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notnctu · 3 years

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push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

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celestialrry · 3 years

Text

nerves

4.8k

HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)

summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.

warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?

Y/N was nervous.

This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.

Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.

“Miss L/N?”

Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage.

They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation.

“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.

“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her.

She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”

“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.

Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”

He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.

He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled back.

Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat.

“So.” He said.

“So.” She said back, raising a brow.

“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”

She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name.

“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.

“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.

Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.

“And?”

“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.

“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”

Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder.

Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.

Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs.

“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.

She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out.

Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”

“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.

“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now.

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him.

Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances.

She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.

“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly.

“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”

They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy.

“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.

“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”

“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.

“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.

“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.

“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?”

The green eyed man nods.

Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.

She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.

Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much.

Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.

A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure.

And then it’s over- just like that.

“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating.

She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.

Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself.

Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”

He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.

Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced.

The screen begins to play another clip.

Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands.

It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.

“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”

The phone then fades into yet another clip.

This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles” She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.

Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.

“Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”

The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“

“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot

Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.

Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”

Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance.

She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.

As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes.

“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him.

“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.

At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.”

Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”

His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch.

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.

“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter.

“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.

“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.”

Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again.

“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night.

“You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.

He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”

She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket.

“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.

“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?”

She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.

She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”

“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”

“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.

“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go.

“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes.

“Oh fuck off.”

#I just used jimmy cause I didn't feel like making my own host up lolz #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles #harrys styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #im literally half asleep but I needed to post this tonight #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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il-mio-tesoro · 3 years

Text

rosalie hale x fem!reader smut 18+

Warnings: nsfw, choking, degradation, fingering, face sitting, oral (female receiving), possessiveness, mistress used, pet used as a petname, blindfolding, very light bondage, sub/dom dynamic??, praise and a tiny bit of exhibition??

ask for requests lol, this is my first one (twilight and tvd, maybe harry potter) click here for my requests list (what i’ll write, fandoms and whatnot)

LOWER CAPS ON PURPOSE LMAO!!

i had been dating the elusive rosalie hale for a while, she had been sweet, and caring and lovely, and just a wonderful person.

never would i have thought she'd be like this in bed.

we were hanging out at her house, and she watched emmett and i play mario kart, while i sat in her lap. i wore a loose vest and a matching pair of shorts, like i usually would when i was sleeping at the cullens.

"dammit emmett!" i screamed, for what felt like the 100th time that night.

he laughed loudly, "can't help that i'm better than you!"

i scowled at him, "rematch!"

he shrugged, "you're the one losing."

rosalie rubbed your shoulders gently, while jasper laughed at our antics, "c'mon, sweetheart, you can do it. even if you don't, remember he has supernatural reflexes."

i turned round to peck her lips, "oh, i'll win babe, just you wait."

ding

ding!

the dings signalled the beginning of the race, and we immediately started mashing buttons. i focused on nothing but the screen, wiggling in rose's lap as if i were in the kart, but she didn't mind, all she'd do it laugh.

"...c'mon!" i shouted, about to finish the 3rd lap a fraction of a millimetre before emmett.

"yes!" i said, jumping up from rosalie's lap. "i beat you emmett! you, officially suck!" i turned to jasper, "i won! i bet i can beat you now, sucker!" i rambled, launching myself into his arms like i'd done many times before.

he was taken my surprise, so he hadn't had much time to consider his hand placement, and accidentally ended up resting them just above my ass.

i spun round and out of his arms, to face rosalie, "i won, babe!" she looked pissed. "i'm sorry, babe. what's u-" I began, but she cut me off, bitterly. "head up to our bedroom, sweetheart."

i almost ran upstairs, but not after hearing my vampire mate snarl at jasper and follow me.

she slammed the door behind her, and gently pushed me onto the bed, silently asking me if i knew, and was okay with what she was about to do. though stunned, i was more than okay with this happening this way.

she crawled above me and pinned me in. "you know you're mine? don't you?" she growled.

i heard booming laughter from jasper and emmett, and a quick 'ow' from them both shortly after it had begun, a slap had been delivered, presumably by alice.

i cleared my throat, "o-of course i do, love."

"then why," she started, trailing a finger down my jawline, "did you throw yourself at jasper?"

"i, well, i got giddy and hugged him when i won, i only have eyes for you, ro-"

"ah, ah, ah. that's not it, darling." she said seductively, "why did you let him touch you right-" she grabbed your ass, "-here?"

"it was higher than that, i swear rose!" i pleaded genuinely.

she looked deep into your eyes again, asking for permission. this wasn't a something you two hadn't spoken about yet. i smiled and nodded.

"hm... might show you who you belong to.. would you like that, pet?"

i blushed and became a stuttering mess, "i-" i was once again, interrupted by laughter.

"ow!" i heard emmett shout.

"we literally can't help it! we have supernatural hearing!" jasper.

"then leave." alice, bless her heart.

i heard the front door open and close.

"answer me, pet. you like that, don't you? being called pet."

"m-mhm."

she grinned and snaked her hand underneath my shirt and groped my boob and i bit my lip to keep quiet. "c'mon darling, i want to hear your pretty noises." rosalie said, helping me sit up.

"arms up." she muttered. i listened without delay, and she immediately pulled my top off and pushed me back down, "no bra, naughty girl." she tutted, hand creeping around my throat.

i moaned, involuntarily. rose grinned, "another thing you like? wow, i thought figuring you out would be harder. but no," she said trailing a hand up my front, "you're a dirty girl, aren't you?"

she pinched my rosy nipples, and i moaned slightly louder.

the blonde atop of me began massaging my breasts, kissing them, licking them, pinching them, you name it.

i pressed my legs together, and moaned more. i shrieked in shock and pleasure when she delivered a bite to my bud, rosalie only smirking at me, snaking a hand to my thighs, and using it to hold them apart, "patience, pet."

i whined at the lack of friction, but she continued her attack on my nipples, until i reached my breaking point, "rose! please, just- ugh!"

she stopped, and smiled innocently, "what darling?"

"you know, babe!"

she leaned down, and whispered in my ear, "in bed, you call me rose, or mistress. got it, pet?"

i groaned softly, and my face flushed red. "y-yes."

she licked below my ear and i shivered, "yes, what?"

"yes, mistress."

"now... what do i know?"

i turned my head away from her, "don't make me say it, rose."

she grinned, almost predatorily, "why ever not, darling?" she said sinfully.

"i'm in a house with your vampire family, i don't want them to hear."

"do it. i want them to know you're mine."

"i love you rose, but they're mated pairs, like us."

she beamed at me, with a glint in her eyes, tightening her grip on my throat a bit, not enough to hurt me though. "maybe i'll have to show you we're a mated pair then, pet."

she stripped slowly, exposing her matching red underwear set, then she took a dressing gown belt of a hook, and walked back to me with a sway in her hips.

"you're so beautiful, rosalie." i said, genuinely smiling at her.

she smiled softly, before returning to her dominatrix act.

"arms up, darling."

i obeyed without a second thought.

the red silk of the belt tied my hands to her white bedframe, a perfectly sinful contrast.

i tugged gently, and saw that i couldn't undo them. my breath caught in my throat, but i soon calmed down, knowing she wouldn't do anything to harm me in any way.

i saw her walk away again, this time returning with her black scarf.

"can you lift your head, please?"

"mhm," i said, smiling.

"i would never hurt you, y/n." she said, breaking out of her persona, and placing a tender kiss to my lips.

"i know."

the smooth material covered my eyes, blinding me, my face burned, again, and rosalie chuckled.

"your secrets keep unravelling, ma chére."

i felt her straddle my hips, and sturdy herself by pressing her hands on my chest.

a tear sounded through the room, my shorts. "rose! i liked those shorts!"

"i'll buy you new ones."

a finger traced her inner thigh, and her index and middle finger pressed against her panties, "so wet. all for me?"

i gulped, "y-yes, mistress."

she moaned at the name, and lightly ground her hips into my abdomen.

another tear filled the room, my panties. "you're lucky i don't like that set too much." i grumbled.

her hand came back up to my throat. "and you're lucky i don't punish you for that." rose slid off her stomach, and kneeled in between my legs.

"head up." i lifted my head, to which she pulled the scarf off.

"keep your eyes open."

she dragged her index and middle finger through me heat, all while maintaining eye contact, and gently sucked on her fingers. "so sweet... and wet." she grinned.

rosalie put the scarf back on me, putting me in darkness again.

her cold breath fanned my mound and she blew on my clit. i moaned an ground myself into the mattress.

"such a whore... all for me." i moaned again at her use of whore.

"rose..."

"what's a good girl like you enjoying being called a whore?" she asked innocently, probably grinning.

her cool tongue gingerly touched my slit, liking a stripe from the bottom of it right to the top, flattening her tongue over the clit.

"oh my... rose." i whimpered, moaning louder.

though she had no experience with girls, she ate me out expertly.

her tongue flicked over clit again, and made her way down to my entrance, slipping the tip of her tongue in, before pulling it out as fast as it went in.

i became a moaning mess, as she started to rapidly flick her tongue over my clit. my hands begged to lodge themselves into her hair.

"rose-" i cut myself off with a moan, "i-i'm gonna cum."

"hold it." she said, barely stopping her actions.

her movements became faster.

"mistress- i can't hold it for m-much longer!"

her hand reached up and pinched my nipple, before whispering, "cum for me, pet."

i released, and rose kept going through it.

"like honey." she said. kissing you with her lips covered in my juices.

"thankyou, rose."

"oh, you don't think i've finished have you? i told you i'd show you who you belong to, did i not?"

i nodded shyly, probably blushing.

"words please, darling."

"y-you did."

"you did, what?"

"you did... mistress."

"good girl." i whimpered at the praise, and she kissed me again.

"precious girl. praise kink, you have no idea how cute that is."

suddenly, she inched a finger into my heat, pulling moans out of me already.

"only one finger. guess the first orgasm made you very sensitive, hm?"

"m-mhm."

her finger curled, just as she introduced a second one. "oh my god, rose, it feels so good." you whispered, knowing full well she could hear you.

she pulled them out, and thrust them back in, repeating the action several times, forcing needy moans out of me. "aw, you're so needy it's cute."

"i'll let you cum, but if you don't do it in, hm... 10 seconds, i'll leave you for the night, deal?"

"deal, rose."

her lips wrapped around my swollen clit, and her fingers moved faster into a heavenly spot i didn't know i had.

her fingers tapped on my thigh every second and in between the fifth and the sixth, i released onto her face and i felt her grin into my heat. she gave my clit a final kiss, and pulled off the scarf.

her eyes were warm as she straddled my abdomen, smiling.

"you did so well, darling."

i pouted, "you didn't get to cum, rose."

she tutted, "i wanted you to feel good, honey."

"but i want you to feel good, rosie."

"well then, what would you like me to do?"

i frowned, "don't make me say it, rose."

she tapped my nose and crossed her arms over her chest, "then i guess i won't be doing anything."

i sighed melodramatically, "...sit on my face." i mumbled.

"pardon, pet?"

i went scarlet, "s-sit on my face, please." i said clearly.

"as you wish, darling." she said, mounting my chin, and gasping when my tongue darted up to meet her wet clit. breathe through your nose, i thought to myself.

i flicked my tongue against her cool clit, her body reacting by thrusting into my mouth. i tried flicking faster, and she grabbed the headboard, using it to help her grind into my face rhythmically. "such a g-good girl." she said, before the room descended into her moans.

"darling, i'm going to cum." when she said this, i laid my tongue flat onto her clit, and dragged it down her slit, until she released into my mouth.

she dismounted, and i smiled at her, "did i do good?"

"perfectly." rose said, while untying my wrists, throwing the ribbon elsewhere. "i'll be back in a moment, don't move."

thinking of your moment gave you butterflies, and true to her word, she returned with a soft wash-cloth, a pile of clothes in her hand and a dressing gown on her. she started of by wiping my face, and she then gently wiped my heat, trying not to over-stimulate me.

"get these on, and we'll get you a snack and a drink and afterwards i'll run you a nice bath, okay?"

"okay, i love you babe." i said, pulling on her slightly larger t-shirt on and a pair of my shorts.

she opened her bedroom door for me, "i love you too." she said, while wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me downstairs.

she lead you into the kitchen, where she gave you unneeded help onto a stool, and scuttled around for food.

alice, edward, carlisle and esme walked in slyly, emmett and jasper joining from outside.

"chocolate sound good, honey?" rose shouted from a cupboard.

"yes please!" you said, blushing from the cullens' collective smirk.

emmett and jasper hopped onto the stools either side of you, smirking, "so-"

"emmett, don't." edward warned, and alice gave jasper a smack round the head.

"whatever your thinking, don't."

esme and carlisle gave your shoulder a squeeze, adding more rouge to your blush.

rosalie handed you your favourite chocolate bar, and gave you a quick peck.

esme smiled at you, "camomile tea, dear?"

"yes please, esme."

edward wretched, "rosalie control your thoughts." he said childishly.

i almost choked on my chocolate, "babe, you better not be doing what i think you're doing."

"i would never!" she said sarcastically, placing a hand to her heart, "after all, you're mine."

my head fell into my hands as the cullens' laughed, "shut up rose!"

"here's your tea, dear."

"thankyou."

"i love you, y/n."

"love you too, rosalie."

alice snickered, "more like mistress and pet."

"ALICE!" the couple shouted, simultaneously.

"I knew you would!" emmett shouted at alice, picking her up and spinning her.

"we win!" jasper gloated, while the parental figures and edward just laughed.

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

Mrs Z! Thank you for doing a Flip special!

What about throwing Flip a big surprise party with lots of people and he’s not happy about it. You make it up to him by letting him have his way with you before you cut the cake. Maybe he’s too into and gets carried away with being loud and noisy or gets caught somehow and that’s his birthday party, is his guests cheering his bedroom antics or roasting him.

2.6k; humor & NSFW (blowjobs/face fucking, hair pulling, come swallowing)

“I don’t remember you forgetting anything here.” Flip frowns, as he pulls the Chevy into his usual parking spot at the CSPD.

It’s his birthday, and he hadn’t taken the day off of work to avoid drawing any suspicion, so he’s a little irritated that when he gets all the fuckin’ way back home to you, finishes having the delicious dinner you cook for him, and he’s just about to ask if you want to engage in a little birthday love-makin’, that you groan and announce that it’s urgent he take you back to the station.

He already gets sour enough on his birthday as it is, but he had hoped that he could enjoy a quiet -- or maybe not so quiet -- evening in bed with his wife, just the two of you tucked up against one another to distract him from the passing of time.

“It was my Pyrex, I left it in the breakroom, it should be in the sink unless someone moved it.” You’re too determined to get the damn thing back, and Flip loves you, so Flip drove you in his truck that he parks, eyeing his work.

“And you want me to go in and get it?” He complains, deep voice too gravely for it to be a true whine, “Can’t I wait in the car?”

“You’re going to abandon your most beloved wife in her hour of need?” Your eyes are wide and clear and he hates how he gets lost in them, how he meant it when he said he’d do anything for you. He hates how you know it.

“That’s not fair.” Jabbing a finger in your direction, you only lean forward enough to cup his cheeks in your hands, sweetly pressing chaste kisses to his lips, your lashes brushing against his cheek as you draw him in with the smell of your perfume.

“Please?” Your voice is breathy in the way that makes Flip go weak in the knees, and even though he knows he’s being manipulated, he’s not mad about it.

“Fuck, alright fine.” He gives in, making you brighten up immediately as he turns the car off so the engine doesn’t idle, being sure to keep the windows cracked even though Colorado in May is a balmy sixty-five degrees. “You just, I don’t know, sit here and keep being pretty.”

“Yes sir.” You wink, and Flip isn’t so sure he likes the twinkle that he sees in your eye.

Walking through the CSPD lobby, he notices it’s quiet.

Too quiet.

No one is calling in emergencies, no one is typing away at their desks, no one is chatting by the water fountain. Something must be very very wrong, and Flip halfway wonders if there was some kind of national announcement, if Ford was making a speech somewhere.

His suspicion only grows, when he turns the corner to the break room, and opens the door frowning to himself and muttering, “Why are all the fuckin’ lights turned off?”

When he flicks the light switch, he’s so startled that he takes a step backwards, as seemingly the entire station jumps up to shout in his face a big loud, “Surprise!!”

“What the fuck -- ”

“Happy birthday Zimmerman!” All his friends and co-workers are there, the guys from the narcotics division, the folks down at homicide, all the higher ups, secretaries, rookies and seasoned pros alike.

Everyone gathered in this room that is way too small for them, organized by someone to give him a goddamn heart attack. A hand gently rubs at his back, and Flip whirls around to see you there.

“Is this your way of saying you want a divorce?” He jokes dryly, making the entire room chuckle, because really only Flip would have this sort of reaction.

“For the record this was not my idea.” You say, not wanting him to think the blood is on your hands, “Ron insisted. I tried to tell him.”

Ron steps forward then and hands Flip a card, one that he’s not going to open now because he’s sure he’d die from the embarrassment of floundering with the envelope in front of all these people, but he does bring Ron in for a hug.

“It’s signed by all of us here.” Ron gestures with one of those big handsome smiles of his, the kind that shows off all his teeth, and Flip doesn’t have the heart to be angry about all this attention to his face.

“Thank you.” He says instead, feeling so fucking out of his depth, completely out of his element, palms sweating as he reaches for you with a quiet pleading, “Ketsl?”

“I’m right here.” You whisper as you take his hand, grounding him in the present.

Everyone is looking at him, and it reminds him of when he had to give presentations in school. He doesn’t know what to say, the tips of his ears going crimson red.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this.” Flip pulls you tight against his side, his arm stretching across your shoulders. Maybe if he just holds you close enough, he can use you as a human shield for conversation, he thinks.

“We had no idea it was your birthday! No one ever can figure it out -- but don’t worry, we’ve put it in your file so we know for next year!” One of the older secretaries, Ms. Rosie, cheerfully pipes up, making dread creep up Flip’s spine.

He looks down at you, and you give him a sheepish smile. He wants to complain like the grouch that he was, but then his attention shifts to the big table of food and drinks that is spread out on the table against the wall of the break room.

“...Is that chocolate cake?” He tries not to sound too hopeful, and the break room laughs again, because even the strongest most stoic man truly can be lured in by cake.

“I made it for you special. We’ll do candles after everyone’s had a bite to eat!” You announce to the room, patting Flip’s back as the crowd begins to murmur excitedly amongst themselves, a queue forming for the hot fresh pizza. You lean up to whisper in Flip’s ear, “If you can play nice, I’ll give you one of your presents before we get to cut the cake.”

Raising his eyebrows at you, he blinks a little. The surprises just kept comin’, didn’t they?

“Can’t I get it now?” Flip tries, but you only chuckle and shake your head.

“Go say hello to everyone, and then meet me in the back of the file room.” Patting his back once again, you slip away, an incentive for him to get this over with as soon as possible.

Flip doesn’t think he’s ever shaken so many goddamn hands, or kissed so many cheeks in his life. On the one hand, it felt nice somewhere deep down inside, to know that so many of his co-workers decided to take part of this party. He felt valued and appreciated, even if he would have rathered this never happen in the first place, would have rathered to be in bed with you right now...which brings him to the other hand; he’s achingly hard in his fucking jeans, thinking about what’s waiting for him in the file room.

He doesn’t have to wait much longer though, because soon the last person has been spoken to and thanked, and he’s excusing himself to go to the “bathroom,” heading in the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.

“Ketsl, honey?” Flip prompts softly, looking around for you in the low light of the room, “You back here?”

“Took you long enough.” Your voice sounds from around the corner, and like a glass of cool water on a hot day, there you are, arms reaching out for him.

“Would’ve been sooner if you hadn’t invited so many fuckin’ people.” Flip lets himself be wrapped up in your embrace, his palms smoothing around your sides to caress your back, one of them dropping down to give your ass a firm squeeze.

“Ron did, not me. Like I said, he insisted.” You remind him, kissing your husband deeply, licking into his mouth, voice soft and breathy, “Let me make it up to you?”

The hair on the back of Flip’s neck stands up when you sink down to your knees, not breaking eye contact. He holds his breath, his cock twitching at the implications of that motion, pulse already starting to pound a little harder.

You rest your cheek against his strong thigh, popping open the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down tantalizingly slow, making a real show of it. Flip hums, pets at your hair, smooths his palm against your cheek as he watches your eyelids grow heavy. You nuzzle against the palm there, suckling on his fingers just a little bit, teasingly, playfully.

“Oh fuck yes.” He quirks a little smile at you.

When you finally pull his dick out, you’re licking your lips, wetting them, drooling over yourself. He’s just as affected, pre-come already leaking out of the tip of his cock, and he groans when you swipe it up with your tongue. Time is of the essence here, and as much as you would like to drag this out, you can’t, so you cut right to the chase.

“Shit -- your moth’s so hot.” He grunts as your mouth opens wide wide wide for him, tongue flattening as you suck the head of his cock between your lips, careful of your teeth.

One of your hands braces yourself on his thigh, while the other holds the base of his cock, keeps him steady. Flip has a tendency to buck and choke you when he’s too wound up just like he is now, so the grip holds him in place as you swallow him down inch by inch.

Fuck, your husband’s dick is big! It’s not just long but thick too, the girth of it always something that has your jaw aching. You open your mouth wider to take him, relaxing your throat so that he can slip deeper and deeper, breathing through your nose. Never once looking away from him, you can see how antsy, how impatient Flip is getting, and if you could smile, you would.

But you can’t, because your mouth is filled to the absolute brim, so you tap the side of his thigh to signal that he can start moving.

“Yes!” He says maybe a little too loudly, “That’s it, oh fuck that’s it.”

And oh, does he fucking move. The second you’ve given him permission, he’s gripping your hair and thrusting hard. Moans and grunts pour out of his chest as he holds your head in both of his hands, keeps you snug against his groin. Your nose is nestled in his dark thatch of hair, and you can’t deny the way the musky smell gets you flustered, gets you wet. He’s not going to have time to fuck you properly here, but that’s okay -- this was only the preview of the evening to come.

“God you feel so fuckin’ good, my good girl, fuck -- ” Breathing hard and fast, Flip fucks your face hard, keeping you steady so that you don’t accidentally take him down at a wrong angle and splutter and cough.

Relaxing for him, you let yourself be used, the salty sweaty taste of his cock running over your tongue, plunging down your throat soothing and familiar in a fucked up way that only over a decade of marriage can bring.

“Fuck!” He snarls when your tongue wriggles against the veins that throb along his shaft, sucking down hard everything that you can, one of your hands moving to cup and roll his balls, “Oh baby that’s it, just like that, keep doin’ that, oh god your tight fuckin’ throat feels good.”

Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes when it becomes so much that your jaw aches, and you squirm, wanting to be touched, wanting to be fucked even though you know you can’t have it yet. Right now is about him, about the pleasure he gets from the way you suck him down, and then you’re swallowing hard, and the friction has him cursing loud loud loud, coming down your throat.

“Damn, ketsl!” he pushes his cock all the way down your throat one last time, before pulling away to watch his come shoot all over your tongue, your lips, your chin. Painting your face with it, he grunts, pulling your hair to angle your face up some more, a better view. You stick your tongue out for him, and another pulse of come bursts out of his cock from the sight, his filthy fucking whore of a wife, love of his life, on your knees like his own personal pornstar.

You fucking look like one anyway, and you sure as shit sound like one with the way you’re moaning and breathing hard, nipples so hard that he can see the way your blouse peaks out from over them.

Wiping away the come on your face and licking it off your fingers, swallowing every drop of evidence that you can, you and Flip grin at one another, his orgasm having him in a much more pleasant mood.

“We should get back out there, huh.” He gives you a hand and hoists you off your knees, pulls you close and kisses the taste of his come off your lips.

“People are gonna wonder where you went.” You smile, giving him your lovey-dovey eyes, glad that he’s enjoyed at least one part of this surprise. “You can’t disappear at your own party. How do I look?”

“Too beautiful for your own good.” Pinching your nose and giving you face a little shake, the two of you leave the records room behind.

“Well well well, if it ain’t the lovebirds!” Sergeant Trapp announces the second that you and Flip walk back into the main lobby of the station where everyone has spread out with their food and drinks.

“You two really can’t go two seconds without goin’ at it like rabbits, can you?” Ron laughs, teasing in a way that has Flip’s scowl coming back after all your hard work.

“Mrs. Z I gotta admit I’m impressed you’re still standin’, that sounded like quite the time.” Jimmy winks at you, and you slap a hand to your face. You hadn’t even thought about the noise that you must’ve made -- all the shelves moving, the grunts and groans, the cursing.

“Watch your mouth Jim, or I’ll be forced to do something about it.” Flip warns, but there’s something warm in the threat, playful. You’re fuckin’ glad for that, the last thing you needed on Flip’s birthday was him getting fired for beating the shit out of his friend.

“Oh yeah like what? I’m surprised you’ve got the energy for threats, old man.” Jimmy only eggs him on, all eyes on the two of them.

“That’s it -- ” Flip lunges immediately, making you rush forward and grab him by the scruff of his neck, preventing a wrestling match, even if a friendly one.

“Boys please, have some cake and maybe you’ll calm down.” You roll your eyes.

“You know,” Flip says later, when you lead him through to the breakroom where someone’s lit a fuckton of candles in an attempt to guess how old he is, and you’re curled up on the couch next to him as he licks the frosting off of his fork, “I’m starting to think there never was any Pyrex.”

And it’s all that you can do to just kiss him and shut him up, letting him get away with being an idiot because he’s your birthday boy.

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

Tagging some Flip friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #adam driver fanfic #adcu #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman smut

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

I Promise (I)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> Some people have the gifted ability of music; others of mathematics; some perhaps as persuasive argumentators. You have a “gift”, if one would like to call it that. It is the ability to know when somebody is telling a lie.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> hoseok x reader; ?? x reader (the whole gang joins at some point)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> mafia!au

𝔴/𝔠 >> 3.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mentions of drug use. nothing else much really it’s actually pretty tame right now

𝔞/𝔫: would you believe be if i said this whole thing was inspired by this singular gif? I lost my old account (rip old fics) but here I am starting new and writing again. Nervous, but please show some love

next part

The music is blasting in your room, and the bass rumbles causing your heart to beat to the rhythm of the song. However, your fingers are tapping to their own creation of a tempo while your other hand scribbles a note down on a piece of paper. It is the end of June and that means you have just received your paycheque.

“$9.74,” you repeat after your calculation, “I’ve got an extra $9.74 to spend.” You lean back in your chair and continues to bob your head. The wall behind you thumps to its own tempo; not of the song that is playing but its own rhythmic pattern. Your roommate is at it again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to drift. $9.74. You could get an extra meal. Or an extra drink at the bar. Or maybe you could just put that into your bank account. But that’d be useless, just sitting there. In the very distance, you hear the thumping of your roommate stop and its door creaks open. Another set of doors creak a couple of seconds later. You get out of your seat and open the door to your own room.

Seohyun, your roommate, brushes past you wearing only a pair of shorts and her favourite black laced bra. She walks to the door of the apartment and kisses the man on the lips before taking a drag of the cigarette she is holding in the other hand. He stands with a hand in his pocket and the buttons of his shirt undone. You watch as Seohyun bites his lip before ending the kiss.

“You’re the best,” you hear the robust mint-haired female say.

Cue the all too familiar buzzing.

“Love you, babe,” he says, kissing her one last time before leaving.

The buzzing halts.

“Love you too,” Seohyun kisses him one last time before gently pushing him out the door, closing it when he leaves.

And there returns the buzz.

Seohyun turns to walk back to her room and notices you standing there. “Hey,” she greets.

“You know, he actually does like you,” you comment, coming out of your room. You rub the back of your neck and rotate it once to get rid of the stress. Seohyun sits down on the brown couch in the small living room and takes out a tin box. She crosses her legs and rummages through its contents. A cigarette leaves its embers on the ashtray in the table in front of her. “Right. And I like him too,” Seohyun replies, taking out what she had been looking for, “Him and his drugs.” She shakes the white packet before opening it up. She sniffs the contents once and sighs. Making a motion towards you, she offers its contents to you.

You shake your head. You return into your room briefly to turn off the music and grab your phone and jacket. When you walk back out, you see that the packet is empty and Seohyun is passed out on the couch, fingers still speckled with white dust. You make a quick stop into Seohyun’s room to grab a blanket for her before locking the keys to the apartment.

Your apartment, technically. You had been the one to pay full payment and was content in living alone until Seohyun showed up one night, begging for a place to sleep. You couldn’t let her sleep outside so you agreed. That one night turned into a week and finally a year, where Seohyun still stays.

It isn’t like you didn’t enjoy Seohyun’s company. She is nice to be around, always engaging in some next level philosophical topic, particularly when she is high. It is, however, slightly annoying whenever she brings her “boyfriend”, or boyfriends at times, to the place, but you have learned to drown out their voices and actions by blasting your music. But what you like about Seohyun the most is that she doesn’t ask questions. The buzzing in your head is also always strangely quieter around the other girl as well.

You trudge up the stairs and immediately brings a hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun. It is about seven in the evening but still way too bright for your liking. You like the darkness night brought with it. Serene. Solemn. Locking the gate to the building behind you, you walk down the streets all the while rolling your neck due to its tense state.

No matter how many times it happened, you’d still feel its pain.

The lingering pain left as a reminder of your unique power; gift; thing. Whatever people wanted to call it.

You knew whenever somebody told a lie.

You would feel this strange buzzing at the base of your neck when a person said anything but the truth around you. The buzzing didn’t come every time you talked to somebody - you couldn’t catch all the lies that came out of people’s mouths - but it occurred often enough to be a nuisance to you. While the buzzing wasn’t painful in itself, it always caused your neck to be in sore pain. The pain was not indicative of how big the lie was, however. A lie that involved so many twists and turns that even its creator could not keep track would give you pain. A small white lie would give you the same pain. To you, it was just pain.

You quickly turn the corner and made your way down the stairs into the subway station. The man at the window gives you a small smile in which you did not return but hastily walk through the gate. One hour. It took 46 minutes to get to the station and another twelve minutes to walk. You had one hour. The subway could not be late.

You were not always a walking human lie detector. In fact, you had only been living like this for the past six years of the total of your twenty-six. At least consciously aware of this ability of yours for that time period.

If you really had to pinpoint when it started, you would connect it to approximately four more years prior to that: first year of high school. The prime time of adolescence.

You could hear the first subway leave, vibrations through the sole of your feet and its wheels screeching on the tracks. That left two minutes for you to make it to the opposite platform which was for the direction you wanted to go. You glance at the elevator you are currently standing in front of. It had not budged from “G” for a while now. You glance at the stairs just a couple of steps away. Sighing, you leave your spot and make your way down the stairs. One and a half minute.

The first year of high school sucked. Your parents had always screaming at each other and your brother was constantly skipping school. You did not want to be a second disappointment to your parents so you spent all her time studying in the library. It was also an excuse to be out of the house. One day, you returned home and found your mother crying on the steps of their house.

“Mom, did you and Dad fight again?”

Your mother did not meet your eyes. “Are you okay?” you had asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, trying to console your mother as best as a fourteen year old could do.

“I’m fine,” your mother answered. That was when you first heard a faint buzzing. It was strange for bees to be around their flowerless yard.

“You don’t look fine,” you had pressed on, “Will you and Dad be okay?”

Your mother shifted her position and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at you with a bruised eye and said, “Your dad will be okay.” The buzzing seemed to fade.

You patted the still damp cheek of your mother and hugged the fragile women. You slowly rubbed your mother’s back in small circles. “Mom, you and Dad will work things out. So promise me you guys won’t leave each other.”

“I promise,” your mother had reassured you. That was when you cried out in pain as the buzzing attacked you. Your mother had been alarmed and you had laughed it off, saying that a bee had probably stung the back of your neck while she wasn’t aware. The duo then got off the floor and held hands as together, you walked back into the house.

Your parents split a week later.

You had never found it in herself to forgive your mother after that. You hadn’t even known that you had been lied to until you really thought about it in your years as an adult. You just hated the fact that your mother had promised something that she had been planning to break. When high school ended, you picked a college as far away from your mother’s house as you could. You poured all of your time into your academics and never bothered making friends. Throughout the four years there, you had occasionally felt the buzzing but did not really associate it with anything around her. It only became prominent when you started working at your first job.

To any fresh graduate, this was a hire that was ever only dreamt of. It was a position with a high status in the company: Assistant Director of Internal Affairs. The company had been extremely impressed with your grades and all the extracurriculars you participated in. You had flown to three different cities outside of your own country as an intern and placed first in multiple conferences. It was no mistake that you had gotten in. You had been ecstatic when they spoke to you. You could finally move out of your mother’s house, in which you had temporarily been staying in while job searching; live in a city a thousand miles away from where she currently was, and was able to be somebody whom nobody knew about. It was your dream come true.

That turned out to be a disaster. Every day you went into work, the buzzing would surround you and send you moaning in pain to the bathroom. You could barely speak to any of your coworkers without wanting to strangle them and tell them to be quiet. You could not attend any of the meetings and you had to call in multiple sick days within her first week there. Needless to say, this affected your work performance and after an agonizing four and a half months, the company fired you.

Being without a job meant that you had no steady income. So, you moved out of the luxurious apartment you had just bought with your new salary and used the remaining money to buy the dank, run down one you were currently living in. You searched everywhere and finally found a waitress for hire at a bar close to the middle of the city. It was an hour from where you lived, but at least there you could dull the buzzing with alcohol. And this was how you lived for the past two years.

You cursed. You missed it. The subway left you in its smoke as you got off the last step of the descending staircase.

...

The other man was slouched against the pillar of the building, blood running freely down the side of his head while his hand tried to keep in the rest of his blood from escaping out of the hole on his side. He panted, gasping for whatever oxygen was available.

“Tell me,” the younger man towered over him, “Where did you hide the stash?” “I didn’t hide it, man. I swear. It’s where they asked me to leave it,” the bleeding man held his remaining hand in front of him in defense. “Please don’t hurt me.” There was a swish and cold metal sliced the air. He was not taller than the man, nor any stronger. But he had youth and a quick mind. More importantly, he had a weapon.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, so don’t make me do something I don’t want to do,” he crouched and put his face close to the other man’s. He pressed the knife against his throat.

The man whimpered as a thin line of fresh blood was drawn. “Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt me,” he said again, voice barely a whisper.

The two stayed in that position until the younger abruptly stood up. “Fine, I won’t hurt you,” he stepped back, “But it’ll be on you when she gets hurt.” His movement is fast and he grabs the wrist of the single other person in the station.

...

You stand with your back against the man, the knife held against your neck this time.

You dare not to move. You swallow once and glance down at the bleeding stranger. He is staring right back at you.

From movies and dramas, you know not to fight back in scenarios like this. You also know not to scream as this would agitate both parties. You return the strangers stare: “Help me”.

Your capturer’s voice rumbles through his chest and onto your back as he speaks, “Your choice. I can kill this girl and have it pinned on you, or you can just tell me where you put the stash.”

“Please,” the bloody man pleads, “I’m just a carrier. I don’t know where any of the merchandise is. I… I admit it, alright? I disobeyed the instructions this time. I didn’t leave it where they told me.”

You feel yourself being dragged closer to the subway tracks. Maybe you should kick or flail around a little. You try, but the man holds you steady. The blade is dangerously close to cutting your skin.

The bleeding man can only watch in horror as the other man stands precariously on the edge of the tracks. “I’m going to push her down,” he is warned. His mind was frantic. He had been told that his task would be simple. He did not know that it would involve another human being to be hurt in the process. His mind flashes back to his little girl, probably still waiting for her father in their small flat.

“I got another message right before I left,” he starts saying, “Please don’t hurt the girl. Please don’t hurt me. I’ve got a family.”

“Don’t we all,” the voice behind you drawls in sarcasm, “Give me another excuse of why I need to keep listening.”

You kick your assaulter. He grips you tighter. She look back at the bleeding man on the ground. He is still staring at you with wide eyes.

“The message told me that the location had changed. I wasn’t sure if I should trust it, but an hour before the pickup time, another note showed up on my doorstep and said that if I brought it to the second location, I’d get an extra $150, so I did it,” he continues.

You feel the tension in your neck slightly subside amongst the chaos. You kicked your assaulter again.

“Exact location. Now,” the voice demands.

“Corner of 16th and Main,” he stammers.

You kick a little harder this time, trying to wiggle out of the tight grip. It is really starting to hurt you. You feel yourself being pushed towards the bleeding man. Both you and your assaulter get extremely close to the man lying on the ground.

You sniff once and instantly regret it. Mixed with the blood, you can smell the acidity of urine. The man is now crying and you think you could see the pool around him widen ever so slightly.

“Please sir, I’ve told you everything that I know. I followed the instructions and left it there. I did not hide it. Somebody else must’ve used me to get it. I swear, Sir, I swear,” he holds his hands out and rubs them, a symbol of asking for mercy.

The two of you stand up, or rather you are hauled up for the man. The knife nicks your neck and you swear under your breath. You can feel the two men stare at each other for a long time.

“Scram,” the one behind her rasps. It takes a while for the bleeding man to stand, but adrenaline does wonders when the body is in danger. He limps out and up the stairs before he can be told twice. There is a rumbling in the distance to indicate that the next subway is arriving.

“There’s a train coming,” you finally talk, “A train means there’s people.” Your assaulter still does not let go.

“You’re hurting me,” you wiggled in his grasp. He loosens it and you finally get away. You turn and glare through your bangs at the man who has been holding you captive. You touch a finger to where the knife had nicked you, then examined it: there is blood.

The man standing has put his knife away. He is studying you with eyes as intense as yours while bringing the lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag and blows it in your direction.

Standing only a few inches taller than you, he is of slightly above average height. He wears the iconic baggy shirt and jeans of the common gangsters that prowl the area. Even in the dim light of the subway station, you can make out the tattoo of a dragon spiraling up his arm. He does nothing to hide the fact that he is affiliated with the mafia.

You are not particularly intimidating yourself. You stand at 164cm but wear a constant scowl. With your broken nose from a fall in your childhood, the feature makes your whole facial symmetry shift ever slightly to the left, accentuating the scowl even more. In a black t-shirt, black dress pants and black shoes, you wave her hand to rid herself of the smell of smoke.

“So, was he lying?” the man finally speaks after a period of silence.

“Fuck off, Jung Hoseok,” you growl.

#bts #hoseok #jhope #bts au #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #mafia!au #mafia!jhope #mafia!bts #jung hoseok #hoseok au

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yuulina-vre · 3 years

Text

The Walk

Fauna’s save heaven

Summary: Y/N wants to go for a walk, igrnoring the heavy rain outside.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Wordcount: 5.134 words

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Y/N sits on the couch in the living room, browsing through some magazines. She hums at some décor tips, thinking about adding some plants to her room and maybe some curtains to the common room, a new carpet would be nice too. The old one has some stains of indeterminable liquids that Y/N knows are the results of the many parties Tony had thrown. Despite this, it looks nice in these magazines. She turns the page only to cringe at the newest recommended diet for the perfect summer body, with pictures of women as thin as a stick. “Are people actually still falling for this shit?” She asks out loud, not concerned to talk to herself. Though, Natasha and Wanda look up from her own magazines to look at what she’s reading, then scoffing themselves and turning back to their own stuff that’s not really a better medium than hers. “What shit?” A deep voice startles her, not having heard someone approach her. She nearly jumps from the couch, the magazine falling into her lap as she clutches her chest over her racing heart and tries to keep the screech, that’s almost making its way out of her mouth, at bay. The urge to change and flee, or attack, rises in her gut but she pushes it down, knowing that nothing will ever happen to her here. The tall, muscular brunette that steps up behind her, apple in one hand and chewing on it, chuckles. “Jesus! Don’t scare a girl like that.” She scolds, taking a deep and calming breath. “Bucky is fine, but thanks.” He grins mischievously at her, even winks a little while wiping some of the apple juice from his mouth with the back of his hand. Y/N only scoffs, turns back, and picks up her magazine to show him. “I meant this diet shit in these magazines. That a woman has to be thin and fit to be able to wear bikinis at the beach. Only for men to attract. Who`s gonna fall for that? It’s not what’s important. Besides, most of these diets aren’t even helping or are backfiring as soon as you don’t follow it as strictly anymore.” Bucky looks over the page she who’s him, his eyes linger on the woman, then switch over to the recommended diet. “More woman than you think fall for it.” He chuckles again, takes another bite from his fruit before he rounds the couch to flop down beside her, eyeing her disgusted face. “Don’t worry doll, back in the day it was the same. My Ma always scolded Becca for falling for the magazines.” Y/N starts pouting at him and shoves the offending material of paper as far away from her as she can. “I don’t even know why people buy this? Is there no better thing than to read what some wannabe reporter thinks about celebrity relationships? They’re just people who want to live their lives in peace.”

“And because they’re celebrities everyone wants to know what’s going on.” Bucky reaches over and takes one of Y/N’s hands in his, squeezing lightly to reassure her. “You know you’re being followed as soon as you leave home. People want to know what you’re up to, too. It’s just natural.” He shrugs and presses a kiss to her temple but Y/N pout further. “Yeah, but I’m trained to slip by people unnoticed or lose them quickly. I know how to escape and only show what I want other people to see.” She crosses her arms for good measure. All she’s getting is Bucky’s chuckle and his chewing as he takes another big bite while he pulls her closer to his side. For a while, she just listens to Bucky eating and the girls silently turning page after page, sometimes scoffing and sometimes laughing at things they discover. It doesn’t take long for Y/N to get bored. If she had timed it, it probably took only about ten minutes or so. “Buckyyyy?” She whines, turning to him, puppy dog eyes already forming on her face, pout deepening a little. “Mhh?” He doesn’t look at her. She’s not sure if it because he knows what look she sends him or because he actually finds the page on the magazine, that she had pushed away, actually interests him. “Can we go for a walk?” The brunette nearly chokes on his apple, coughing wildly until Y/N quickly sits up to clap on his back hard, worry on her face. “N-now?” He chokes out, looking at her in disbelieve, face beet red from coughing. “I mean- yeah?” She shrugs a little, hand still on his back, rubbing absentmindedly. “Y/N! It’s raining cats and dogs!” Bucky motions to one of the windows with his hand still clutching the remains of his apple. She follows his hand with a sigh. It’s darker outside, the clouds hanging heavy on the sky, hiding the sun, emptying themselves at a rapid speed. The water runs down the glass and the splattering of raindrops against the window and ground sounds like small machine guns. “I know. But… Pretty please? You know I like running in the rain. And it’s not even cold outside!” She turns a little, pouting again and making big, pleading eyes at him that she knows he can’t resist. “Noo… Y/N. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like you smelling like a wet dog. Can’t you ask Stevie? Or Sam?” Bucky actually whines himself but Y/N continues to look at him. “They are not here. Please Bucky. Pleaaaase!” Her pout and big eyes get bigger, she now turns fully to face him, hands reaching out to place on the forearm of his metal arm, shaking it lightly with desperation. “Y/N…” He whines again, looking to the window to avoid Y/N’s eyes, but she actually whines as a little puppy would. She knows she got him now. “B-but... only for half an hour or so.” He lets his head hang in defeat but Y/N’s already throwing her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek ignoring the stickiness from him trying to eat an apple like a five-year-old. “Yes! Thank you!” She jumps up, happily clapping her hands in excitement before dashing out of the room, missing Bucky’s soft smile and Natasha’s eyes rolling in annoyance. They all tell him he is too soft when she asks for something but Bucky always tries to ignore it, claiming it's not true. He knows it’s true.

Y/N now dashes down the hall to the elevator, getting in and tapping her feet restlessly until the doors open a floor down again. Sam’s wandering down the hall, smiling as he sees her, “Hey /YN.”

“Can’t, Sam! Going for a walk!” She’s passed him with a grin before she’s finished shouting, rounding the corner, and sprinting for her door. She nearly pushes it out of its hinges as she shoves it open with some exciting force. She slitters to a halt at her bed, falls to her knees and gets the box with her supplies out from under it. The box isn’t a small one. It’s filled with collars and leashes, toys and treats, even some products like shampoo and conditioner or clothes, brushes, and accessories. Things she needs for her many animal changes. She digs around for a few seconds until she finds her favorite collar and leash. It’s a light brown one which is twisted at four different spots to look like it’s braided there. The buckle is silver just like the ring for the matching leash. Attached to the collar is a small round dog tag with her name and Bucky’s number on it. As Tony purchased the collar, they decided Bucky’s number would be best, since he’s the one to take her out as a dog the most, followed by Steve, though he doesn’t like for people to know his number. ‘They will spread it and I won’t have a calm minute to spend with my best guy and girl’.

Y/N makes quick work of getting out of her clothes putting them neatly on her bed. She won’t need them after changing but that doesn’t mean that she can’t put them on tomorrow. She probably won’t change back today, aiming for falling asleep on Bucky’s and Steve’s bed after dinner, cuddling up close to them.

She ties the collar around her neck, knowing pretty well how tight it needs to be so it won’t slip off. She has done it plenty of times by now that she thinks she could do it with closed eyes. She walks naked to the door, peeking outside to make sure no one’s actually in front of it or even in the hall before opening it just a tiny bit more to make getting out easier. She hates trying to open doors with her paws. It's frustrating at best. Then she closes her eyes and concentrates. While changing, she has to concentrate on the animal she wants to be, on how it looks, how the fur has to be, and how big she wants to be. Sometimes even on how the bones have to shift, especially if it’s a bigger or a really small animal like horses or hedgehogs. She feels herself shrink, her bones adjusting and her skin sporting soft brown and curly fur. The moment she opens her eyes again she knows she looks just like a beautiful soft brown Australian Labradoodle. She shakes herself happily to get the small ache out of her body before bouncing up and down, happily running through her room and then out of the door and down the hall once more. She barks at the doors of the elevator, dancing in front of it until FRIDAY finally opens them for her. Sometimes FRIDAY takes her time and Y/N swears that Tony programmed her to tease others. She’s impatient to finally move at a dizzying speed through the streets. When the doors finally open, she dashes inside, making sure the leash is all set in the cabin and not hanging out. She doesn’t want to choke and strangle herself. Then she nudges the button for one floor upstairs with her nose to meet with Bucky again.

Bolting through the doors of the living room once more, with a happy dance and lots of barking, she runs around, sniffing and jumping everyone. Nat, Wanda, and Bucky aren’t the only ones in the room anymore. Steve and Sam have joined them and somewhere off, probably in the attached kitchen, she can smell Tony. “Hey, girl. You really going for a walk in that rain?” Sam stands up only to crouch down again, clapping for Y/N’s attention. She runs up to him immediately, leaving Steve behind, and dances around him only jumping a little to lick his face. Steve always scolds her for jumping but she’s satisfied that he’s not saying anything right now, besides Sam’s laughing and all. She barks once as an answer just as Bucky starts grumbling again. Sam only laughs, scratching Y/N on all the right places and cooing at her, which will earn him some teasing when she changes back later. She likes teasing him for his soft spots. “How did you get Buck to go with you?” Steve raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his face as he watches Sam playing with her, nudging Bucky with his shoulder, too. “Puppy eyes.” Nat supplies amused scrolling through her phone. Bucky grumbles some more but soon has his lap full of a grown dog. Y/N has enough of getting patted, she wants to go outside and run in the rain! Torture Bucky too! Playfully, but carefully, she starts biting at his shirt and arm, trying to get the lazy mass of muscles to move his pretty butt off the couch and outside with her. As encouragement she whines a little, earning several rolled eyes and a laugh from Steve. Though he laughs more to tease Bucky. “Fine, fine. Stop pulling. Just gonna get my jacket.” Bucky sighs, runs his hand over his face through his hair. He throws a last teasing look to Steve but the blonde actually stretches out his tongue like a child and grins. Bucky pouts and flips him off while he stands up, and shuffles out of the room grumpily. Y/N can hear him curse himself but she’s not really paying attention, instead lying down next to Steve’s thigh. He cards his fingers over her back, still scrolling through his StarkPad. “You have to make it up to him later, Y/N.” Steve chuckles and pulls playfully on her ear, earning a growl back. “You know how much he hates the rain.” She huffs, knowing that Bucky really doesn’t like it. He hates being soaked the feeling of wet hair plaster to his skin and, most importantly, the wet metal arm that he has to clean up later on. She licks Steve’s wrist before settling again. She feels the calmness overweight the excitement again. She relaxes under Steve’s touch and starts licking his leg in pleasure, even if it’s making Steve squirm a little. “Y/N, come here.” She looks up from her spot, seeing Wanda pat the space on the floor beside her, the magazine still in hand. She smiles at her and Y/N thinks she sees something shining in her eyes, so she huffs out a breath, licking a last time over Steve’s thigh and wrist. Just as she had lied down! She gets up nonetheless. She loves Wanda. She’s always so careful, knows which spots are magical while patting and she’s never disgusted with what Y/N chooses to turn into. She jumps from the couch and walks to the young woman. Her tail waggles a little as she settles next to her, licking over her face to make her laugh. She settles with a goofy grin on her snout, head on her paws, and huffing in content. The woman runs her hand gently through her fur, paying special attention to the spot behind her right ear, which she knows is Y/N’s favorite spot. Her tail thumbs a rapid rhythm on the ground. She can hear Natasha and Sam chuckle, just as Tony leaves the kitchen and comes into the living room, smoothie in hand. He eyes Y/N for a second, then settles next to Steve who’s tapping away on his StarkPad.

From time to time Tony complains about all the hairs she’s leaving or her scratching the furniture and walls while climbing, sometimes leaving other… things… behind but today seems as if he’s alright with her being a dog. He even steals more glances at her than usual. Y/N suspects that he would like for her to come over so he can pat her. Too bad she’s actually comfortable on the ground right now. But she makes a mental note to come to him later.

Wanda loves animals. She always tries to find some room for Y/N to get the love she needs and takes care of the animals she’s turned into when Steve and Bucky aren’t around or are busy. It does help her to keep herself calm and Y/N knows Wanda would be lying if she wouldn’t pay close attention to each individual. When do you actually have the chance to see a tiger or chipmunk up close and can touch them?

Sam mostly likes to coddle her or take her running. He’s found a lot of times with her playing on the ground and stuffing her up with treats. When they both are gone then it’s clear that Sam took her for a post-mission run. It helps him and her to get pent-up energy loose, clear the head after bad missions. On rare occasions, he even takes her to the VA. She’s always excited.

When Tony doesn’t complain about her fur then he likes to ramble to her in his lab, just like Bruce. It doesn’t matter if she’s shifted or not, they’re just happy to talk, Tony more than Bruce, though. Bruce likes to stroke her fur when she’s a cat to calm himself down. More than once has Y/N shifted in the jet after a mission to help him calm down when she noticed that his music doesn’t work. Sometimes she keeps him company when he has to stay behind in the jet. Then they’re often found fooling around with some mind games. Y/N then has to keep her animal instinct in charge so Bruce can see how intelligent the animal itself probably is. Y/N likes it because it means she’s learning more about the animals she turns into. Tony builds her playgrounds in his lab, like small labyrinths or tube mazes.

Nat actually is a lot different. She usually doesn’t let anybody see her vulnerable side, besides Clint and sometimes Bruce. But Y/N once has shifted and sneaked around until she found her in one of the empty offices on the other side of the compound. Nat had sat curled up and shivering, breathing heavily because of a panic attack. A weasel, Y/N was small enough to come up to her. She had climbed in her lap and done everything she could to comfort the redhead. In the evening, while they all ate dinner, she hadn’t brought it up, just send Nat a knowing smile and nod. Natasha later caught her alone in the hall and had thanked her. Sometimes Y/N now experiences some mental breakdowns, fierce anger, and a lot of other things Nat normally wouldn’t have shown anybody and tries to help as best as she can. The most surprising for Y/N was that Nat likes to cuddle, though. Like Bucky she seems to be touch starved and, on some occasions, she can’t hide it pretty well.

Clint is… well Clint. He’s like an overgrown excited child, no matter which animal Y/N chooses to be he’s the one trying to play with her. More than once she had bitten him while he overdid it but Clint never held a grudge.

Under Wanda’s soothing touch Y/N nearly falls into a comfortable doze but the smell of Bucky’s returning scent lets her lift her head.

Bucky is one of her two favorite persons. She helps him just as much as he helps her. She knows he sleeps better when she and Steve are close to him, preferably in one bed, too. When Steve’s not there and Y/N is changed he can sleep almost just as good. Her animal form brings him an unknown comfort that her human form can’t while missing Steve. She suspects that, when Steve’s away and she’s not changed, that she reminds Bucky too much that Steve’s missing. So, changing it is then, it’s easier to pretend that Steve and she are away together and safe. Bucky never told her that it’s actually like that but Y/N guesses that it is. After the bad nightmares, he calms faster with a fluffy animal beside him, too. He doesn’t feel pressured to talk then. Also, Bucky is just as affectionate with her like an animal as a human. He presses kisses here and there, rubs all the right spots he knows, and just... is there. It helps that she’s in love with him and he with her. That’s why he can’t deny her anything.

Steve’s similar to Bucky and Wanda. He finds just as much peace in her changes, trying to draw her every chance he gets. That's when she stays still long enough, though. She is a really fidgety person and only stays in one spot long enough if she’s either comfortable, gets good scratches, is sleepy, or gets a lot of treats. Most of his art pieces about her animal forms are of her sleeping peacefully somewhere around the compound or on someone’s lap. But she loves those drawings. She made him copy some of them to hang up in her own room, which she only uses when she’s mad or feels overwhelmed and needs space for herself. Which actually happens a lot less in the last few months than it used to. Steve offered plenty of times to give her the originals but she always says that he should keep them for some sort of art portfolio. She stays with the copies. Steve actually enjoys the most of her changes, just as Bucky, in private. He sees more of them and Y/N isn’t opposed to change in front of both super-soldiers, with them being her boyfriends and all. Steve always tells her, that he likes to see her change. He finds it fascinating. Also, he can’t deny her anything but other than Bucky he never denies it.

Now her tongue lolls out, tail happily thumping against the floor as Bucky strolls in, scowl still on his face but clad in running gear and rain jacket. “Someone volunteering to accompany us?” He looks around but no one meets his eyes. A clear message. Y/N doesn’t take it, though. She stands up, nosing Wanda apologetically for leaving her but the woman only giggles and shoves her wet nose away. Then she walks up to Steve and sits down in front of him, right in his sight, head slightly angled with a whine and pleading look. She sees his eyes flicker to her and he pales a little, squirming. He can’t resist her, and she knows how to get him to confirm to go with them. “I… ehm…No?” Ohhh, his resolve is crumbling already. She doesn’t take his no. She whines again shuffles closer and places her head on his lap. The crease between his eyes deepens and his eyes flicker helplessly up, probably hoping someone’s saving him, but no one jumps in. Tony even smirks knowingly. “Okay, okay. Fine.” He groans, pushes his tablet in Tony’s hands, and stands up. He ruffles her fur before he walks past Bucky with a slight, but not real, glare. “I hate you.” His voice is muffled but Bucky laughs and Y/N starts jumping around again. She feels this itch to move growing, not being able to wait for a second longer. Bucky seems to catch it and whistles for her. “Ready beautiful?” She barks as confirmation, running up to him. Bucky grabs Y/N’s leash the moment she’s close enough and holds her back as she all but drags him to the elevator. He has his dear trouble to hold her still long enough for a grumpy Steve in rain clothes to join them in the entry hall before she starts dragging harder to get them outside, down the paths, and to the street by the forest. “Y/N! Stop dragging so much. You won’t get any air this way.” Y/N barks a little strangled but stops pulling. He’s right, breathing had turned out to be a bit of a struggle but she’s just so excited. The rain on her fur feels incredible. The air is warm and the rain is cooling, it smells fresh and the pitter-patter is a soothing sound in the background. She jumps happily through puddles, preferably the ones close to Bucky and Steve to try to get them as wet as possible. They both only scold her but she sees that they’re secretly smiling. And she caught Steve jumping in a big puddle that bucky just tried to not walk in, spraying him with muddy water. Bucky curses. “Dear God, Steve! Are you for real?!” The blonde only laughs. Steve looks relaxed and has Bucky’s hand in a loose grip, fingers interlaced. They walk for a little bit, chatting about everything and nothing while until the rain lets up a bit, though it’s still bad enough. At one point Steve takes the leash from Bucky with a distracting kiss and starts jogging slowly, leaving the brunette stunned, but for only a few seconds. He catches up pretty fast, even slapping Steve’s butt with a laugh. They continue jogging and Y/N happily follows. She likes running. The path guides them a little through the forest where the rain’s less heavy, due to the trees and leaves shielding them. Y/N takes some time to jump through puddles after Steve unleashes her and, to Bucky’s horror, rolls around in one particular muddy one. He’s in charge of cleaning her up this week and Steve gladly reminds him of that. Her light brown fur’s now a darker shade and she probably needs two baths to get everything out. Though, Y/N knows that that will lead to Bucky joining her in the tub, which then leads to soapy cuddles and doggy kisses while they relax. “Come on, doll. Please stop rolling in that. It’s cold and I’d like to go home now.” Y/N looks up from her happy puddle to see Bucky shivering. Both men are soaked through but Steve seems not to mind that much. She looks over to him and he only shrugs but nods. “We’re out for a while now.” She doesn’t feel the cold but Bucky’s wet from head to toe, his hair escaped his bun and hangs in his face, glued to his skin. Which he doesn’t like. She barks once and gets up, shaking herself and getting muddy water everywhere. She really doesn’t want him to get sick or freeze to death, so she lets him set his pace back after attaching the leash again. It’s not like she needs it but Bucky once said that he likes to have her on the leash. It brings a calm that he never really knew of. They nearly arrive at the entrance as Y/N suddenly stops. The pitter-patter is louder here. She looks around and finds a corner where the water flows from the roof in big fat streams. Excitement overcomes her, she barks, jumps happily from paw to paw, and looks at Steve, who’s still holding her leash, tugging a little. “What?” She tugs again, taking a step closer to the little waterfall. She sees the moment Steve realizes what she sees. An amused smile graces his lips. “Alright. You clean up a little while playing, yeah?” She barks loudly, performing a little dance after she gets the leash off, and then sprints over to the stream.

She runs under it a few times, watching the mud coming off of her and flowing on the ground to get spread by the rain. She even lies down for a second and turns in the puddle under the stream to get more mud out of her fur on every part that she can reach that way before standing back up. She jumps around a few times barking happily, then she tries to bite it. Snapping after it, as if it’s some sort of toy that gets pulled away at the last moment. She lifts her paws a few times to punch after the drops, getting water everywhere. The rain really is her favorite thing. The excitement doubles the longer she’s playing. Pawing at the water, biting, jumping back and biting again, then dancing around it only to repeat it. The feeling that she has is the one that she associates with being a little puppy. She feels happy and fidgety, the urge to hunt and play is overpowering everything else. She looks up to see Bucky and Steve grinning at her. Steve hugs Bucky close to warm him up a little, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder now and then while the brunette points his phone to her playground, probably filming her to show the others later on. She barks again and continues playing until a loud thunder blasts overhead, startling her. Y/N whimpers, having been scared to death, and rushes back to her men, pushing close between their legs to hide. Steve almost falls back with her force running into him but he catches himself quickly. “Holy, that was loud.”

“Hey, little one. Got scared, huh?” Bucky chuckles, passes his phone to Steve, and crouches down beside her, patting her head lovingly and tries to calm her. He presses a few kisses to her dirty head. “It’s alright, just the mean sound of a very angry nature phenomenon. It won’t be able to do something.” He knows she doesn’t like any sort of loud sounds, thunder being one of them. Past experiences in her childhood have led her to get startled easily when any sort of storm hits. Panic attacks have occurred more than usual in these times, and still do. Though, Bucky is always there to comfort and help her. In some way, she’s similar to his panic. Steve always supplies them with hot chocolate, food, and treats. She whimpers again as some lightning hits the darkened sky and presses herself into his side. “Alright, lovely. Let’s get you both inside.” Steve eyes the sky warily before he looks at her and Bucky, motioning for them to follow. “How about a warm, calming bath and maybe a movie? Steve can make the bed to a cozy hideout, hm?” Bucky looks her directly in the eyes while scratching carefully under her chin. Y/N licks over her nose, then over his wrist in agreement. It sounds like a plan and exactly like something she had thought of before going outside. The man smiles and opens the door to get her inside. “Alright, up we go. By the way. Tony says if you damage any furniture your banned from the compound for the next week.” He laughs loudly at her unimpressed face. They all know that Tony wouldn’t get it over himself to throw her out, not even for a minute. He would miss rambling to somebody too much.

Just as thought Y/N gets her bubbly cuddles with bucky in the tub before he gets her out again and passes Steve the towels to dry her off while he cleans the bathroom. Twenty minutes later Y/N lies snuggled up to Steve under the heavy blanket, her head resting on his chest while he watches the movie. She tries to doze, blend out the storm outside while the shower is running with Bucky in it. “You alright, beautiful?”

She whimpers a little and shuffles forward a little so her head lies nearly next to his. “Sleepy?” She huffs in his ear. Steve laughs but starts scratching her tummy affectionately. She closes her eyes, enjoying the touch and warmth. “Okay, then we take a nap.” One lick against his cheeks seems to be all the confirmation he needs. The TV sound gets lower and the blanket is drawn up a bit more. Steve’s arms come around her, hands burying in her fur, stroking lazily over her head now. “Sleep tight, beautiful.” She feels his hands on her until she slowly drifts off, thunder nearly forgotten. Only the dip of the mattress and Steve’s and Bucky’s silent voices get to her until she fully succumbs to her dreams.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Steve x Bucky #Bucky x Steve #Bucky x Reader #Steve x Reader #Yuulina writes #Steve x Bucky x Reader

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shotofire · 3 years

Note

hello ! how are you ? i liked so much the oneshot modern levi, that was so cute>\\\<, i would like another oneshot modern levi, when their girlfriend prank him with the challenge "call your man the wrong name" ( i think his reaction will be hilarious 😂) thank you admin-chan we love ya 💜

Oh my gosh hi friend! Your requests have brightened my day so thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it because it was lots of fun to write. Honestly I love you more anon :) <3

•MODERN!LEVI x F!READER

•Warnings: cursing

•Season: not set within the show

!Not Proof Read!

You weren’t big on trends and neither was Levi. Both of you didn’t have any kinds of social media, it kind of brought both of you down mentally to see how other people may live their lives. The two of you were happy the way you were and wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Then there was your close friend, Angel, who just loved to send and show you every video she found entertaining. She was a big social media person and kept up with almost every celebrity there was. You never understand the hobby but it wasn’t your life so it’s not like it affected you. Plus some of the things she showed you actually made you laugh, and sometimes you’d want to branch out to social media.

A few days ago Angel came to visit you while Levi was off running errands. The two of you watched some movies and caught up, talking about all the somewhat interesting things happening in your adult lives. Although she was much more out there than you were.

Of course before you were with Levi you were crazy just like her, but now you were settled and had fun in your own way. Besides, you found getting drunk on your days off with him and laughing about random things incredibly fun. Angel was just more of a go out and party type of girl.

It didn’t take long for her to start showing you videos she’s rounded up for this visit. Some made you laugh, others she had to explain because you didn’t understand it. You watched one of the videos and had no idea what the point of it was.

“Why is he getting mad at her for calling him Mike?”

Angel laughed out loud at your question and you started to feel a bit out of the loop. This happened sometimes and it made you feel old, but you had to remind yourself that you weren’t past thirty yet.

“It’s cause it’s not his real name,” she says like you should’ve known, “and he’s like,” her voice deepens, “who is Mike bruh?”

That’s when you laugh. Her explaining it was a lot more funny than the actual video was.

“Imagine if you did that to Levi, he’d totally freak,”she squealed.

You pondered the thought. Wouldn’t it be cruel though? You could only imagine the way your heart would feel if he said someone else’s name, but you couldn’t help but want to try it out. It was like a harmless prank, right? He’d find out almost as soon as it happened that you were joking and he’d probably tickle you as a consequence.

“Yeah he probably would,” you laughed.

She left a few hours later and you were alone with your thoughts. You wondered if you should do it. The video you watched were teenagers, was it immature to do? Well of course it was, but you were dying to see his reaction.

You grabbed your laptop and searched up, “Calling your boyfriend by the wrong name prank.” Tons of things popped up and you watched video after video. Each one made you laugh with the different reactions people’s significant other had.

The sound of keys at your door make you shut the laptop quickly and set it back on the table. Levi open the door with a small smile on his face and grocerie bags in his hands.

“Hey princess,” he said as he shut the door behind him and set the bags on the kitchen table.

“Hello,” you sang and followed him.

He started to take one thing after another out and you helped. You each alternated who ran errands so the other person could have some alone time. You lived together so having some time to yourself was extremely important. The idea was what contributed to you two being together for so long.

“What did you do today?” He asked as he started placing things in the fridge.

“Angel came over and showed me a million videos, and I cleaned a bit,” you answered.

The most cleaning you did was sweep and wiping the countertops, but you wanted to sound more productive. You couldn’t tell him about the videos you watched by yourself for the past hour and a half.

“Was going out alright? I know the store can be crowed on weekdays,” you say feeling kind of bad.

You’d been contemplating pranking him all day while he ran around and did things for you. Hey you still wanted to go through with it. Were you being soulless? Definitely.

“No, it was fine, don’t worry about it,” he smiled.

Levi reached into one of the bags and pulled out your favorite candy and laughed as your eyes widened. You did a little happy jump and grabbed it from him. He always liked to surprise you with little thing, it was something else that kept the relationship going.

“Thank you so much,” you can’t believe you were about to say it, “Mike!”

Yes, you went with calling him Mike. It was just the first thing that popped in your head because of the first video Angel showed you. You somewhat panicked last second as well so you didn’t have time to be creative.

His eyebrows automatically pressed together as his mouth parted in a scowl. He shut the fridge door and stared at you for a second as if he wasn’t sure you had just said some random name he’d never heard before.

“Um,” he takes a step closer to you, “who the hell is Mike?”

It was so hard not to laugh. His stance was so serious and his voice had reached a lower octave. Oh and the face he made was absolutely priceless and you wished you could’ve taken a picture.

“What?” You asked completely confused, as if you hadn’t just said Mike.

His nose crinkled in annoyance and he shook his head. He didn’t say another word, only grabbed more groceries and put them away. He’d convinced himself that he misheard you. It’d been a long day and he’s been moving non stop, and it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

“I was thinking of making grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner, does that sound good to you?” He asked with a smile.

You were confused now. Had he not heard what you said? Well of course he did, he asked you who Mike was. Maybe he thought he heard you wrong, that had to be it. You nodded at his question with a smile and helped put everything else away.

Later as he was making dinner and you two talked about random things you decided to try it again. Him not giving you a better reaction earlier kinda bummed you out. You felt even more immature to try it again but what was the worst that could happen?!

He wasn’t the jealous type whatsoever. There was no need to get worked up if he knew you were his, and had been for some time now, and he was yours. But deep down you knew if you pressed the right buttons he’d act different.

“The food smells so good Mike! I can’t wait to eat it!” You said in a cheery voice.

He pressed his palms against the counter top across from where you were sitting. His eyes are narrowed this time with his eyebrows already being knitted just like before. Teeth bite the inside of his cheek as he just looks at you with intimidating eyes.

You becomes antsy under his glare. You’d expected him to say something by now but he stayed silent. Was he observing you? Thats what it seemed like.

“Mike?” He finally questions.

In that moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore. He’d never reacted to anything like this before and it was priceless. His foot had even started to tap on the ground as the jealousy and anger started to bubble up inside of him.

Laughter pushed past your lips and his face had never looked so lost.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with an annoyed tone.

You wrapped your arms around your stomach as you laughed even harder. Levi leaned further onto the counter to become eye level with you, his features were basically asking you, ‘Are you crazy?’

“Oh my-“ you were cut off by more of your own laughter, “Your face, It was so funny! I can’t believe i actually got you!”

He started to understand, you were trying to mess with him and it totally worked. He started to pout and turn away from you, arms crossing. You giggled at his action and got up to wrap your arms around his middle.

“I was just joking,” you say while still letting giggles out, “I love you lots, not Mike. I promise.”

He ruffles your hair and hugs you back, finally letting himself laugh as well. You were going to have to give him lots of a lot for how much you’d just scared him.

“What even provoked you to do that?” he asked with his arms still around you.

“Angel showed me some video of-“ “Yep, she’s not allowed to come here anymore,” he says jokingly.

You looked at him with a frown and he only laughed more. He pecked your nose with his lips and you scrunched it up before kissing his chin.

“You owe me a better kiss than that!” He says with a shocked expression.

You scoff and press your lips to his, he could be such a softie. You may have to try some of the other things Angel had shown you, but Levi might just have a heart attack.

His fingers started to attack your sides and you squealed, this was your punishment.

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years

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today i astral project giant, curious merboy w/ frightened researcher into your mind. tomorrow? who knows

Tomorrow is when you get your request filled you babey boi

“E-easy now, l-let’s ju-woah! Hey!”

It was too late for Stella’s squirming to do her any good as long, clammy fingers tightened themselves around her already battered body to lift her much higher than she would have appreciated. She couldn’t help a small wince when she felt her arms be uncomfortably squeezed against her ribs, the left side of which was undoubtably bruised from her topple earlier. The grip only pressed more at her pathetic struggles, forcing out her exhale much rougher than intended.

“Pl-lease,” she gasped, practically immobile in the creature’s hold which seemed to be the desired affect, “y-you’re hur-hurting me...!”

And just like that, the pressure that had once been constricting her disappeared. Even more wonderfully, solid ground seemed to return under her shaky legs which she was grateful to collapse. Or so she thought. A couple inhales sucked in to clear the splotches that pulsed in the corner of her vision revealed she had merely been traded from one hand to the other, trapped high above in an open palm as opposed to a clenched fist. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she supposed.

Or fish, she supposed again.

With a shaky sigh, Stella forced her eyes up (and up and up) until they met with wide ones, blinking down at its tiny capture. She couldn’t keep up the staring contest very long, however, not with how unnerving those black scleras were. Instead, she found her gaze shifting towards its mouth that could certainly fit her inside in one bite, perhaps even a rowboat if it tried. At that moment, it chirped at her, something loud and grating and immediately making her cover her ears for protection, but not without getting a glimpse of those jagged fangs.

From a scientific standpoint, this was one of the most stunning discoveries in her career, hell, in anyone’s career in the history of marine biology. A genuine mermaid...er, man, if she were to assume based purely on physical observation. A dozen questions ran through her mind focused on understand how on earth each component of his body functioned. Respiratory, circulatory, vision, hearing, homeostasis, smell, bone structure and density, muscle to fat ratio, everything and more!

Unfortunately, she doubted those inquiries would be answered anytime soon, if ever.

The monster chittered again much more quietly, practically a rumble in his throat as his other hand hovered closer. Try as she might to flinch away, there was really no where else to go besides down into the icy waters below. She watched the thick claws adorning each finger inch closer, bracing for the sensation of being flayed like some sort of sick vengeance for all his seafood brethren she had ever eaten. Actually, given his size and muscular build alone, there was no way this thing was a vegetarian, so there better not be any judgement on that front!

Surprisingly enough, the claws just missed nicking any part of her skin in favor for the pad of his finger to rub against the top of her head, slowly, hesitantly even. Stella grimaced at the action but let it be, holding still as best her trembling form was able to while his petting built up more confidence, now sliding from her crown to where the coils ended at her shoulders. She let out a yip when he yanked her hair in an attempt to rub the foreign texture between his thumb and forefinger, immediately releasing the frizzy locks at the sound of her distress.

His curiosity didn’t stop there, however. She was well aware of the irony of the situation--the researcher being studied by the subject and all that (at least, she hoped that’s what he was doing rather than sizing her up for a meal). Considering this was her first time ever encountering a merperson during one of her weekend escapades along the coastline, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine this was his first time meeting a strangely sized hybrid species as well. Maybe those local legends about sea monsters and sirens held a little bit of truth after all, he was certainly as destructive as the stories foretold of these deadly creatures.

And, the scientist side of her couldn’t help but reason with the merman. She was, after all, encroaching on his natural territory in a foreign vessel, was it truly so unexpected for it to attack? ‘Attack’ was perhaps too strong of a word. Investigate was more like it, the way it grabbed and shook her tiny boat in an effort to see what was inside this weird, floating habitat until she came tumbling out on deck. On the bright side, at least Lorelei coming down with strep the night before saved her research partner from meeting the same fate as her right now. On the downside, she was going to meet said fate alone, her true ending forever a mystery outside of these waters.

The question was: what the hell was her fate meant to be? The way his fingers and touches roamed her body continued to reassure her that she probably wasn’t going to be a menu speciality for another few moments, but beyond eating her, what other uses could he have for her? He pinched her legs and arms to bend at the joints, especially fascinated at how articulate her lower half was in comparison to his own. It was almost like he was looking for a tail where one should obviously be, trying to piece together how these two split fins could work together as one. His fingers brushed against her waist and trailing up to her neck. Gill placement, maybe? From just how close his nails were coming to her jugular, Stella feared she might just get a few extra breathing slits if she so much as hiccuped.

It was all well and good until the fingers glided back down over her chest, pushing past the soaked lapels of her coat to the swell of her cleavage, his claw eagerly slipping under the buttons of her blouse to pop a few off. Stella turned bright red, her body heating up so much that she was sure he could feel it against the cool flesh of his palm where she sat. With an indignant shriek, she slapped the digit away from her body, quickly covering herself with her lab coat as best she could.

“No, thank you!” She scolded, leveling a glare with the creature. “Don’t do that!”

She didn’t even have time to register what consequences might befall her actions of threat displaying a massive sea predator, not with how his ear fins flattened against his head and he jerked his hand away as if she had burned him with her touch. In his defense, he did look rather guilty, rumbling again in his throat like he was offering an apology. He tilted his head at her, repeating the noise and it was then she realized he probably didn’t actually know what was wrong, rather he was asking why it was wrong. Oh, yeah. Different species, different cultures, different takes on reproductive accessories.

“You just, y-you don’t touch people like that, okay?” He grumbled something at her and though she didn’t understand it, she knew that tone well enough to roll her eyes. “Because I said so. Why d-”

Stella froze. The monster was still pouting at her reply, but her lengthy pause paired with her suddenly shocked expression made him chirp again in question. She searched his eyes, now well aware of the deep blue iris hidden within the inky abyss around it.

“You...c-can you understand me...?”

He furrowed his eyebrows before giving a single nod. Uh, yeah, duh? I’ve been responding to you this entire time, haven’t I? is what the expression conveyed.

“Holy shit...” she whispered. A smile was quick to tug at her cheeks, looking back at him with twinkling brown eyes. “Holy shit! You can understand me! Y-you’re...you’re intelligent!”

The creature narrowed his gaze and she quickly held up her hands in a placating motion. “I-I mean, obviously, you were always intelligent, just i-in terms of, like...you know, whatever, let’s just start over, um...” She ran a hand through her newly tangled mess of curls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god, I don’t even know where to begin!”

A quick look down at her capsized boat had her reconsider. Stella wondered how much of her research and equipment inside was totally trashed as a result of being broken or waterlogged. Oh well. Literally none of that mattered right now, not when filters could be replaced and notes reprinted and one of the greatest specimens of her lifetime was three inches in front of her.

Biting her lip, she glanced between the boat and the merman. “Actually, do you, um, think m-maybe you could fix...that? And maybe put m-me down while you’re at it...?”

For a moment, he only blinked at her, silently debating her request. It was long enough to make her start to shift nervously, wondering if she had managed to misread the entire situation and was foolish to make such demands when she was still considered a food source. Thankfully, he complied and righted her boat with ease, gently depositing her on the slick deck. The rocking of the sea still caused her to slip and fall ass first on the ground, though it mattered little to her with the way her legs still felt like jelly.

A shadow engulfed her, trilling ringing in her ears from above which made her groan. “I’m fine, just...give me a minute here.” Slowly, Stella sat back up and pulled her legs towards herself until she could sit criss-cross, digging her (thankfully) waterproof handheld from her pocket to pop out the stylus, tapping and scribbling on the screen. The creature lowered himself deeper into the water until only his shoulders and above were visible, swimming around to the edge of the boat to try and see what she was doing on the tiny device. He braced his hands on the side of the hull, nearly capsizing it again, which was probably what he did the first time when she had been down in the cabin, and only letting go when Stella cried out at being toppled for the umpteenth time.

When the boat ceased most of its swaying, she fixed another sharp glare at the creature who hunched a little further into the salty waters. “Okay, rule number one, no more touching this boat. Got it?” She was half tempted to add or me in there, but...well, they could cross that bridge if something came up about that later. Regardless, he nodded at her and she sighed, repositioning herself to lean against the cabin door for a little extra stability.

“So, ever play twenty questions?”

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t fluff #my writing #giant/tiny #gianttiny #macro/micro #ask #ratpaps #mermen babyyyyyyyyy #another story in which i name my characters after my favorite students lmaooooo #send more prompts this is fun :D #yes i specifcally called you baby to piss you off nerd #also yes i spelt specifically wrong but i dont feel like deleting and rewriting the tag

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 3 years

Text

Satisfaction Brought it Back - TEASER

The one where Lena ghosted Kara rather than going villain, Kara went into reporting on human rights abuses in warzones and Lena started a project to take medical information for aliens and their anatomy to help human hospitals.

And then volunteer Subject 99 walks in for a full exam and Lena wonders if she can pretend she's doing anything other than "playing doctor" while learning about Kara's unique body. But her traitor heart just wants to play house. SEE THE REST HERE: https://www.patreon.com/posts/56078508 ===== Alana helps the gray-scaled Jorviunan gentleperson down from the exam table. Five genders on a three-pole gradient, the species file says. Subject 98 uses he/him according to the survey. But it's not right. She's gotten enough peripheral glances of herself in a ballroom's mirror, gritting her teeth and using the identity of least resistance when one of Lillian's friends slid a hand around her back. Lena's been in both the human medicine and xenobiology games long enough to know when a word tastes bad in someone's mouth. Or fangs. Or pincers. Or feelers. Or bioelectrically charged water-filtering membranes. Subject 73 was a Vyllnat who rolled in the other day who looked like she belonged on a Wikipedia article about the Dykes on Bikes movement with the zinger being that her partner was checking in for the session in the next bay during the same time slot. Mating for them involves snuggling close and sharing body heat until their physiologies sync up enough to allow genetic material to simply seep through softened skin. What Lena thought was a rather plain leather riding jacket was, in fact, skin that just looked like supple black leather. Membranous flaps that adults use to seal each other's bodies in an airtight embrace during one of these sessions. A mutually embarrassing moment involving Lena stumbling and nearly wiping out with a tray of sharps and some accidentally-spit acid revealed the tight jeans were really fifteen feet of muscular tail as thick as Lena's waist trailing behind 73 in a holographic concealment field. Lena even weaseled her into letting her take 3D scans of all five sets of interlocking fangs and slicing teeth and a venom sample.

Late that night, Lena might have put a few minutes of Clash of the Titans on loop while she got herself off. Sue her. The idea of reproduction by snuggling is even gayer than a race of medusa-ish beings who come in three flavors of what could only really be called female in a human framework.

"Next subject?" Lena asks, looking up at Alana who is tapping some commands to the repurposed attack drone of Lex's they use to burn any biohazards off the equipment.

"iPad," Alana replies, her eyes sparkling a bit too much as she directs three streams of particle-dissolving energy. Lena sometimes gets a distinct whiff of Kate McKinnon's character in Ghostbusters, except that not only is Alana weird and unapologetic and intense, she's also a first-generation immigrant. She tears through American pop culture like Kara tears through potstickers, so Lena's never 100% sure if Alana's showing up in an outfit that looks like business-safe cosplay on purpose or not. Some city in Nigeria is missing their resident mad genius, to National City's benefit. ===== "Uh, hi."

Rude, is all Lena can think at first. She had heard through the 'DEO to Alex to Kelly to the group texts of doctors who deal with aliens' pipeline that Supergirl had gone from on-patrol to emergency use only around the time that blogs gushed about one of CatCo's human passing journalists coming out as alien and then leaving the company. She was trying very hard not to stalk Kara's Instagram at the time so she didn't follow up. Something something independent reporter in the field somewhere somewhere bringing attention to the plight of someone someone.

Lena only avoided full-on alcoholism over the last year by screening out all reminders of Kara's existence, which let her pretend. Which didn't make it hurt any less when Jess came into her office a few months ago and said that Kara Danvers had come by to ask if Lena had gotten a new cell phone. Kara's first thought wasn't Lena being a cruel, overdramatic mess of gay thirst and Luthor trauma. She trusted Lena's good nature, so her first thought was clerical error.

Kara seems to have taken being ghosted in stride because she spent the last six months getting somehow even hotter than she already was, which probably violates some United Nations Convention on placing dangerous pressure on the human body or something.

Her hair is the same length, but it's tied in a hasty ponytail that's tied off with a scrunchy made of honest-to-god paracord the same crimson as her cape. She's let the curl come back in--how did she straighten it, anyway?--so it doesn't look like Supergirl's sheets of gold more suited for a damsel in diaphanous silk than the halo of an avenging angel. What it evokes is a stallion's mane, glossy in the harsh light and waving as the beast moves.

The dresses that never suited her are gone, and the button ups are back but now they're a thick flannel or something worn half-unbuttoned over a burgundy tee shirt that clings tight and reveals the corners of the suit's breastplate underneath. She could trace the glyph through it, which means if Lena could only get her out of the damn suit, it would revea--FOCUS, she reminds herself--and rather than CatCo-required chinos Kara is in black denim that hangs loose at rest but molds to her muscles when she walks over to put her coat across the 'patient clothing' rack. Each flex and tense tells Lena way too much about how powerful her thighs are and also not nearly enough about what it would feel to have the--FOCUS, Lena--and Jesus take the wheel Kara's even wearing combat boots covered in a fresh coat of pale dust that could just as easily be from a hiking trail north of town or a warzone in Somalia.

"It's funny. On the plane, back from Kasnia? I almost told you."

When she couldn't stop fidgeting with her glasses. Her hair was a mess when she escaped from the Eve clones. She had her glasses off and her hair down and she was going to show me... Lena realizes.

She makes a sound she doesn't even recognize and suddenly she's in Kara's arms, her knees sting from hitting the floor before Kara knelt with her. She's slapping ineffectively against the protective firmness around her and watching her own tears fall like it's happening to someone else.

Kara shushes her and rocks her back and forth and doesn't ask before kissing her forehead. Lena doubts she thought about it consciously. Maybe when she is released, she can complain about lack of consent or maybe she'll demand another kiss to make it all better.

=====

"Lena, I really can't do this. Not like this, not with you."

Reality slams down around Lena like the doors in a haunted house closing.

"Of course. I can schedule you with Alana or per-"

Kara molds her hands to Lena's hipbones and pulls her into her arms. She takes her with force, cupping Lena's head and holding her fast. She nips at Lena's lip and uses the moan as a chance to lick into Lena's mouth. Hot and wet and impatient, her tongue seasoned with ginger and orange and grease, cut with the waiting room mints. She kisses like she eats, greedily and curiously and bottomless. Kara hums and holds and presses and licks and nips and sucks. She brings one hand up to Lena's neck and curls around her pulse, rubbing her thumb along Lena's windpipe. She doesn't seem to notice or care that Lena can't do this forever because Kara wants to do this forever and fuck human failings like a need for oxygen. Lena has to bite her tongue to get her to retreat. It would've drawn blood on a human but Kara just moans and pulls back.

"Christ, Kara."

Kara licks her lips lazily. The chilly blue that reminds Lena of ice caps and winter skies is darkened and her pupils are swollen and fucking hell Lena can even see little white crackles in the depths of them, rising towards the surface like caged lightning.

#supercorp #soft butch #kara danvers #lena luthor #alien fun bits #supergirl

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madnessinwrighting · 3 years

Text

When They Know (You're the One)

(Summary: There's a moment, one distinct moment, when you know you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone. This is the Avengers (plus Loki and Bucky) having those moments.

Reader Insert, inspired by an imagine I have long since lost the link too. Open to writing a part two for the other characters.

Notes: Hey all! This is something I've pretty much sat on for a year, but the convincing of two best friends has pushed me to post it. Basically, it's just a quick bite of little moments with each Avenger, with a reader insert. Yes, it was slightly self indulgent. Hope y'all enjoy.

Read on AO3

Steve

It was how you welcomed him home.

He comes back to your shared floor in the tower after a day of meetings. He was tired, and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and wait for you to come back from your training with Wanda. He paused when he heard music softly playing. Glenn Miller’s "Moonlight Serenade" drifted around the corner, pulling Steve into the living room. His guard dropped when he saw you curled up on the couch in one of his sweatshirts, book in hand. Regina, your cat, and Doger, his dog, were laying at your feet.

Steve was always captivated by your beauty, but in this moment, with your attention completely held by the book in your hand, thinking no one is watching you, is when he found you the most stunning. Before he could clear his throat to let you know he was here, you glance up at him. A breathtaking smile broke out across your face as you got up to welcome Steve home. It was in that moment, he knew that he would never let you go.

Tony

It was in your careless beauty after an event.The two of you were in his room, lounging on his bed, after the monthly Avengers Gala that Stark Industries held. Every month, the Avengers and Stark Industries held a fundraising Gala to help different organizations in need. It had been your idea; being the Avengers PR person, you had proposed the idea after seeing the growing interest the public had in seeing the “real life superheroes” more, but still being unsure of the Avengers after New York and Sokovia. The galas let the general public mingle with the elite, all while the Avengers mingled with both. (You had started to notice how much the heroes spent less and less time with the elite and more with the general public (especially Steve and Bucky)).

You were wearing one of Tony’s button ups and a pair of pajama shorts. A champagne bottle rested against your leg as you grabbed for another slice of pizza. Tony laughed at you; you were always hungry after the galas. He reached for a slice too. He glanced up at you as you took a bite, just staring for a moment. Your hair was in an imperfect bun, wet strands falling around your face from where you missed a few pieces after your shower. There was a smudge of black under each eye from leftover makeup. As you wiped some sauce from the side of your mouth, Tony could see where your fingernail polish had started to chip. You noticed his staring. “What, playboy? Do I have something on my face?” He laughed at the nickname. Any other time, he would have sassed back. But the whiskey that had been coursing through his veins finally reached his head. Or maybe it was your beauty. Maybe it was a combination of the two that made him say, “No. I just realized I’m going to marry you someday.” You rolled your eyes at him, laughing. You thought he was joking. But Tony knew the truth, and that’s all that mattered; for now.

Clint

It was how you interacted with his kids, and how you could read him.

He had just come back from a mission. He and Nat had gotten banged around, nothing serious, but he knew his ribs were going to be hurting for a few days. He heard laughter the moment he stepped off the elevator to your shared floor. His smile grew when he saw you and his kids in the process of building a blanket fort, you standing carefully on a leaning chair to get the blanket on a high hook. Lila hid her face behind her hands as you made a show of “almost” falling, before doing a flip and landing perfectly. Little Nathaniel clapped his hands as the three cheered. The four of you took a step back to admire your work. The three kids all come in close to you, Nate hugging your leg. Your hand came down to play with his hair. You all talk quietly about what to add. Clint’s heart clinches at the sight. While his and Laura’s split was mutual, and they still cared for one another, it had been hard, for both them and the kids. To see you interact well with the three people that made up a big portion of his world, and them to do the same with you… Clint really couldn’t ask for more.

He caught the repetitive tapping of your fingers on your leg. “Take your time. Love you.”

Natasha

You learned Russian for her.

Any time she came into the room when it was just you and Bucky, the two of you would stop talking and a red hue would cover your cheeks. It didn’t take a spy to know you were hiding something. At first, Nat had a fleeting thought that you might be cheating on her, but she knew you, and knew Buck, and knew that that wasn’t the case. So she let the secret go for the time being; well, that’s a lie. She actually decided to turn it into a game and see if she could find out what it was that you were keeping from her. But sneaking up on the Winter Soldier proved to be difficult, considering most of her skills she had learned were from him.

She thought she had figured out a way to catch you. She was thinking through her plan while making her coffee that morning when your arms snaked around her waist. She smiled as you rested your head on her shoulder, placing a kiss on the bare skin. “Доброе утро Любовь. Спать хорошо?” you asked.

“конечно, ты был следующим -” Natasha froze as she processed what just happened. She spun in your arms to face you. “That’s what you and Barnes have been doing?”

“Yes. Were you going to say because I was next to you?”

“Yes. Why are you learning Russian?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because of you, silly. Your Russian, are you not? And while most of your Russian adventures are in your past and not really you anymore, they and Russia are still a part of you. I love every part of you and want to know every part of you, so I asked Bucky it he would be willing to--”

Natasha cut off the rest of your explanation by placing a kiss on your lips. If there were tears on her checks, neither of you mentioned it.

(Translation: Доброе утро Любовь. Спать хорошо? - Good morning, love. Sleep well?конечно, ты был следующим. - Of course, you were next -- Done with Google. I'm sorry if they are incorrect. Please let me know if they are so I can fix it.)

Thor

You didn’t treat his brother like a villain.

None of the team was thrilled when Thor announced that Loki would be coming to live with him on Earth. But considering the alternative was for Loki to be executed, Thor convinced them to allow Loki to stay in the tower. But of course there were rules. Loki and Thor accepted these; Loki just wanted to leave the place that never felt like a home to him, and felt even less so now, no matter what his mother did to try and help. Thor was excited to see you once again, to be able to be with you once again, but he worried about how you would react to Loki. You had been badly injured when the Chatiri attacked. Thor loved both you and his brother; he wanted, no, needed you two to get along.

When the time came for Loki to move in, all the Avengers were waiting in the teleportation room. The alarm alerted you to the brothers incoming arrival. You all shielded your eyes as the Bifrost opened. The blinding light cleared, leaving the polar opposite sons of Odin in its place. Everyone stayed still for a moment. You rolled your eyes at all of them before throwing yourself at Thor. He caught you with a laugh, spinning you around.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should have chosen execution.”

You sensed the movement of the team tensing and gripping their weapons. Placing a kiss on Thor’s cheek, you walked over to Loki. You knew he recognized you from when he fought against you during the Chatiri invasion; you also knew it wasn’t his fault. Hardly any of the New York Attack was Loki’s fault, directly. Knowing that, you placed your hands over both of the bracelets on his wrist, said a small incantation, and melted them away. You felt and saw Loki’s magic return to him. His eyes were swirling with questions. All you said to him was, “No one, not a single being, deserve to be cut off from something that makes them whole.”

Thor had tears in his eyes. He had been trying to convince others that his brother wasn’t the enemy, and here was the woman that he loved, showing that she believed that too.

Bruce

You loved him despite his inner demon.

Bruce Banner had felt ever since his… accident, that he was very much two different people. You once joked he was a modern day Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Tony thought it was hysterical, Bruce not so much). Despite his green friend always being just under Bruce’s skin, you never once feared him. The Hulk and Bruce were one person, and that was something you accepted very early on; Bruce knew he loved you then.

But the moment he knew he would spend forever with you was when you didn’t shy away from his true inner demon. Not the green one, but the one that was very human. The self doubt that he was nothing and only ever became something because of a gamma radiation explosion. The anxiety that he would one day lose control and destroy everything that he held dear. The depression that came from every so-called mistake he thought he had made in his scientific career. The depression that manifests in self isolation so no other mistake could be made, or at least no one was there to be hurt when they were made. He was certain that these monsters would be the ones to push you away from him; they would be the ones that would make you run away screaming.

You never once left his side, though. You calmed the anxiety attacks; you silenced the dark thoughts in his mind. You were his voice in every moment that he needed you. You were his protector, and he would do everything in his power to keep you.

Loki

You saw through the illusion.

Loki moved into the tower not long after everything that happened with the Battle of Sokovia, which was when you joined the team. He was brought to Earth to atone for his sins; Odin thought it poetic to banish his son to the place where he caused destruction.

Besides Bucky (shared trauma in brainwashing and all), you were the first one to accept Loki as he was. A connection flowed easily between you, bonding over books and similar battle styles; you both favored knives and daggers. One night, you two were in the living room of the comunal floor. Loki and you had only been dating for a few months, but your friendship led to a strong bond already. You were reading; Loki had been too, though he was now asleep, head resting in your lap. Your hand stilled in his hair as he started to fidget. Twitching and moaning, you recognized the signs of his nightmares immediately. Your gentle coasting to awake still startled him. A moment on the couch, the next on the floor staring into red eyes surrounded by a blue tinged face. As quickly as it was there, Loki was his blue-eyed, pale skinned self, helping you from the ground.

“Apologies, my love. I do not know what came over me.” He ran his hands through his hair.

You rolled your eyes. “Bullshit. Are you okay?” You reached out for him.

He smiled softly before turning away from you. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, love.”

“Loki, you are not--”

“I said I’m fine, Y/N,” he interrupted. He started to walk away.

“Wha- No, wait.” He didn’t stop. “Loki of Asgard, you stop right now and look at me, damnit!” He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Loki. Please. You can pretend with the team, with your brother even. But don’t lie to me. You’re not fine, not have you been for a long time. Look at me.” While you spoke, you walked closed to him. You reached out to place a hand on the back of his shoulder.

He caught your wrist, half turning to look at you. “You see through the illusions.”

It wasn’t a question. You still answered. “Yes, I do.” You used your captured hand to turn his face to you. “You may be the God of Mischief, but your lies have never worked on me.” You whipped a tear from his cheek.

He’d never admit it to you, but his heart clenched and he was at a momentary loss for words. All he could think to say, as he pulled you into his arms, was, “I know not how I got so fortunate to have you in my life, but I thank whoever it was that allowed it.” You just hugged him tighter.

Bucky

It was how you celebrated his 37th birthday.

Bucky had a doopy smile on his face as he read one of the texts from you; he and Steve were disembarking from one of Stark’s planes. Bucky brought his head up at the sound of laughter. “What, punk?” Bucky shoved Steve’s shoulder.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Tell y/n hi from me, jerk.”

Bucky shot back that he would as he headed straight to the garage.

When he did get home, a wonderful aruma tickled his nose while Janet Blair’s “You’d be so Nice to Come Home To” floated to his ears. Dropping his bag by the door, he rounded the island. All of his weariness from the mission vanished once he saw you. Your hair was pinned up and you wore a y/f/c swing dress. He caught the reflection of your makeup; simple, with eyeliner your top lids, just a kiss of it on the lower, massacre gracing your lashes, and a red perfetingly complementing your skin coating your lips. When you faced Bucky, he had to grip the island slightly for support. You looked just like the dames he knew growing up. But unlike all of them, you were his, and you took his breath away.

“Buck! I didn’t hear you come in,” you exclaimed.

He reached out to you; you willingly stepped into his arms. Bucky placed a kiss on your lips, humming as he pulled away. “You look stunning, doll. What’s the occasion?” He started swaying you to the music.

You laughed. “You are, you dork. Or did you forget you turned a whole century while you are on this mission?”

“Ouch, doll. You really know how to make a man feel loved. I’m only 37,” he tried reasoning as he dipped you.

“Is that so? Then why does your birth certificate say you were born in 1917?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine, happy 37th birthday, even though you were born 100 years ago. Do you want some cake? I made this one special.” You began biting the side of your lip.

“Sure, babe. I’d love some.” Bucky gave you once last peck before letting you go.

You went to the cake, cutting two slices. Bucky saw you fidget slightly as you set them pieces down on the island. Not sure as to why you’d be so nervous (you’d made him chocolate cake before, it was his favorite), he picked up his fork and took a big bite. The explosion of flavor in his mouth caused him to pause for a moment before he kept chewing. Unsure if his senses were playing tricks on him, he took another small bite. Nope, that tasted exactly like-- “Is this my mother’s recipe?” Disbelief clouded his voice. You nodded your head. “And her icing?” You nodded again.

“It wasn’t easy to replicate, or even find the recipe, but this birthday is a big deal so I thought--” you were cut off by Bucky pulling you to him and crashing his lips to yours. You could taste the chocolate on his lips.

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piscesparker · 3 years

Text

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 4

a/n: *in Loki's voice* Surpriseee

As his hand slid off my face, I left out a huff of breath, "What are you doing here Harrison?" I asked him, his hands not seeming to leave mine; my constant squirming gave away that I was uncomfortable.

"I could ask you the same." He retorted, letting go of my hands but still standing incredibly close, "Well I got hungry." I shrugged and walked past him across the room to my sandwich, "Now answer me, what are you doing here?" I asked taking a bite. I felt a bit embarrassed since I was in my nightgown just like dad joked about and he was still in the same clothes we had gone for the tour but just a little creased up now. 'It had been hours since we got back why hasn't he changed yet?'

"I was hungry too?" It was more of a question than a statement, he followed me and leaned on the table, standing adjacent from me. As he reached out his hand over to take my sandwich I slapped his hand. "Hey!" He furrowed his brows.

"Don't touch my food!" He rolled his eyes.

"It's the middle of the night what are you two doing here?" A sleepy voice came from behind, startling the two of us.

"Alex! Don't do that!" I yelled at him, placing my hand over my chest.

"So you attack me and not him?" Harrison quipped

"Attack?" Alex chimed in, "What happened here?"

"Nothing happened, just go back to bed." I told him, he simply rolled his eyes and went; I then turned to Harrison, "You too."

"But I'm still hungry." He fake pouted. "It's quite a big kitchen I'm sure you can make something." He didn't say anything, he simply stood up straight and began to walk towards me.

"What are you doing?" I stuttered, scared and taking back a few steps. It wasn't until I hit another table that I let out a soft gasp knowing that he had cornered me. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't read but a smirk I knew all to well, he was towering over me just like he did moments ago. His index finger was under my chin, lifting it up and looking into my eyes. His thumb swiped the corner of my lip, he then licked his thumb, apparently I had some jam from the sandwich there. "Strawberry," he hummed, "nice." That stupid smirk of his never left his lips but he did, as did I moments later.

Walking back to my room I passed the portraits of mom and dad which had me wondering, even if Harrison and I do get married would we have anything like they did? The love, the understanding, the two of us have nothing in common.

The next morning I hurried on down to the stables to see Spencer before dad would have any other work that would keep me occupied for the whole day again. "Hey boy." I cooed, running my hand over his well brushed hair as he neighed, "I'm so happy to see you too." I smiled, this smile was genuine, it wasn't forced because seeing and talking to Spencer actually gave me joy.

I opened his stall door and put his reins over his ears and taking him out of his stall, walking to the garden. As we strolled beside each other, I vented out everything that happened with Harrison and how I despise him, "What do I do Spence?" I asked him, looking into his big black eyes. "Maybe you should try not talking to a horse." I didn't have to turn around to see who said that, that voice was beginning to grow on me. But Spencer too was getting agitated, he began whining and huffing, I gripped on reins so he wouldn't get away and tried to calm him down.

After getting him to calm down, I turned to Harrison, "See, even Spencer doesn't like you." I informed him and started to walk back to the stables, taking him in his stall and taking off his reins and brushing his hair; surprisingly Harrison had followed us. "I'm sorry about your horse, didn't mean to spook him." He stood at a safe distance from us with his one hand shoved in his pocket as always and kicking around some of the hay with his foot. "It's alright, he's not used to meeting new people." I said, continuing to brush Spencer.

"So what were you doing talking to him? People are gonna think you're crazy."

"So? I don't care what people think. I love him, so that is why I talk to him." I smiled, remembering the day I met Spencer, he was just a foal who had been birthed by one of the royal horses.

"It seems as though you love him, maybe you should marry him at least you'll be happy and who knows maybe you might have some centaurs running around the castle." He joked as I sent him a disgusted look. "But to be honest," he continued after he finished laughing, "Spencer seems to a be a great horse for racing, have you ever tried to race him? I bet he would be amazing."

"No, as much great as he is, he never races, I don't want people betting on him or want him to lose the comfort of this stable." I shot back. Spencer wasn't a royal horse, he never went on battles or wars I didn't allow it. Just then I heard the clicking of heals approaching us, it was Leah in true fashion with her buttoned shirt, blazer and mini skirt. "Your highness's," she gave a curtsy and turned to me, "Queen Phil has asked to see you in her room for tea, and His Majesty has asked to see you Prince Harrison." She informed him.

"Are you sure it's not the other way around?" I interjected.

"No." She said confidently and walked away.

"Shall we?" He asked, ignoring his request I stepped out of the stable and walked back in the castle; him jogging and catching up to me and stopping when he saw dad approach us. "Your Majesty, you're looking rather chipper." He grinned.

"Seeing the two of you surely does make me happy, Y/n why don't you show him to my study I'll be with you in a minute." He asked me and walked past us.

"Well this is your stop," I sighed when we reached dad's study, before I walked away I turned to him, "You're such a kiss-ass you know that."

"Oh love, yours is the only ass I will be kissing." He winked as I had a feigned expression. How dare he?

This was the second time he left me stunned right in the middle of hallway, the thought of seeing his mother came to mind. Should I tell her? I took a deep breath and turned on my heels walking towards Queen Phil's room. I waited a few moments after my knuckles tapped her room door. "Y/n! Please do come in." She greeted, opening the door and revealing the trolley of tea cups, biscuits and assortments of sorts, I entered the room not before giving a polite curtsy and a fake smile plastered over my face no thanks her son. "Come." She patted on the cushion signalling me to sit beside her, I obliged. There was a sense of comfort I was finding in her, a same feeling a felt with my own mother at times, which made me wonder even more how did her son was the complete opposite of her.

I adjusted myself beside her, "Y/n," she began, "I just want to say thank you, for accepting to marry my son, and sacrificing your self for your people. I admire that in you and I'm sure you would make a great queen one day." I locked my eyes with hers at that compliment.

"You really think so?" She nodded solemnly. I was trying not burst into joy, the very woman I look up to, aside from my mom, thinks I would be a great monarch in the future? Maybe tolerating her son wouldn't be that hard.

Harrison Osterfield Taglist: @hollandbroz-n-haz @hjoficrecs @euphorichxlland @asshatgrace @anissalime @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

General Taglist: @petersasteria @peaches-parker @amberxskiess @hollanderfangirl @alinastarkrovs @parkerpeter24 @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theglitterymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman @keithseabrook27

Betraying the bond taglist: @in-some-fandoms @frenchfrostpudding @sheranatic111 @kickingn-ames @tomhollander96 @minejungwoo @multific @emistrash @xuxinoir @angelsgrxzer @hellomadambutterfly @britishvamps @bicyhot1

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfieldxreader #harrison osterfield fluff #prince!haz #prince!harrison #betraying the bond

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misslynn99 · 3 years

Text

Epicenter: Chapter Two

Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Link to Chapter 1

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

The next morning, the café regulars buzzed around the TV monitors, excitedly chatting about the news. Official footage of the attack had finally been aired. Concrete flew everywhere as the villain lashed out against heroes, sending distraught civilians fleeing from the scene. The scene that every news station had on repeat, however, was that of several tons of concrete on a direct collision course for a young family, until Ground Zero put himself between the two. He squared back one shoulder to pulverize the rubble with a blast, and in that moment, his wild eyes were molten flames, the fine cascade of dust casting a hazy halo around his form.

It was such a harsh contrast to the villain swinging a pillar of concrete immediately after, colliding directly with the hero’s chest and sending him hurtling back against the harsh exterior of another building, slumping bonelessly on the ground.

“He saved them.” You whispered to yourself. Icy needles twisted in your chest. Eijirou had trusted you to care for his closest friend at his most vulnerable. The café was much closer than any hospital to the scene, but your heart skipped a beat, fluttering in astonishment. “He could have died. It’s a wonder he didn’t.” Just how close had Ground Zero been to death’s door when he showed up here?

“Blasty is lucky he’s got a rad, manly partner like me.” Eijirou’s voice startled you, suddenly far too close to your ear.

“Hi!” You squeaked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You think I’d let my best girl go un-thanked after saving my partner’s ass yesterday?” His arms swept you into a tight bear hug, twirling your feet off of the floor. Eijirou’s easy smile seemed to smooth over the awkward tension from the day before, as if it were no more than an insignificant blight of an otherwise sunny day.

“Quit harassing the woman, Shitty Hair. We’re here on business.”

“She likes it.” Eijirou had the gall to stick out his tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

“I, I don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, dropping your head forward, and you prayed that no one would notice. This crush was spiraling out of control, as the sturdy muscles that could shatter any obstacle and strong enough to lift cars supported you easily in his embrace.

“ ‘Don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘like’.” Ground Zero’s mouth turned even further downward into a scowl. Reluctantly, Eijirou set you down, and you felt cold at the absence of his touch. The tension settled again like a thick cloud, choking out whatever embers of affection you felt for the red haired hero.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” The red-head’s own face was dusted with faint pink, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem.” You tried your best to smile kindly, wincing internally at the memory of his flinch. “Why don’t I get you both some coffee on the house? It’s the least I can do for everything you two do to protect the city.”

“One black coffee it is then!” Eijirou perked back up.

“So, I take it you’ll have the latte, extra heavy cream with two pumps caramel, two pumps cinnamon, and cinnamon-brown sugar mix dusted on top?”

Ground Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to say that so loud.”

“No shame.” You chuckled despite yourself. “Plenty of people take their coffee sweet, too.”

“Don’t spare Blasty’s feelings!” Eijirou laughed. “Even Mr. ‘Nothing is spicy enough’ likes sweets on occasion.”

“You better shut your mouth!” Ground Zero snapped, his tone climbing with each word. Curiously, Eijirou kept laughing, and tapped at his own ear.

“Right, got it.” The blonde grumbled. “Too loud.”

“Here you go, boys.”

“I have a name, you know.” The blonde held the cup up, scowling. “I’m off work, damn it. You called Shitty hair by his name on the cup.”

“It’s not like you introduced yourself between eating shit against the building and going in for surgery.” Eijirou scoffed.

“And you did?”

“Kiri stayed with me while they gave me IV fluids.” You supplied bashfully. “And I wanted to know when you made it out okay.”

“Call me Bakugou then.” He made a strangled noise. “When I’m not in suit tearing shit up, I don’t wanna hear ‘Ground Zero’ from you, got it?

“Not your given name?” Eijirou seemed to take a savage joy in goading on the explosive hero. “That’s awful cold, Katsuki. She did save you from a hospital stay and a month off of hero work.”

“Or Katsuki, whatever.” If looks could kill, Eijirou would have dropped dead in his tracks. Bakugou’s eye twitched and small firework-pops crackled off of his palms, clenched into fists at his side. You hoped that the café regulars were too enamored with the news and their own conversations to notice the sparks flying.

“I can call you Bakugou, if that’s what make you more comfortable. Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” You chuckled, carefully watching his expression for his reaction to the playful jab.

“Kacchan’s bark is worse than his bite, at least off of the battlefield.” A new voice drifted in from the door. The emerald curls, gelled up from his undercut, were unmistakable. “I’m afraid that we didn’t get introduced last night. I’m Deku, but you can call me Midoriya if you’d like.”

“Kacchan?” You grinned wickedly. “Isn’t that so cute!”

Bakugou bristled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking nerd!” He whipped around to snarl at the green-haired hero that had just walked in. For someone who was effectively co-workers with the number one hero, Bakugou acted like he despised the man.

“Aw, pump the breaks Kacchan.” Midoriya scrunched his freckled nose in a wide grin. “I’m just here to say hello to the woman who saved your life last night. So, this is where Kiri has been getting your coffee from? It’s such a nice little café, I think I’ll have stop by more often.”

“Like hell you will! We found it first!” Bakugou growled, stepping between you and Deku, while Eijirou chimed in the background, “I think you mean that I found it first.”

“Boys, boys, you’re all very pretty.” You ducked around the pro hero’s side, attempting to soothe the bickering. “I have plenty of coffee to go around. “

“You’re not keeping her as your personal barista and healer, Kacchan.”

“What happened to keeping this on the down-low?” Bakugou suddenly stiffened, whispering harshly.

“I think someone is feeling a bit embarrassed.” Eijirou rolled his eyes.

“I got my shit rocked on national television, of fucking course I feel embarrassed.” The blonde snapped. “But for her safety, I thought we agreed to keep any rescue shit-talk out of the public eye.”

Wincing, you looked up at him. “I think they’re calling you saving that family the rescue of the year though. And lots of people have minor healing quirks.”

Whipping his head back and forth, he snagged the strings of your apron and tugged you behind the coffee bar, through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Wait!” The two other heroes followed suit, chasing you as Bakugou dragged you out of the public eye.

“You don’t have a ‘minor healing quirk.’ “ He scowled, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, hands trembling as if he were resisting the urge to shake you. You could feel the residual heat of his calloused palms, the threat of an explosion ghosting along your skin and sending shivers up your spine.

“You have a self-destructive healing quirk that has major potential to get you kidnapped. Do you know the League of Villains would do to get their hands on you? Or fuck it, the Hero Commission? They’d keep you caged up like some animal to fix up their toys as they broke so that they could be sent out scot-free again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Midoriya and Eijirou recoil, especially as the blonde hero turned his ire towards them once again. “Is some kind of joke to you two? Kirishima, if you could take two minutes to keep it in your pants, and Deku, if you could be serious, we need to come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Kacchan.” Midoriya and Eijirou nodded.

“Where do you live?” His burning eyes narrowed in your direction once again.

Swallowing thickly, you met his gaze. “In the loft above the café.”

“Hmm. Who all knows about the full extent of your quirk?”

“Just my parents, and my best friend from middle school, who moved to the states while we were in college.”

“Maybe she should stay with one of us?” Midoriya offered. “Just to see if anyone’s decided to target her?”

Panic froze your feet to the floor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You laughed nervously, fiddling with the apron strings tied at your hip. “I mean, you’re all very nice, but I could never ask that of anyone. I’m up at 4 in the morning to get the café ready to open at five, and walking alone in the dark is not my forte.” Especially if I might as well have a big target painted on my forehead now.

“The League definitely keeps an eye on our flats. They might not have made the connection that she’s done anything yet, but moving her in would be a surefire way to draw their attention. Also, there’s no way the Commission would just ignore someone else hanging out all the time.” Eijirou argued. “I think it would be better to set up surveillance on the café and her loft, and maybe get her a panic button or something.”

“A panic button.” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there are these novel things called ‘cellphones.’ “

“And if she can’t call?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow.

“Brave words for someone who dropped his location to Icy-Hot, with literally no context, in the middle of an alleyway, and he magically appeared anyways.”

Sighing and stepping between the two bickering men, Eijirou held his hand out expectantly. “Here, I’ll put our numbers in your phone. We should probably scope out your apartment later.”

“I close at five tonight.” You offered, passing your cell to him, contacts open. “I’ll probably be done cleaning up by six, but you’re free to drop by whenever you get the chance after that. All of this feels pretty crazy though. It’s not like I did anything out in the open.”

Turning on the full force of his overwhelming intensity, Bakugou rounded on you once again, having caught the tail of your conversation. “There’s a couple articles floating around. You’re in the pictures, being floated to the hospital, and some low life bloggers are wondering how I was fine so soon afterwards, when Recovery Girl was on the other side of the country for some other case.” Venom dripped from his words, as if this were your fault somehow.

“It’s not my fault that I helped you!” Anger leaked into your voice. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacityto blame you for this. “Don’t talk to me like it is. I couldn’t not do anything. It’s a wonder that hit didn’t do worse, and I am certainly not responsible for them taking me to the hospital with you.”

In frustration, you stormed out of the kitchen, straightening your apron and apologizing to the handful of customers who were waiting by the cash register. A friendly smile and a few discounted coffees later, they sat down at a booth. The heroes were still in your kitchen, and you felt your resolve to ignore them crumbling. “I did give Kiri and Bakugou free coffee earlier.” You mumbled to yourself, a mischievous idea taking root; Bakugou’s buttons were so easy to press.

Leaning around the corner, you poked your head back through the kitchen doorway. The heroes froze, their argument in low tones evaporating with your return. “Midoriya!” You grinned, drawing out the syllables playfully and deliberately ignoring the blonde hero’s angry stare. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet as you are?”

“Uh, umm” He stuttered and his eyes darted between you and the door. “With oat milk, white chocolate and toffee, and iced please.”

“Coming right up! On the house.” The sound of sparks dancing off of Bakugou’s palms eased your flare of anger, taking a little bit of satisfaction in riling up the blonde in return, and you set about making the drink.

The trio must have finally decided to drop their discussion, and shortly followed you out to wait by the coffee bar. Bakugo turned his back to you, eyeing the door and clutching his coffee while Midoriya and Eijirou resigned themselves to facing you, their awkward expressions apologetic. The other café patrons were thankfully still transfixed by the TVs, oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Here’s your phone back.” Eijirou mumbled, setting your phone on the counter. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated and annoyed, nothing against you personally. It’s just kinda how he is, ya know? He takes it out on everyone. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, but he doesn’t blame you. Promise.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can accept your apology on his behalf, just this once.” You whispered back, sliding a coffee cup to Midoriya, who sipped it gratefully.

“We’ll be back later. Come on, nerds.” Bakugo’s voice was gruff as he called over his shoulder. “We have a meeting and a patrol shift soon.”

The heroes left and an unease settled in your gut at their absence, acutely missing their larger than life presence. Even as the customers milled about, coming up for refills and pastries, their words weighed on your mind. Villains and Heroes had never been a major point of contention in your life; a quirk like yours wasn’t suited for the spotlight, and like thousands of others, accepted your fate as a civilian.

The coffee shop felt like a homage to another era, before quirks existed. The small planters bloomed in the window display under your mindful care, without any sparks of magic to enhance their color or growth. The coffee beans that arrived each week were roasted delicately by hand, and each new drink was born from trial and error; no surprising powers of charm or persuasion lured customers to your door. It was an honest life that you were proud of, built with hard work and love.

Ringing up another customer and brewing the earl grey tea for a London Fog, it felt like your head was ringing. Your quirk had never been an active threat to your well-being. You had gained some control over the years, having only been able to tend minor scratches and bruises as a child, but never showed enough promise to be recruited into the medical field as a young teen. Even now, the drawbacks were too great. Healing left you exhausted, and the more extensive the injury, the greater the fatigue.

It wasn’t like you came from a family of fantastic heroes either. Your mother worked as a doctor in a wound care and surgical center because she could clean infected tissue at the expense of the patient’s energy. Your father’s quirk was completely unrelated to your own, allowing him to sculpt metal by heating his hands, albeit without flames. It was hard to believe that the arguably worse version of your mother’s quirk made you a target, but the underlying assumptions behind it sent shivers of fear down your spine. If there was no regard for your well-being, your quirk could be indispensable, could be used to patch anyone up at the expense of draining you dry.

Nevertheless, the hours ticked by, dread worrying the pit of your stomach. Bile rose in the back of your throat the longer your anxious thoughts raced. Without the grace of someone with a more offensive quirk, there was little you could do to defend yourself.

Maybe Bakugou was right to be annoyed, but he didn’t have the right to be such an ass about it. Closing time was only half an hour away, and the customers had dwindled in the shop. The pleasant humming of customers faded, exposing every raw nerve that you had. The last person was out, and at 5:06,

... there was a knock.

Snapping to attention, you jerked towards the doors, feeling a strange mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing Bakugou waiting by the door. Sighing, you called out, “It’s still unlocked.”

He didn’t enter though. He leaned partially against the window with one hand, the other shoved deep into the pocket of his white jeans. He had the hood up on his black and gold hoodie, but not enough to conceal his distinctive blonde hair and you could have sworn his red eyes could burn a hole through anything as he peered in the window. He must not have heard you, and you steeled your resolve to go and let him in.

“Shitty Hair sent me.” He grumbled.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response, wandering back behind the counter to tuck away the extra bottles of syrup and take down the pastry display. “Make yourself at home then.”

The hero looked even more uncomfortable, his shifting gaze never lingering on anything for too long, before he spotted the bottle of disinfectant. To your surprise, he started wiping off tables, but you don’t breath a word, afraid to break the uncanny silence.

At 5:45, Eijirou, Midoriya, and a woman you could only assume was Uravity knocked, and Bakugou dropped the supplies as if he had been burned. Midoriya was the first to heckle him, teasing “Kacchan, I didn’t know that you could be helpful!”

“I was bored, you damn nerd. That’s all.”

The heroes were almost unrecognizably causal. Uravity and Midoriya were in matching letterman jackets, sky blue and patterned with delicate pink cherry blossoms falling from slender black branches, with Shouto written across the back in a beautiful script. Eijirou was also devastatingly casual, wearing baggy, low-rise black jeans and a white v-neck that dipped dangerously below his collar bones. His long red hair was up in his trademark loose ponytail, spilling over his shoulders and down his back.

“So nice to see you again! I’m Uraraka.” Her smile glowed as she bounced forward to greet you. “It’s nice to really see the place that Kirishima and Bakugo talk so much about.”

A frown creased your features. “I think I would have remembered Bakugou coming in for coffee. Doesn’t Kiri just get his?” You mumbled, panicking as you realized it was out loud.

Thankfully, Uraraka giggled. “No, he just won’t let Kiri get coffee from anywhere else now. I think the whole agency knows his order by now.”

“It’s just the least shitty.” Bakugou growled. “But whatever. I have shit to do, so let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way.” Midoriya smiled kindly.

The stairs to the flat were in the kitchen, the door tucked out of sight next to a supply closet. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, and a sudden self-consciousness that almost froze you in place. The apartment was an intimate insight into your life and personality. Your reading was on the living room table, and cherished photos hung on the walls. Is my laundry hanging up to dry? You winced at the thought.

“Welcome!” You forced a smile and led them to the kitchen table. “So, what do you need to check out?”

“We’re not trying to invade your privacy more than necessary.” Midoriya looked solemn, glancing at you shyly from underneath his lashes. “I was thinking we should put a camera right in the stairway that faces the entrance, another on the fire escape, and one on the outside of each of your windows. Then, we can just set up a bunch around the café.”

“Oh,” You relaxed into your seat. “That’s not as bad as I was expecting.”

Midoriya and Uraraka were sitting ram-rod straight at your table, posture stiff and schooled. Eijirou was examining your end table in the living room, carefully turning your favorite candle in his hands, while Bakugou trailed behind like a sullen shadow.

“We just want to make sure you’re safe.” Uraraka reassured. “We’ll probably change the patrol route to make sure that we stop by here, but we won’t be in the shop every time. If nothing is weird, we’ll leave you be after a while.”

“I’m glad.” The remaining tension left your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I really don’t want to put my life on pause. I’ve worked really hard for what I have here. “

“Of course!” Eijirou looked over his shoulder, now surveying the sliding glass door that led to the fire escape. “This is the best place in town, and I don’t think I’ll ever stay awake through another Commission meeting without my usual again. Plus, we owe you big time. It’s our fault that you’re starting to get some media attention.”

“Do the cameras need plug-ins or batteries?” You asked cautiously.

“Nah, they’re the special surveillance ones Chargebolt rigged, and we’ll get a notification if the battery is less than 25%. We’ve just gotta get them set up. Uraraka can up to stick them, then make ‘em weightless so they don’t fall down.”

At Eijirou’s words, you could see Uraraka tapping her fingers, jumping up to stick the device to the ceiling. With a frown of concentration, she pulled out her phone, checking the feed and fiddling with the camera until it was angled to her satisfaction before drifting back to the floor.

“We can take it from here. Feel free to go back to closing, or what you usually do in the evening. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything.” Midoriya nodded before excitedly leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a little kid. “Also, at some point, can I study your quirk? I keep notebooks of all different quirks I encounter, and yours is so interesting.”

“Shut your trap, nerd!” Bakugou growled from behind Eijirou, who jumped and clutched his partner’s arm. “Stop acting like we’re at the damn zoo. Save it for later.”

“Am not, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined. Turning to you, he put up his hands in a peace gesture. “I think we better get going, though. I think today’s probably been quite the day for you. Uraraka will set those up outside, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Snagging Bakugou’s sleeve, Midoriya pulled him unwillingly down the stairs, with Uraraka having already moved on to install the security cameras in the café. Despite his tough front, the blonde didn’t fight too much, only grimacing and batting away the other hero’s hand as they left.

“Hey Kiri,” You said nervously, before the hero had the chance to follow his teammates out of your apartment. “Thanks for having Bakugou come over to be there while I was closing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you guys said this morning. I just feel so uneasy, like every stranger could be dangerous and I can’t do anything to save myself. It really set my mind at ease to have someone else there.”

“I bet.” He winced with sympathy. “But I didn’t ship Bakugou out here. He volunteered, and you didn't hear that from me.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #reader insert #bakugou katuski x reader #female reader #she/her pronouns #pro hero bakugou #aged up characters #pro hero au #coffee shop au #angst with a happy ending #reader has a healing quirk #canon typical violence #somewhat graphic description of wounds #slow burn #no beta we die like men #Ground zero Au

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