himself up with the other.

I arch my back, helping him slide them off.

Once I'm exposed completely to him, he leans back up, undoing his belt and throwing off his shirt, revealing his sweaty chest. He quickly pulls out his rock hard cock and I lean up on my elbows to get a better view.

His dick is just as pretty as he is.

He strokes it a couple times while he watches me watch him. My eyes grow wider at the sight of his precum leaking from the tip and he smiles down at himself. "Look at that, baby. Already got my dick leaking for you." He glides his thumb over the tip and I watch him in a trance, hoping I'm not visibly drooling.

"You ready for me, doll?" He asks as he leans back over me, bracing himself up with his hand. I nod as he kisses my lips and I still taste myself on his mouth. His hazel eyes look down into mine as he uses his other hand to guide himself towards my entrance. I feel the tip of him circle my opening before he slides in me agonizingly slow. He doesn't stop until his dick is pressing against my cervix almost painfully. I groan and wiggle a little, trying to adjust to him. He slides halfway out before thrusting his hips flush against me again, causing my mouth drops open as he reaches even deeper this time.

"That's a good fucking girl. Taking me so deep." His raspy voice praises me before his lips connect with the sensitive spot under my ear. He bites and licks at me while his stubble tickles me. I reach my hands around to hold onto his back and his thrusts grow steadier and faster. I scratch his back hard enough that I'm sure it's leaving marks, but it encourage him to fuck me harder so I don't stop.

"Mmm, fuck." I moan out. His hips slam into me faster and my face immediately burns with heat. My mouth drops open again but I can't form any sounds because he's completely taken my breath away. He stops kissing my neck to look at me again and smiles arrogantly when he sees my face and what he's doing to me.

"Goddamn, baby. This pussy feels so fucking good." His breathing is rapid and his forehead is sweaty as his grunts and moans fill the room. I can tell he's getting close and I am too. His hand reaches between us and he easily finds my clit like a pro, rubbing circles around it with his thumb and slamming into me so hard that I stars. My pussy clenches around him as I lose control, moaning loudly and arching my back at the overwhelming sensation. I cum around his cock so intensely that a tear rolls down my cheek.

"Oh fuuuck. Fuck." He says, quickly pulling out of me. He buries his head in my neck and groans, and I feel his warm seed squirt all over my lower tummy. He rolls off of me, grabbing some tissues to clean me up. "That pussy is straight from fucking heaven, baby." He chuckles as he wipes his cum from my stomach.

I get up to go pee and clean myself up and when I come back in the room, he's laying on his back.. asleep. The bedsheets are hanging halfway off, revealing his toned torso and dark chest hair. I watch his chest rise and fall slowly, taking a moment to notice every detail of the absolute sex god in my bed.. the permanent dimples embedded on each side of his mouth, the veins in his arms, the tattoos on his tan skin.

I frown to myself. Too bad this can't go anywhere. I'm way to busy in my career to settle down with someone.

I climb into bed, not bothering to wake him and fall asleep with my legs entangled with his.

The next morning:

"Hey! Wake up, I gotta go!" I yell, throwing a pillow at his face. "Seriously! GET. UP. I'm already late!" I finish tying my shoe as I yell impatiently at him. This isn’t the first time I’ve slept through my alarm and I hate being late.

He lazily rubs opens his eyes open before looking at me with that smirk. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.”

I jerk the covers off him, noticing his erect cock standing against his flat stomach. My eyes cling to the sight of it and he bites his lip and raises his eyebrows suggestively at me as I stare at him.

“As much as I’d love to sit on that right now, I Have to go. Look, just see yourself out okay? Take a shower, whatever you need to do. Just make sure the door locks when you leave.” I grab my keys and my purse and head for the door before turning around again. “You’re not... some creep are you?”

He looks at me amused. “You’re asking me that after we already slept together?”

I stare at him and rolls his eyes, sighing when I don't answer him. “Does going through your panty drawer count?” He bites his lower lip teasingly.

“Yes! That counts!”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Guess I’m a creep then.” He winks at me and I glare at him as I turn around to leave once again.

“See ya later, y/n!” He yells.

I ignore him, still pressed for time and leave him to my room as I rush to the elevator. Poor guy thinks he’ll see me again. I should’ve told him I wasn’t interested in anything other than his dick.

The doors shut before me as the elevator descends.

Oh shit.

My eyes widen with realization.

“He said my name.” I whisper to myself.

I - I didn’t tell him my name. Oh my god, what if he is some creep that’s been stalking me. That would explain the weird interaction at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a fan try to stalk me. Sucks being famous sometimes. I breathe, calming myself down. Maybe.. I told him and forgot? I was tipsy last night. I could have said it. I tell myself to soothe my nerves. I think about what he could steal in my room and mentally punch myself for not kicking him out.

What if he eats all the candy bars in my nightstand. My eyes widen at the thought. That bastard.. he would.

I overthink the entire way to work, but finally relax when I get on set with my coworkers. Ellen and I have grown close over the years. She’s like the big sister I never had.

I sip my Starbucks and change into my pretend light blue scrubs while spilling the beans to her about last night. She leans forward on couch in our dressing room, fully invested in my story.

“Was he.. ya know?” She asks curiously.

“Big?” I blush and giggle with her. “Let’s just say.. it was soo thick. He was probably a good 8 inches in length too but the thickness was simply… chefs kiss."

I make the motion with my hand as we laugh together, fully dressed now and sitting in front of the mirror getting our light makeup done. Our stylists are used to our juicy gossip. They’ve learned to tune us out by now.

I grab my iced latte and Ellen and I leave the dressing room, going into the set where all our other costars and directors are. This is definitely the biggest acting job I’ve ever landed. So many of us are on set at one time.. at least 30 of us are spread throughout this room. Ellen and I stand back, waiting for the cameras to get set up. I scan over my script even though I’ve studied it a thousand times and can recite it in my sleep.

“Oooh, todays the day I get to meet my new looove interest. Denny Duquette.” I say to Ellen, putting emphasis on his name.

“I heard the guy they chose to play him is insanely hot.” Ellen winks at me playfully.

I scoff, eyes still scanning over my lines. “Can’t be as hot as my one night stand. I mean seriously... I can’t get his face outta my head. Or his dick.”

The room grows quiet and I snap my eyes up, worried everyone heard me. When I realize they aren’t looking at me, but past me, I turn my head around and the sight almost knocks the wind out of me. Mr. one night stand himself ... No fucking way.. He definitely heard everything we just said and I internally cringe at myself.

“Y’n, meet Jeffrey.. or Denny.. I should say.” Our director next to him introduces us. My coffee slips from my hand and splashes all over the floor in between us. Jeffrey - I guess that's his name - drops to the floor on one knee before I can reach down to grab my empty cup. He lingers down there longer than he should, looking up at me with the same smirk he had last night in the elevator when my leg was draped over his shoulder. I try my best to hide the weakness in my legs and redness in my cheeks at the sight of him below me.

"Lovely to meet you." He says, standing back up with my cup in his hand. He nods his head towards Ellen, politely greeting her as well.

"Thanks." I reach for the cup and my fingers brush his lightly as I take it from him.

He stands proudly, looking down at me smiling before the director pulls him away to meet the others. As they walk past us, Jeffrey leans down to me, his mouth close to my ear.

"I can still taste you." My eyes widen and his deep whisper sends a chill straight to my aching cunt that he destroyed last night.

He walks away and I'm left standing there.. speechless. Goosebumps appear all over my arms. Before I'm done processing, Ellen leans in, "That was him... wasn't it?"

I nod my head, unable to move an inch. The producers call for Denny and myself to begin the scene and my heart races.

Ellen giggles and whispers from beside me before walking off. "Well... this should be interesting."

The End.

Might make a part 2 because I REALLY enjoyed writing this one. Xoxo