#she was like it's so fuckin annoying when people try to hit you with miss

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eight

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Alcohol use, mention of marijuana, brief mention of cocaine (not consumed by any main characters), smut (18+ only)

Sexual content: choking, fingering, oral (f rec), unsafe sex, plain ol' fuckin, and of course I would be lost without a creampie

Playlist | Masterlist

If the last party had been a bit overwhelming, then this party could be described as sensory hell. Within only a few seconds of being there, you saw a group of zombies playing beer pong in the front yard, and two Sesame Street characters doing cocaine off the kitchen table. You were a bit nervous, sticking close to Sam’s side as he guided you into the house. His brothers stood in the living room, a drink in each of their hands, chatting happily with the group assembled out there.

“Sammy boy!” Jake exclaimed upon seeing the two of you, running over to give both of you a hug. He was dressed as a pirate, the pieces of his costume almost a bit too accurate, like he’d stepped out of a different era. When he wrapped his arms around you, you were hit with that familiar scent, memories of the last party rushing back to your head.

He looked you over, trailing his eyes over your figure the same way he’d done the first time you met him. It made something inside you ache, something you couldn’t quite describe. He caught your eyes and you noticed he’d put on eyeliner, just a bit, just enough to make his gaze feel even more piercing.

Josh followed close behind, pulling you into a tight hug. “You look incredible, sunshine. My lord.” He looked you up and down, gesturing at you with a point of his finger. “Doesn't she look amazing?” He asked, looking between Jake and Danny, who had come over to join you.

“Quite beautiful. Very angelic,” Jake said.

“You look outstanding. None of these guys deserve to see it,” Danny joked with a whisper, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth like he was telling you a secret.

A blush rose into your cheeks, and you shook your head. “I just…wanted to look nice. And you guys all look awesome.”

Josh was dressed in a classic hippie getup, with a pair of huge sunglasses, flared pants, and a vest over his otherwise bare chest. Danny was dressed as a cowboy, and he’d gone all-in on the fit, cowboy boots and all. He had on a hat that looked far too nice for a Halloween outfit.

“Is that your hat?” You asked.

He tipped the brim at you, doing a goofy bow with one hand on the comically large belt buckle he was wearing. “Darn tootin’, little miss. Got it alongside the boots a few years ago.”

You placed a hand over your heart, returning the mock accent he’d put on. “Oh, my. What a gentleman you are!”

Jake offered to grab you and Sam a drink, and you happily accepted, following him into the kitchen while Sam took a seat in the living room with the other two.

“So, who are you trying to impress? Or make jealous?” Jake asked, taking the top off of a bottle of tequila.

“I’m sorry?”

He gestured towards you. “The costume. You’re the hottest one here, no contest. Did you get your heart broken recently?”

“I…no. Well…” You watched his hands as he poured you a drink that would certainly be too strong. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I won’t pry. Unless you want me to.” He handed you your drink, and started making another one.

You took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised. You could barely taste the alcohol. “This is good.”

“Thank you. My secret recipe.” He finished his own drink, swirling it around in his hand for a moment while he leaned against the counter to face you. “I’m guessing you made up with Sam?”

You nodded. “He apologized. He explained how–” You cut yourself off. You definitely shouldn’t repeat his explanation to Jake, of all people. “He just explained why he was mad. But it’s all okay now.”

“That look in your eye,” he pointed at you, squinting his eyes. “You’re still mad at him, aren’t you?”

It was genuinely annoying how well Jake could see right through you. Like he was reaching into your brain and stealing your thoughts. It almost felt violating, the way he seemed to always just know.

“A little.”

“Because of that fight?”

You hesitated for a moment too long. “Yeah.”

He gave you a knowing smile. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So what was his excuse?” He eyed you over the rim of his cup as he took a swig.

“I don’t want to get into it, honestly.”

“I won’t push. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” He was being genuine, that much you could tell for certain.

“I appreciate that, Jake. I really do.”

He gave you a smile, the kind that made you a bit weak in the knees, and gestured towards the living room. Sam and Danny were deep in conversation on the mantle of the fireplace, and Josh was in the corner chatting up some group of people you didn’t recognize. The two of you took a seat on the couch, and you made yourself small in the corner against the arm rest, your legs tucked under you.

Jake was a good talker. He made worthwhile conversation, even though you weren’t entirely in the mood to talk about anything. He asked a lot of questions, and the two of you would spiral off into a tangent regarding that question. At one point, he mentioned the band, the one Sam had said they were trying to drag him into.

“Do you guys have a name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It's not serious enough for that, not yet. I want a name to come organically, when it’s time.”

“Makes sense. It would suck to pick a name and want to change it later.”

“Exactly.” He flicked his finger against one of your wings, sending it bouncing back and forth. “You should come to one of our little shows some time.”

“Where at?”

“We just play out of the garage, or back there, typically.” He gestured to the back of the house.

“Are you any good?” You smirked.

He laughed a bit, then gave you a wide-eyed, serious look. “The best.”

“Text me about it some time. I’d love to come, if I’ve got some free time on my hands that day.”

“I will,” you smiled.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, and you listened in to the conversations around the room. Sam’s voice reached your ears first, the sound of it so familiar and enjoyable that you seemed to pick it out of the crowd easily.

“She’s great.” He was still talking to Danny.

“You don’t sound very excited.” Danny's voice was harder to pick out, but you could hear it nonetheless.

“Nah, man, I was with her the other night. She’s a really sweet girl.”

Your skin prickled and your fingers tensed up. She. Her.

“She’s gorgeous,” he went on.

“Are you guys together, or what?”

“Not yet.”

You’d heard enough. Not yet. Those two words felt like a gunshot straight to your chest. You could barely hear Jake over the noise of your thoughts as he prodded you with a quiet “Hey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.” He called your name, placing a gentle touch on your arm that finally snapped you out of your trance.

You blinked at him a few times, your fingers white-knuckled on the armrest of the couch.

“You okay?” He looked at you with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I just…” you cleared your throat. “I think I need another drink.”

“Not a problem. Follow me.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you walked away with Jake, back into the kitchen, where he mixed you up another drink.

“Stronger this time,” he warned, handing it to you.

“Thanks. I need it.”

“Listen, sweetheart. What's going on with you?”

You shook your head. “I already said I don't want to get into it. Just exhausted, that’s all.”

“Well, letting it fester doesn’t seem to be doing you any favors.” He pinched one of your wings between his fingers and pulled at it. “Come here.”

He led you out the back door, and the two of you took a seat around the fire. He slid his chair across the grass as close to yours as it would go. “I can keep a secret, if that’s what you need. Just talk to me.”

“Jake…” This was only the second time you’d interacted with him. You weren’t ready to open up about anything to him – at least, not in your partially-sober mental state. “I appreciate you worrying about me. I really do. But I can't get into specifics with you.”

He toyed with the ruffled sleeves of his shirt. “Then be vague.”

“Well,” you sighed. “Do you ever just feel like everything is crashing down around you all at once?”

He nodded. “I know the feeling quite well.”

“That’s just kind of where I’m at right now.” He was basically a stranger to you, but you couldn’t help but open up just a bit around him. He radiated an aura that made you feel seen and understood, and the way he was apparently able to read your mind lent greatly to that feeling.

“I don’t want to overstep, but you know you can come to any of us about anything. These guys–” he gestured at the house. “They care. I care. Sam, especially. He really–”

“He is the issue,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

Jake shut his mouth, rocking his chair back and looking into the fire, processing your outburst. “So…” he trailed off, clearly not sure how to proceed.

“I just can’t figure him out.”

“You did only just meet him a month ago,” Jake countered. “Just give it some time. Don't let one fight taint your entire image of him.”

You were quickly painting yourself into a corner with this line of discussion. You couldn't exactly tell him why you were upset, without a full declaration of your love for Sam. “You’re right.”

“He’s smart. Smarter than anyone else I know. Guys like that can be a bit confusing.” He gave you a small smile. “Just let it go, whatever you’re still mad at him about. Your whole world doesn’t have to fall apart over one argument.”

You wished that this was something so simple, something you could just let go of.

“You need a sippy cup for that?” He pointed at the drink in your hand, still mostly full.

“Yeah, actually,” you giggled. “A princess crown too.”

For just a little while, Jake was able to make you forget all about the pain that still throbbed in your heart. Your typical worries washed away with every sip of the drinks he made you as the minutes turned into hours. You watched as all types of ghouls, monsters, and characters shuffled around the fire. The occasional couple in matching outfits would sometimes come by, and you had to avert your eyes every time, your mind drifting to the other half of your angel-devil getup that was wandering around the house somewhere.

Sam made an appearance at one point, sitting right next to you. Jake gave him a side-eyed look, glancing between you and him a few times, but he kept his mouth shut. You were a bit nervous he would leave the two of you alone. You weren’t sure you could handle that right now. Just looking into Sam’s eyes was enough, you didn’t want any more than that. He could sense it, you were certain. Something had shifted, and the air between you was thicker now. Conversation between the two of you was brief and clipped.

When he finally walked off with some guys you’d never seen before, things felt different. Jake was gazing at you intensely, giving you that same look he’d given you at the first party. Looking at you like he could eat you alive.

“You know,” he began, leaning a bit closer to you. “We never finished our conversation from the other week.”

You wracked your brain trying to recall what he was talking about, visibly lost.

“So would you be mad if I was?”

His words seemed like complete gibberish at first. But when he raked his eyes over your body, it came rushing back in like a tide, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach and your legs crossing a little tighter. That had been his response when you’d asked him if he was flirting with you.

“Not at all.” You said it with no hesitation, not a doubt in your mind. He was enchanting in a way you couldn’t describe even with a thousand metaphors.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded you deeply of a certain someone. If you couldn’t have him, then you’d take the next best thing. The thought felt evil, dirty, sickening, even. That you were even considering the one thing you knew would hurt him more than anything else…it wasn't like you.

As if right on cue, the yard became eerily silent. Something had drawn the crowd inside for now, and it was just the two of you, a group quietly passing a joint in the opposite corner of the yard, and the crackling of the fire. His hand came to rest on your thigh, just below where the stockings were wrapped in a neat little white bow. It was there for comfort, but the warmth of his palm singed your skin and sent flames raging through your body. Your stomach dropped, and you wondered how a man could make you have such a reaction to such a simple, innocent touch.

“You okay with this?” He asked.

Whether he meant his advances, or his fingers burning right through your skin to the bone, was not clear to you.

You would lie to yourself every chance you'd get, but you weren’t stupid. Jake was clearly into you. The tension was palpable now that the two of you were alone, if only just for a moment. You were a perfect level of drunk at this point. Still lucid, but your inhibitions dulled to just the right level. “I’m fine, but…this costume,” you whined. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

Jake looked at you with a fire in his eyes that could scorch you, so intense you averted your gaze. It was like he had grown bigger, eclipsing everything in your vision. He burned brighter than the fire that illuminated his stunning features in a brilliant orange. “Is that so?”

You nodded.

“What a shame it would be if someone took it off.” His tone implied that he was joking, but the look on his face said quite the opposite.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I look so nice, I can’t imagine what I would look like with less clothes.” Flirting, especially the kind you were doing now, wasn’t something you did often. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever done this kind of thing before.

He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow. “Is the little angel trying to ask me something?”

“Am I not making it obvious enough?”

You knew the gravity of the choice you were making. This would be a secret you could not keep forever, actions you wouldn’t be able to take back. None of that mattered anymore, though. There was one man you truly, unequivocally wanted, and he was not yours. He would never be yours. If he wanted you, he would be the one next to you right now.

“Plenty obvious, dear lady.” He belted the words in an accent you’d heard a few times before. “Come with me.”

“I expected something a bit more romantic from you, Jakey.”

He smiled at you, but the fire never left his eyes. “I don’t think I need to seduce you any further. Shut up and follow me.”

You felt dazed, completely out of your body as he took your hand in his and rushed you through the house and up into his room. Before you had time to come back down to reality your back was pressed up against a door and Jake was mere inches from your face, eyes piercing straight through you, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. He pulled off the headband that held a halo to your head, tossing it away somewhere behind him. So sickeningly poetic, an obnoxiously obvious metaphor.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, drawing a bit closer.

You weren’t completely sure of anything anymore. The one thing you knew was that this was real, he was here, and those gorgeous eyes were staring right through you. Eyes you saw in many dreams. You’d been holding back from running your fingers through his hair all night, and it had now become impossible to deny the way he made you feel. Your heart raced, blood rushing through your veins at an impossible speed. He smelled different this time, some different type of cologne. Yet there was still the underlying scent of him, of Jake.

He leaned forward and you were certain your insides turned to ice water when his lips met the side of your neck, placing a delicate kiss there. “I won’t take the most intense fuck-me eyes I’ve ever seen in my life as an answer, angel. Speak.”

“Yes.”

“I need more than that.”

“Jake, please…” you whined, drawing a gasp when his teeth raked across your skin. “Please just…just touch me.”

His fingers snaked up into your hair, giving a gentle tug to the side as he finally bit down on your neck. A soft moan escaped your lips as he sucked bruises into your skin. You knew you should stop him, tell him he can’t, people will see if he marks you up. But you just didn’t care anymore, and it felt far too good to stop him. So what. Let them see.

He wrapped his arms around you, walking you back towards the bed before almost throwing you onto it. He practically ripped his shirt off, throwing it to some dark corner of the room. He put a knee up on the bed beside you, and you leaned back as he leaned forward, until your little wings touched the mattress. He was crouched over you, silhouetted by the lamp light behind him. You were suddenly very aware of how quickly you were breathing.

“You alright?”

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say yes?”

“My name is Jake, actually. And I just want to make sure you’re happy, little angel.” He gave you such a sweet smile you thought your heart would burst right then and there.

“I couldn't be any happier right now.”

He descended onto your bare collarbones, biting against your skin with perfect pressure. You couldn't say a word, only gasp and whine under him. It felt too fucking good to finally have him like this.

You weaved your fingers through his hair, tugging at it gently, pulling him away from your neck. He moved willingly under your touch, more than you expected. You arched your back and reached for the zipper that held your costume around yourself, but his fingers wrapped around your forearms, squeezing just a bit too hard.

“Keep it on.”

“But–”

“I said keep it on. Did you not hear me, or are you choosing not to listen?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and he took your stunned silence as a chance to lean forward. There was a pause when your lips brushed. This was it, this was the point of no return. When you would awake from a dream where Jake had been right where he was now, sweat drenching your sheets and a throbbing between your legs, this was the thing you swore you would never do. This was the line you swore you would never cross, for fear of hurting Sam. None of that mattered anymore. He didn’t want you. He fought with you. He yelled at you. The line disappeared, and you crossed it without a doubt in your mind.

You pulled Jake in, unceremoniously, and your lips crashed together. He was soft, gentle, he moved with you. Your grip tightened in his hair when he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle bite. You pulled him away from your lips and he went with ease, staring at you with wide eyes.

He seemed so compliant, so eager to please you. You ran your thumb over his lips, and you couldn't help but envision him buried between your thighs. And as if he could read your mind, he began to crawl down the length of you, leaving kisses wherever his mouth could reach. He rested his head against your thigh, eyes flicking between you and the fabric draped across your lap. Like he was preparing himself.

“Jake…” You shifted your hips, growing desperate for some kind of touch.

He shushed you, trailing his fingers up your bare leg, just barely grazing the skin, making you shudder. “Wanna take my time.”

Painfully slowly, he pushed your skirt out of the way, the fabric gathering around your hips, your lacey panties on full display now. You propped yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at him, though the sight of him there was almost too much to bear.

“You look soaked already. All I’ve done is kiss you, sweet girl.” A grin spread across his face as he met your eyes. “You need me that bad, huh?”

“Obviously,” you whined.

He ran his thumb across the fabric of your panties, gently pulling them to one side. He ran a finger through your folds, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “All for me?” he breathed.

“All for you.”

He tore your panties off as quickly as he could, and slid a finger into you, and you felt completely breathless, dropping back down against the sheets. He moved masterfully, working you open, playing with you like you were a little toy for him.

“Oh fuck, Jake…” you stuttered over your words, every syllable a whimper.

“Louder, angel.”

You looked down at him, his eyes blazing into yours, dark and hungry.

“But they'll hear–”

“Let them.” He dropped down, laving his tongue over your clit, and you couldn’t stop the choked oh, god that fell from your lips.

“I can’t, that's so…” you couldn't finish your sentence, your words interrupted by gasping moans that you bit back, mortified by the idea of anyone hearing you.

“I’ll just have to make you louder, then.” He spoke the words pressed against you, the vibrations of his lips making you writhe. You tangled a hand in his hair, unconsciously pushing him closer against you.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking night,” he growled between licks of your clit. “I waited long enough to hear you.”

You had to bite the back of your hand to keep quiet when he added a second finger, curling them in just the right way, your other hand grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

“I didn’t even do anything,” you whined, sounding downright pathetic.

“Really?” He pressed his thumb against your clit in the absence of his tongue, sending a shiver through your body. “The whole night you were staring at me like you couldn’t wait for this.” He brought his tongue back to your clit, drawing a needy whine.

He was good at this, finding every spot you loved so quickly, testing different movements and angles, figuring out what made you moan the loudest or grab his hair the hardest. You were quickly unraveling beneath him.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, his mouth still against you.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

He pulled away from you, looking up at you with those wide eyes that made you feel insane, his fingers still moving. Your own wetness was smeared across his lips, his mouth curled up in a sly smile. “You know what I mean.”

You barely gave it a second thought before you whispered out a quiet “yes.”

“What was that, baby?”

You repeated yourself, gasping out the word a bit louder this time.

He brought himself up onto his knees, placing one hand on the side of your head, looming over you while his fingers still worked you perfectly. “I need more than that.”

All of this, the talking, the way his voice was a bit more raspy than normal, the way his hair hung down into his face, it was all too much. You were rushing towards your peak far too fast, the buildup far too long, and the feeling must have reflected in your face a bit too clearly.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” He said it so cocky, so snarky, with almost a laugh behind it. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You nodded, words becoming impossible to form, your eyes slipping shut as your back arched off the bed.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, barely able to take in his dreamlike appearance. “Jake…” you whined, reaching for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He let you pull him closer, brushing his lips against yours as he collapsed onto you. “Yes, baby?” You could feel his lips curl into a grin and he tasted like you.

You couldn’t find words, only choked moans came out of you as the heel of his hand pressed against your clit. You were so close, holding yourself back, for what reason you weren’t entirely sure.

“Go on, do it.”

Just those simple words of coaxing were enough to send you crashing over the edge, a sound coming out of you that you didn't even know you could make. Your teeth latched onto his collarbones, biting and sucking at his skin and earning you a few soft moans from his lips.

“That’s it…good girl.” He whispered into your ear in a way that made you shiver and twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, your entire body on fire. It felt like it would never end, his words prolonging every sensation as he talked you through it, with words of praise and filthy commands. “Keep going, angel, doesn’t that feel good?” He asked as you started to curl in on yourself, trying to tuck your knees to your chest. Whatever he was doing to you right now, nobody had ever done before.

It felt like the longest orgasm you’d had in your life, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. When he felt you’d had enough, and you started reaching for his wrist to pull it away, he finally relented, slowing and eventually stopping. As you came down, he pulled back, looking into your eyes with that fiery gaze that pierced right through you. He needed the same thing, and god did it have you throbbing all over again.

“Fuck me,” you whispered.

In one fluid motion he pulled away and flipped you over, yanking your hips up and putting a hand on the small of your back to hold you down. You yelped, surprised he was able to just…throw you around like that. The sound of his belt clinking behind you was erotic enough to draw a small moan out of you. Then the sensation of him dragging himself over your core – you nearly collapsed back down onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, angel. Gonna fuck you nice and sweet.”

You buried your face in the sheets to hide the agonized groan that ripped out of you as he pressed into you. He filled you so perfectly, in a way nobody else ever had. And then he just…stopped. He leaned down over you, his forehead resting against your back.

“Jakey–” the nickname slipped out unconsciously. “Please move, please–”

“Patience, angel.” You could feel his chest rising and falling with shaky, quick breaths.

You made a pleading, desperate sound, tightening yourself around him and trying to rock your hips back against him.

“Oh, don’t fucking do that,” he growled.

You needed this for longer, needed him as long as you could possibly have him. You felt a pressing need to be good for him.

He pulled his hips back, and snapped them forward again, sending stars across your vision. You clawed at the sheets, downright unholy sounds escaping you as he settled into a rhythm.

His hands roamed over your body until one of them landed on your lower stomach, just below your navel. He pulled you closer with that hand, adding just a bit of pressure in just the right place. “I’m right there, baby. You feel it?”

You whimpered, your mind scattered in every direction – you weren't used to this kind of dirty talking. Of course you could feel him, impossibly deep, taking up every square inch of you. “Yeah, I do,” you choked out, each word punctuated by a gasp.

“You’re taking it so good, sweet girl.” His hand wandered a bit lower, grazing across your clit, just enough to make you buck your hips, but he gave you no more than that light touch.

“More, please,” you gasped, trying to draw deeper breaths to keep yourself grounded. But he knocked the wind out of you with every thrust of his hips.

He clicked his tongue and murmured a pitying aww. “Does my sweet angel need something?”

“I need to see you, please, I want to–”

Before you could finish your sentence he was spinning you around to face him, practically throwing you down onto the bed. The ease at which he could manhandle you was stunning.

You clawed at his chest as he guided himself back into you, and you were certain you’d leave scratch marks on his skin. His expression as he did so was something that you felt burn into the back of your mind, something you would never forget. Like a song lyric you couldn’t stop replaying in your mind. His jaw slack, his upper lip curled up just a bit in something like a sneer, his brows knitted together, his head tilted slightly to the right, as if he was trying to get a better view.

It felt gentler now. The rush and frenzy of it all had worn off, and he moved slowly and deliberately. When his eyes met yours, the sensations caught up with your mind, and a brick wall of bliss crashed against you. You dragged your nails down his chest, your back arching off the bed when he bottomed out inside you.

“Is that better?” The smirk on his face alone was enough to make you tighten around him.

“Much better,” you sighed.

He settled into a rhythm again, one hand wrapped around your thigh and the other gripping the top of the headboard. Like he was putting his body on display for you. He hadn't taken off the chains around his neck, and the amulets made a lovely clinking sound as they swung back to collide with his chest with every thrust. You lifted yourself up off the bed, trying to drape your arms over his shoulders–

He pushed you back down with a hand against your chest. He shifted, his hands coming to rest on either side of you.

“I want to be closer to you,” you whined, like a spoiled brat.

“I want to watch you.”

You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck once again and trying to pull yourself up. But something held you back.

“You’re pinned, angel.”

It clicked – he was holding you down by your wings. The tiny bits of feather and fabric and wire strapped tightly around your shoulders. You wriggled under his grip, desperately trying to pull away, trying to get just a little closer to him, needing to feel more of him on you.

“You were taking it so good, baby,” he groaned. “Why all the fuss now?”

“Need you.” You tried to speak the words, but they came out as a full-fledged moan. It was almost embarrassing how needy you sounded.

His expression twisted into a cruel smile. “Need you,” he mimicked the way you’d moaned it, almost perfectly. “I need you to let me fuck you the way I know you’ll like it.”

You were stunned into silence, only able to take small sips of air through his thrusts.

But he mimicked that too. “You sound so pretty. I figured you would.” He always had a way of rendering you speechless.

All of his words, the perfect angle of his hips, the way you were pinned down, all of it was leading to a cliff edge you knew so well, the tension in your body rising to a level you didn’t think possible. It almost scared you a bit, and Jake must have read the fear in your eyes, from the way he grinned.

“Is the pretty angel gonna cum for me?”

You nodded frantically, words evading you.

“You didn’t ask permission first.”

Your eyes rolled back, your jaw dropping open in stunned silence at his words. Ask permission?

You managed to mumble out a “please” between moans.

“Nowhere near good enough,” he hissed. “Try again, or I’ll stop.” He wasn’t joking either, his hips slowing their pace, angling just away from your clit.

Every ounce of inhibition you had left went out the window at that moment, your eyes locking with his “Please, Jake, please, can I cum, sir? Please, I'm trying to be so good for you–” The words rushed out faster than your brain could process what you were saying.

He seemed to break a bit, his hips snapping forward harder than before. His hand came up to wrap around your throat, his fingers placed perfectly on top of your veins. “Say it again.”

“Please, sir,” you sobbed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. “I can’t– I can’t wait any longer–”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He pressed himself against you again, grinding his hips into your clit, and it only took a moment before you were cascading off the edge into the abyss. It felt like falling, your entire body tightening all at once, before you burst into sheer bliss, a smile gracing your lips as Jake’s hand tightened around your throat just right. Through your clipped breaths you called his name, not a thought in your mind about who may hear.

Through your daze of pleasure, you could hear his voice, sweet and soft in your ear, talking you through it. “That’s it baby, cum for me, I’m right there with you,” before his words devolved into groans so sweet they could rot your teeth. You could feel him pulsing inside you, filling you, spilling out of you onto the sheets.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, his hand slipping off your neck to stroke the side of your face, brushing away the tears that gathered on your cheeks. He collapsed down onto his forearms, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your voice came out of you cracked and broken, still the whisper of a moan on your tone. “Did you…”

“Yeah. I did. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He shook both of your bodies with silent laughter. “I swear I didn’t mean to. Are you…”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m going to.”

You giggled, a pure, clean sound that cut through the fog of tension in the room. “I forgot how good that feels.” You started to tremble, wrapping your shaking hands around him. “They definitely heard me, by the way.” You could hear laughter and conversation from the floor below – there was no chance they didn’t hear you shouting his name.

“Whatever.”

You laughed again, raising an arm to run your fingers through his hair, now damp with sweat. “That was…” you couldn't find the words to describe it.

“Too rough?” He propped himself up to look at you. “You look a mess.”

You could imagine it, mascara running down your face, hair disheveled, costume wrecked. “Perfect,” you smiled.

“Really.” He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Glad to hear it.” Looking you up and down, he heaved a sigh. “You’re leakin’ on my sheets, though.”

“Sorry, sir.” You crossed your legs and shot him a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you, a smile dancing on the corners of his lips. “Let me grab you something to clean up.”

“Not gonna do it yourself?” You teased as he rolled off the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“What, you want me to eat it out of you? There’s a three course meal in there right now.” He shot you a look over his shoulder, and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks.

“So vulgar.”

“Nah, just rock and roll.” He tossed you a towel and you cleaned yourself up the best that you could, before rolling over to haul yourself out of bed. You stood on wobbly knees, a dizziness suddenly crashing down over you, like your mind had forgotten you were still drunk until this moment. Jake was there in an instant, his arms hooking under yours to keep you on your feet.

“Careful now.”

He helped guide you into the bathroom as a content daze washed over you.

“Shout if you need anything,” he said in a hushed tone, letting go of you and retreating from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Emotions you hadn’t felt in far too long rushed together through your mind all at once as you sat down on the toilet. You hadn’t had time for sex in college. Too focused on your degree, too focused on your future, you had no interest in pursuing any of the men on campus. But maybe this is what you’d been missing this whole time. This was the piece of you that you’d been stifling, holding down. The reason you couldn’t seem to forget about Sam.

For now, you could push him out of your mind, the space he’d been taking up now replaced with Jake. And that horrible, nauseating feeling of butterflies you got around Sam didn’t happen when you saw Jake. He was safe. This was platonic, this was no-strings-attached, just a good time between two friends-of-friends.

You were suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable your costume was. You threw it off in a hurry, standing naked in front of the mirror, pondering your own reflection. He’d left a few rosy bruises on your collarbones and your neck. Your fingers brushed across them, the sight of being claimed making you throb, just a bit.

Are you sore? From fucking my brother? Sam’s words echoed through your mind at an alarming volume.

I wasn’t then. But I am now.

A knock at the door startled you out of your haze.

“You okay in there?” Jake’s voice called through the wood.

“Yeah.” Your voice was broken and hitched. “I need clothes though.”

He opened the door and you quickly covered yourself with a yelp. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt in his hand.

“I’ve already seen it all. You don’t have to hide it,” he chuckled. “Put these on.”

You did as he said, noticing the warm scent of vanilla that drifted off his clothes.

“I would offer to drive you home, but I…don’t think I should drive.”

You shook your head. The idea of being alone after that was an unpleasant one at best.

“You can sleep here, if you want.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He grabbed your hand and led you back over to his bed. He’d already made it back up neatly, the covers turned down, the room softly illuminated by only a small lamp in the corner. It didn’t feel intrusive to be here, it felt like home.

“I’m gonna go see how the guys are doing. You get some rest, alright angel?”

You crawled under the covers, your body immediately relaxing, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you’d been holding onto. “Alright,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

You were nearly asleep before he even left the room.

Tag List: @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar

[n0-eyedtaissa]

Song of the Summer (OBX OC x Rafe Cameron): Bad Decisions

A/N: Trying my best to give Rafe some nuance and explore his ‘downfall’. Phoebe’s too. Nothing brings imminent downfall like parties, rivalries and insecurities. Featuring Hogan Bailey, King of the Kooks and Rafe’s sworn enemy. 

TW: drinking, smoking, drugs, illusions to hooking up...oop!

Like all bad decisions, it started at a party. 

Or, that’s what they would say when they got caught. It started a long time ago, if you knew where to look. It happened at a party. 

Rafe Cameron was on one that night. 

It was the middle of summer, the nights were long and the air was hot and inescapable. Everyone was drunk and dehydrated, too temperamental. The party at the Glisson’s house had thinned out after a fight broke out between Rafe’s friends and another group of fully-cooked Kooks with nothing to lose. 

“Can you believe that guy? Comin’ at me like that?” Rafe mumbles out despite the slit in his lower lip and the alcohol that made him feel like it took extra work to string his thoughts and words together. 

“You threw the first punch, Rafe, what did you expect?” Sarah responds, sounding exasperated. 

“That’s not helping” Rafe’s girlfriend, Phoebe Deluca, sighs as she holds the bag of half-melted ice up to the bruise forming under Rafe’s eye. 

“You’re taking his side?” Sarah’s tone gets sharp. “He’s being an absolute drunk asshole” 

Phoebe couldn’t disagree with that. She had been cast aside by Rafe and all of his friends hours ago, so she watched the whole fight brewing from the sidelines. The two groups of guys put a friendly wager on a game of BP that got too competitive once money got involved. 

That was one thing that Phoebe had learned from her time camouflaging amongst the ranks of Kooks: 

Money made everybody act a little bit uglier. 

“I’m on nobody’s side, alright, calm down. It’s not fuckin’ worth arguing over anymore; Rafe’s face is all kinds of fucked and I think Top broke that kid’s nose…” Phoebe rolls her eyes and grabs Rafe’s wrist to lead him away from the big group and thankfully he doesn’t resist. 

“My sister, man…little miss drama queen” Rafe mumbles. There’s a still-sealed bottle of some tequila that was discarded by the row of chaise lounges he and Phoebe sat down at. Rafe pulls the plastic off with his teeth and takes a hearty gulp, barely even wincing at the sting of the alcohol hitting his split lip. 

Phoebe laughs and takes the bottle from him, wincing through a mouthful of the liquid. “You two are just too similar.” 

“No we fucking aren’t” Rafe argues, sounding combative like a child. 

The backs of Phoebe’s bare legs stick to the lounge chair as she tries to scoot closer to Rafe to keep ice on his eye so that the bruise wouldn’t get a chance to darken. “Yes you are. You’re both some of the most hard-headed people I’ve ever met, and you hate being wrong...” 

Phoebe laughs again as she pushes Rafe’s sweaty hair away from his eyes. “And you always go for what you want, even if you do it in a really annoying way” She catches Rafe’s gaze and smiles, letting her cold fingertips linger on his flushed face. 

“That’s how I got you” Rafe nods, leaning into her touch. 

Something uncertain tugs at Phoebe’s stomach. She can’t bring herself to agree or disagree with him. She extends him a shaky, closed-mouth smile that Rafe wasn’t attuned enough to know was fake. 

Their relationship was new but only the formalities: technically she’d known Rafe for almost a year because Phoebe worked as a cart girl at the golf course that all of the Kooks played at. He flirted with her aimlessly, but he also made sure than none of the greasy older men who had never been told ‘No’ had the chance to harass her. It wasn’t that she needed any saving, it was more about Rafe saying something and defending her to people like him, men he still could grow up to be. Judgmental Kooks. 

He’d worn her down over a period of months, slipping twenty dollar bills into her tip jar with messily scrawled notes asking her for her number, or to take her out on a date. Much to Phoebe’s surprise, when she (repeatedly) turned him down, Rafe didn’t get angry, nor was he deterred. Maybe that’s what made him all the more appealing; He seemed to have an all-knowing sense of confidence, like he knew that if he pushed the issue long enough, Phoebe would be worn down with time. And she was. One day she made the snap-decision to say yeah, what the hell and take Rafe up on his offer. He was so taken aback that he asked Phoebe again, just to be sure. Their first date was good, much better than Phoebe had ever experienced with the few boys from the Cut who had the courage to ask her out. Rafe showed up with flowers, a tender formality, a gesture that made Phoebe’s mother say, “Baby girl, if you end up with a boy like that, you’d be set for life…” 

Rafe opened doors for Phoebe, pushed in her chair for her, walked on the part of the sidewalk that was closest to the street and kept a protective hand around her waist. When he dropped Phoebe off at home, he’d idle at the end of her driveway and wait until she got inside safely. He waited until the third date to kiss her.  Phoebe and Rafe had only been dating for four months, but he already said that he loves her. Phoebe didn’t know if she could love anyone or anything that fast, but somehow she knew that Rafe thought what he was saying was true. She’d give him that. 

The two of them sit there in silence watching the moonlight reflect off of the ripples in the pristine blue pool water. Rafe rests his heavy-feeling head in the crook of Phoebe’s neck and she tries to ignore the smell of his salty sweat. Rafe’s hand finds Phoebe’s bare thigh and he squeezes her knee. 

“Do you still have my shit in your purse?” 

There’s a beat of silence. Phoebe jerks her body away from Rafe. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” 

He scoffs. “I think it’s a very good idea” 

Instinctively, Phoebe tightens her grip around the strap of her bag. “This party’s basically dead now any ways, why can’t we just go home?” She moves Rafe’s hand further up her thigh in hopes to further entice him to leave. 

She hopes it works but she knows that it won’t. Phoebe doesn’t like the person that Rafe became when he was doing coke. It made him irrational and angry, which he was when he was sober but the drugs gave him an excuse to act on it and something to blame his behavior on. But she doesn’t say anything — she can’t — Phoebe can admit that she’s enabled Rafe more than she ever should have. She was the one who introduced Rafe and Barry, the first person who convinced Barry to sell her the coke on Rafe’s behalf. Phoebe knows deep down that it’s probably the reason that Rafe has kept her around for so long. She doesn’t think she’s particularly smart, or particularly interesting, just quiet in a way that makes other people think that she’s more mysterious than she actually is. Phoebe never really says much, but that’s because she wasn’t asked a lot of questions. She was an introvert by nature and Rafe saw that as something he could work with. Maybe all he thought about Phoebe was that she was pretty, blonde, and quiet; someone who could help him achieve the power and control that Rafe craved so desperately. 

“We can’t go home because I don’t wanna  go home” Rafe laughs, low and mean in his throat. 

“Right, cause it’s all about what Rafe wants” Phoebe rolls her eyes and stands up to sit on a different lounger. 

“You’re damn right it is, and what I want right now is my shit” Rafe’s tone is tight and emotional, like a toddler who was tiptoeing through the beginning stages of a tantrum. “It’s mine! I bought it, right? With my money — not that you’d have any idea what that was like…” Rafe tacks on the last part just to be mean and make sure that his words pack a punch. 

And they do. 

Phoebe doesn’t say anything, because she knew that if she did she would run the risk of saying something she couldn’t come back from. Because despite everything, her best efforts, however much self-awareness she had about Rafe being bad news, Phoebe knew that in a sick way she really did need him. Girls like her didn’t get out of the Cut without a little bit of help. And yeah Phoebe was smart, but she wasn’t that smart. Not smart enough for it to mean something, or clever enough, or athletic, creative, or pretty enough. And sure her mom ran the old bar out by the docks, The Watering Hole, but that lost more money than it made so the Deluca family really broke even. And Rafe’s family had more money than they knew what to do with, plus they knew how to use people…Phoebe just wanted to take a page out of their book. It wasn’t like she was fully using Rafe, just a little bit. She can’t lie and say she didn’t like reaping the benefits of being around the Cameron family, when the wealth and the status are extended to you by proxy. And it made her feel good sometimes, being able to hold her head up just a little bit higher when she was around certain people. But they called it privilege because that’s what it was. It was something that was granted to you, which means it could be taken away at any time. Phoebe couldn’t risk that. 

She stands up again and doesn’t bother to look at Rafe as she walks away from the pool, back towards the big deck filled with partygoers she had to weed through just to reach the front door. When she breaks through the amoeba of bodies Phoebe pauses in the shadows of the seven-car driveway and finally takes a breath. Fuckin’ Rafe…

Phoebe doesn’t particularly care about the fact that there were a bunch of Kook’s cars around, she hikes herself up onto the hood of the nicest-looking of the bunch and doesn’t care if she scratches or dents it. She rifles through her bottomless tote bag to find the dented-up Altoids tin that held her emergency stash of joints and the little ziplock baggie filled with Rafe’s leftover coke. It’s tempting, but she’s too sober and pissed off to think it’s a good idea, so she chooses to go with the organic stuff instead.  Phoebe lights up and inhales until she can’t anymore and leans her back against the windshield of the stranger’s car, exhaling the last of her worries. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” A deep voice calls out from the hedge line, not sounding upset as much as amused. He steps out of the shadows and Phoebe recognizes his familiar face and tall stature. 

“I know you!” Phoebe replies, unsure if her outburst was a stoned recollection or a preemptive deescalation tactic. But she did know him. He was Hogan Bailey, one of oldest sons of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks. Hell, his family made the Camerons look like a bunch of Pogues. “You punched my boyfriend in the face tonight” 

Which was true; It was Hogan and his friends were the ones butting heads with Rafe and the rest of his pastel army. Phoebe couldn’t even remember what started the fight that evening, maybe something about someone playing beer pong against regulation rules.

“Rafe’s your boyfriend?” Hogan’s eyebrow quirks up, clearly impressed. 

“Usually,” Phoebe rolls her eyes and sighs out a lungful of smoke, stubbing out the joint on the hood of Hogan’s jeep despite the paint job. “Right now he’s on my shit list” 

This makes Hogan laugh. He looks at Phoebe relaxing on the hood of his car, his gaze slow and calculated. “Yeah, you and me both” 

“I don’t know if you remember, but I’ve met you before” Phoebe smirks. She cranes her neck to look over at Hogan and has to pretend that she’s not gawking at his toned arms as on display as he cradles his head in his hands. “Rafe took me to one of the parties over at your guys’ house. I guess its true what they say, you know, out of all the Kooks the Bailey’s do throw the  best parties”

“I literally have no recollection of that” Hogan admits, sounding confused. “I feel like I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” 

Suddenly Phoebe is aware of how close the two of them are sitting and it makes her stomach lurch. On the off-chance that Rafe came out looking for her, seeing Phoebe with Hogan Bailey of all people would be the nail in the coffin. She’d be fucking done for. 

A concept that scared an excited her all in one. 

The rivalry between the Cameron’s and the Bailey’s was something of Kook legends, Phoebe learned. Ward Cameron raised through the ranks of the working class and broke that ceiling only to have to compete against men like Bill Bailey, Hogan’s dad, who hadn’t had to work hard to earn much in this life. Real Kook shit was having old-school money. Real Great Gatsby shit. The Bailey family had come from three generations of wealthy bankers and had a hand in building up the five-star hotels that lined both sides of Beach and Main. Everybody in Kildere County deposited tie money in a branch of Bailey Bank & Trust, everyone had sat through story time at the Lucy Bailey Children’s Library,  or sat on the Grant Bailey Remembrance Bench while they waited for the shuttle bus to the beach. The Bailey family name was woven so deep into the fabric of the Outer Banks that no one ever thought to challenge that until Ward Cameron did. Now, if Bill Bailey was Tom Buchanan, that meant Rafe’s dad was the Jay Gatsby…and everyone who’s read the book (or watched the movie) knows that story didn’t end  well for him. 

The Cameron family came from pretty humble beginnings, and after some pretty lucrative investments Ward made with an unexpectedly large sum of money that an estranged uncle left him, he actually started to bring in some good money. By 25 he founded Cameron Development and by 35 Ward had begun to leave his stamp on the island. And by 40, Ward was a pretty big deal. He became an even bigger deal when he bought Tannyhill and acquired all of the historical materials and artifacts that were left on the property — items he promptly donated to Chapel Hill to preemptively guarantee college admission for both Rafe and for Sarah. It wouldn’t matter much, though. A third generation of Camerons going to UNC Chapel Hill didn’t hold much weight to all four of the Bailey boys getting into Duke on a football scholarship, joining the four generations of Bailey men to attend before them. 

Touchdown. 

It was like no matter what happened, the Bailey’s and the Cameron’s always seemed to be neck and neck. If they weren’t competing to see who could buy the biggest house, or the best boat, they were competing to see who could be the biggest showboat in all of Kildere County. Phoebe knew that both Rafe and Hogan played into the whole family rivalry schtick. She also knows how easy teenage boys got jealous and territorial, Rafe especially. But she’s too fucked up to be thinking with the rational part of her brain so she decides to ignore the raised red flags. Because although she hates to admit it, but Hogan was handsome. He was tall, broad, and strong, his presence was more commanding than Rafe (who just expected to have things handed to him). Hogan was close enough where Phoebe can feel the warmth radiating from his body. He’s handsome and he smells good and Phoebe’s too drunk to care about this being a bad idea. 

Phoebe stays put, though. “You don’t remember?” She raises her eyebrow at Hogan, her head resting of the warm glass of his windshield. “We had a whole conversation, it was honestly quite the introduction. Rafe and I brought you guys a little, uh, party favor to liven up the rancid vibe at your house and it ended up with the two of you and your pals with the pastel shorts all comparing who has the best shit…like any of you really have any idea what you’re talking about.” Phoebe’s too drunk to hide the bite behind her words but for some reason she can’t help but think that Hogan doesn’t mind. 

“Oh, fuck you!” Hogan smirks as he starts to connect the dots. “I remember now. You guys were sayin’ that shit was from fuckin’ Guadalajara or some shit when we all knew it was from Barry the Basehead cause no offense, but you dont look like the type of girl to be able to get your hands on anything better.” He laughs, deep and low in his throat. 

“It was Yucatan” Phoebe corrects, even though it wouldn’t make a difference. 

“Fuck you” Hogan laughs again, but somewhat quieter and more fond. He looks over at Phoebe and lets his gaze linger. He thinks she’s pretty in a homegrown, regular kind of way. He likes her salty beach hair and the fact that she didn’t wear much makeup. And he likes that she has a sharp tongue and was quick witted in a way that Rafe Cameron probably couldn’t understand, let alone appreciate. And he’s drunk enough to be thoroughly entertained by sitting shoulder to shoulder with the girlfriend of the only person he’d consider a rival. 

“Did you want more?” 

The question surprises Hogan. “Huh?” He has to clarify, his mind in the gutter. He thinks that right now he wouldn’t mind some more of her, though.

Phoebe smiles like a sly cat as she reaches down into her tote bag to root around for the plastic bag of white powder that Rafe had left with her earlier that evening (that she refused to give back to him, knowing that he’d keep overindulging). “We can take a trip to Yucatan” 

Both of them know that it’s a bad, idea but it’s part of the appeal. 

Hogan smiles back at her and it’s a silent agreement that whatever was gonna happen would be kept a secret. He slides off of the hood of the jeep and pulls his keys out of his front pocket to unlock the doors. He opens the door for Phoebe to crawl in the backseat. 

‘Quite the choice, Hogan Bailey’ Phoebe thinks, though she doesn’t protest. 

When Hogan closes the car door behind himself, it’s like the two of them are encapsulated in their own little bubble. They can’t really hear the noise from the party, Phoebe can’t hear the noise inside her head that’s telling her this is a bad idea. She knows that Rafe is somewhere inside a few yards away, but he was too fucked up and pissed off to even wonder when Phoebe was right now. Hogan Bailey was there. He was only a few inches away from Phoebe’s face, she can feel his breath fanning over her collar bones. He was twisting a long lock of Phoebe’s blonde hair around his finger, grabbing an old Vampire Weekend cd case from the center console so he could dump out some of the white powder and clean it up into two messily cut lines. 

“Ladies first” Hogan mumbles, his face getting closer to the curve of Phoebe’s neck, pulling her hair out of the way. 

She takes the cd case and the rolled up dollar bill in hand and sniffs up the bigger of the two lines (something she does on purpose because she knows Hogan set that up for himself). The effects are quick and warm and suddenly Phoebe’s heartbeat feels fast and erratic like the rest of her did. Of course she’d done this before, mainly with Rafe, and Phoebe was aware of how much she liked it. It made her feel less nervous, like awkward, more compelled to say whats on her mind, made her not give a fuck about the consequences. And this? There would definitely be consequences. Phoebe knew that if Rafe saw her even saw her cast a second glance in Hogan’s direction, he would be white-hot angry and jealous. And for once, Phoebe thinks, ‘Let him’. Let Rafe be jealous. Let Rafe be hurt the way he’s hurt her plenty of times before this. Maybe right now she was hurt enough to be okay with being the bad guy. 

“You know nothing good’s gonna come of this, right?” 

Hogan snorts up the line of white powder and lets out a throaty groan as the chemical sludge drips down the back of his throat. 

“I don’t know about you, Deluca, but that kinda seems like the point” 

[ghosts-of-love]

TEDTalk Time again >:)

Funnily enough, I've actually been tryna think of songs but to no avail which was annoying cuz analyzing your Cap alongside music is sO fun but then when I wasn't actively searching, a song came to mind. Wild how the brain works. ANYWAYS...

Punching Bag by Set It Off is today's song. Although I won't lie, this one might be a bit confusing since I just thought of it and didn't organize many thoughts but here we go >:)

This empty feeling sets in my chest and I start to worry Try to push it down, cast it out, but I can't control it, ah!

This song is very LtF Cap and his relationship with Damien. These first two lines don't even really need an explanation tbh. But it's basically Cap after a decent amount of time with Damien after that "honeymoon" period they had when they first got together. And all those thoughts of Cap not being worth real love taking place in his mind.

Hanging on by the strings that you're pulling So you cut me down just to push me around

Like I'm your punching bag

That third line is the start of the chorus while the first two are still part of verse 1 which is why there's the space. But any lyrics about being pushed around and shit just makes me think of how Damien just degraded Cap in bed without even caring if he wanted that. And the "hanging on by strings" line, Cap knowing Damien isn't good for him but not wanting to miss out on Damien's "affection".

Take it out on someone who won't hit you back 'Til we're all as broken as you

And this ofc, would be the party. Cap deserved to get a good hit in when Damien was being...Damien. But god it just makes me think Damien absolutely knew Cap wouldn't do anything despite all the antagonizing he did. The fact he fucking choked the man ??? And Cap still did nothing (all while comforting Kitty too. Charlie you're an amazing writer) And that second line ? Well...once Damien told Cap he was married, it went to shit for him. I mean, he was drunk and looking like shit at the party and unsurprisingly took it out on Cap when he saw him. Trying to take them both down. Because ofc, it's not Damien's fault his wife divorced him when she was told he was cheating. Not his fault Cap finally got away from him. If everyone sees how fucked up Cap is then they'll want to drop him too and leave him with nothing.

So say, goodbye to your Mr. Nice Guy You got your wish, he's rotting in hell

I'd say this is Cap immediately after moving. When he wasn't super approachable and still kept to himself. Damien sort of broke him and he decides if he doesn't let anyone in, he can't be hurt. And then it happens again after the party. Just as he's feeling safe and comfortable, the peace is broken and Cap goes back to hiding away after having yelled at his friends when they were trying to help him. He does make things right with them but in those moments, he lashes out and tries pushing people away.

I'm up all night when you think I'm sleeping People pleasing's never good for your health

First line is, again, Cap and Damien sleeping together. That unease Cap felt after they were finished and having to sneak out when really he wanted someone who'd let him stay and make him feel wanted. And that second line is...yeah that's pretty Cap. When he talks about how he's sorta given up on love and intimacy because he doesn't deserve it so he just lets others see him how they want to see him.

On this episode of "Friend or Foe", you're throwing stones

Friend or Foe is obviously Damien. The way he changes from being all interested in what Cap has to say to just getting straight to using him. And Cap having to figure out which one it'll be. Part of him wants to believe "friend" for the simple fact that Damien told him Cap was lucky he was still around. Manipulative mf >:(

I could give you the world, but you'd poison the seas I could let down my guard, but then all that I'd be is just your [punching bag]

God this fuckin line. The contrast between Damien and Cap. The way Cap is so full of affection that he wants to give someone. Even though he's been told otherwise and began to believe it, all he really wants is to be happy and have someone who'll share that with him (*cough* pat <3 *cough cough*) And someone he can actually be around without having to pretend to be something else or shut down his emotions to keep being with them. Someone he feels safe with (god this poor man). But then there's Damien. The complete opposite of all that. If the man wanted that, he wouldn't be cheating on his wife while mistreating the "side piece". Damien who, most likely, was not out and probably was very repressed and couldn't express that in any healthy manner.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk :)

This song goes so hard and has been stuck in my head for days now but I only just made connections to LtF with it. Also there's the "bridge" (second chorus sung differently) that has some nice harmonies. Love your writing as always :)))

hey!! thank you for this! I'm sorry that it took me so long to answer it <3 <3

You're so right that this song has very early LtF vibes, especially with Cap and his relationship with Damien.

I feel like "Hanging on by the strings that you're pulling So you cut me down just to push me around" is also really relevant to when Cap goes to Damien after his mum dies and Damien (in my mind, deliberately) brings up his wife for the first time. He really does just do it to be cruel and also because he realises how much genuine dependence Cap has on him - he wants the dependence but not the baggage that comes with it at all, so he very effectively cuts him off.

"Take it out on someone who won't hit you back 'Til we're all as broken as you" so true, this is definitely about the party! damien never thought there would be consequences for his actions and i imagine his friends and family found out about his cheating and he's no longer in their good books and he really doesn't like how that feels. and then he sees Cap dancing and looking happy with some other guy? despite all the hard work he put in to drag him down? nuh uh not on his watch. but he still knows him well enough, and knows that it's only been like, 4 months and Cap can't unlearn all his shite that quickly.

"So say, goodbye to your Mr. Nice Guy You got your wish, he's rotting in hell"

this is defo Cap immediately after moving and at the party! just the return of the cap who tries to remain detached from his feelings (that kind of dissociating he was doing at the beginning, even before his mother died, leaving damien's at like 4am and going for walks etc, having damien be the puppet master so he didn't have to worry about being in control of his own life).

"I'm up all night when you think I'm sleeping People pleasing's never good for your health"

yes, definitely agree with everything you've said about this!

"On this episode of "Friend or Foe", you're throwing stones"

same with this!

"I could give you the world, but you'd poison the seas I could let down my guard, but then all that I'd be is just your [punching bag]"

this line makes me feel like a punching bag, crikey. i just hate to think of Cap in the early stages of their relationship, trying to be the best version of himself, trying to think of interesting things to say to Damien, trying to be outwardly happy even though he's still fucked up about Havers. and then the slow realisation that he doesn't need to do any of these things at all and that he's misinterpreted this man completely but he's also the closest he'll get to love any time soon.

thank you so much for your TEDtalk!! you know i love them so much!! <3 <3 <3 <3

[heart-forge]

Neopronouns would be great. Ze/hir/hir for sure. I know this one is controversial, but maybe consider... it. It/it/its. If you're unsure about usability of NB words, there's an annual nb survey (gendercensusdotcom) you can check the results of. As for binary pronoun NPCs, maybe refer to them as nb in narration. "There's that enby I know, he's great." Rip off the bandaid. No celebration, but clearly stated. Also there are honorifics like Ind. (individual) or Mx. "There's Ind. Smith, she's great."

I’ve known people who use it, I’ve never seen it as particularly controversial. I get where each side is coming from, I’m mostly inclined to just do what people tell me you know? And generally I go for “person”, I don’t like the word enby. I don’t know why? I think it’s one of those. It doesn’t look like a word that refers to anything to me. I don’t mind when people use it for themselves but like I’ve always been pretty :/ about it, as evidenced by the time I’ve taken to type out NB people all day lol. Honorifics is an interesting way to go for sure though, I’ll keep that one in mind.

[harrystyleseditsx]

If you need me

SUMMARY: A one shot of where y/n experiences something that reminds her of her traumatic past and Harry’s 5000 miles away

based on the song If you need by julia micheals

WARNING: Angst with fluff :) 

pairing: Harry Styles x uni y/n 

wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Welcome to my first fic, I needed to write something to get in the flow to write my 2000 word story so here it is :)) ily guys <3 (also would you prefer y/n or an oc, please let me know!!)

Y/N was very happy about how her morning had been going.

She had woken up early, worked out and made her favorite breakfast. She had also gotten herself some flowers to celebrate the fact that she had submitted her 10 page essay early. The only thing that would make her morning better would be face timing harry but she knew it was 1 pm here meaning it would be 9 pm in London where Harry was and he had a concert to perform. She threw on one of Harry’s treat people with kindness hoodies over her sundress as she headed to the library that would often get chilly or she was just always cold as harry often teased her. She smiled as she remembered harry telling she would overheat if she continued to wear zip ups and pile blankets on herself even during summers. 

She had by now almost reached the library when she suddenly bumped into someone causing the other person to drop some of their stuff. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention-” it felt as if the words were stuck in her throat as she glanced at who she bumped into. 

“Oh hi Y/N” Asher taunted, her ex. She hadn’t seen him since the break up when he told her that he needed space and took off to France only to send her the infamous break up text. And, here he was 6 months later, looking the every bit same. She felt a feeling of anxiety creeping up on her as she started playing with her fingers trying to stop when she saw Asher’s eyes drop to her hands. 

“Are you nervous y/n? Always played with your fingers when you were” he said with a hint of smugness, as he reached his hand forward trying to grasp hers. She immediately pulled back, crossing them against her chest as she took a deep breath. 

“What are you doing here Asher? Aren’t you supposed to be in France?” she snapped at him, her nervousness quickly turning into anger. Asher raised an eyebrow as if surprised at her response. 

“Been keeping tabs on me?” he smirked. “Well forgive me if I wanted to know where my boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend ran off too on our 1 year anniversary” she scoffed.

“Finally grew a backbone y/n?” he drawled looking her up and down. Y/N had never felt the urge to pull someone’s eyeballs out more than she did now. She found herself thinking what she ever saw in this piece of shit. She snapped back to reality as she heard him droning about something.

“..you need me, so I’ll take you back-” he was in interrupted as y/n threw her head back laughing. When she looked at him again, he had an annoyed look on his face. “I need you? Well, I’d like to inform you that you’re wrong again. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone. I managed myself when you left and I’m doing so now too. So, you can see yourself out of my life again” she reiterated. Asher now looked furious, he lunged forward and grabbed her by her wrists as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Is all this attitude because of her famous singer boyfriend? Yes, I know all about him. Is he telling you that you’re beautiful? or that you’re important? because news flash, you’re not y/n. You’re worthless, stupid, ugly and you’ll be nothing without me. You’re a whore” he growled. Y/N felt herself flinch as she heard his words before she composed herself and kicked him in the balls. His grip on her wrists loosened giving her the perfect opportunity to attack. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and jerked it forward, raising her knee and smashed his face against it and then shoved him backwards. She heard Asher yelp in pain as blood gushed out of his. One of his hands was on his dick while other on his nose. She felt a sense of pride and satisfaction rush through her as she looked at him. 

"You bitch, you broke my nose. You'll pay for this" Asher yelled at her. She decided it was best to kick him one more time for good measure and she did, smiling as he groaned in pain. "No, you listen to me. If you ever come near me again or try to hurt me I will fuck up your life and I'll get my famous singer boyfriend to help too" y/n taunted as she turned out to head back to her apartment, she had never been more glad to have her apartment be a 5 minute walk from campus. The whole incident had taken a huge toll on her.

She locked her room as soon as she entered it, leaning against the door as she slowly sank to the floor. She took a deep breath before the sobs broke out. Her entire body was shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to feel as if she wasn't alone in the world. Y/N picked up her phone to send a text to harry but she try made her feel even more shitty. What if he realized she wasn't worth it, what if he had enough of her breakdowns. She pressed her nails into her palm, hitting herself to try to stop herself from feeling too much. She had come so far and now all it took was one interaction for everything to come crumbling down.

//

She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that but her phone rang, she looked at the clock to see it flashing 5 pm. Realizing that it must be harry on the phone, she got up and rushed to the bathroom, quickly washing her face, she laid down on the bed so he could only see half of her face and then accepted his call.

Harry appeared on the screen all smiley and sweaty. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. All she wanted to do was hug him. "Finally picked up, huh? I thought y'were gonna leave me hangin' lovie" he teased her. "I'm sorry, my phone was on silent" she said softly.

Harry realised the change in her demeanor, his smile turning into a frown. "Y'alright honey? Not even showin' me y'pretty face" he said to her. She tried to smile as she moved the camera a bit so he could see more of her face. "I'm just tired H" she whispered. Harry had been moving around, probably trying to find a quieter area. He shut the door behind him as he entered what looked like his dressing room.

"Have y'been cryin' y/n?" he questioned as he saw her red nose and faint traces of year marks on her cheeks. y/n knew there was no point in lying because it was pretty obvious. "Yeah, I didn't do very well in one of the assignments my economics professor had assigned but I'm fine now" she told him adding a smile in the end to make it more believable and maybe Harry would have believed her had he not caught a glimpse of the nasty bruise on wrist as the sleeve of her (his) hoodie slipped down when she was pulled the hood up. Harry was furious and the visible anger on his face made y/n want to curl up.

"What the fuck is that y/n?" he questioned furiously. "What are you talking about? "y/n replied looking genuinely confused. "The fucking bruise on your wrist” harry snapped, by now he had lost all his patience. No one gets to hurt his lovie. 

Y/N was at a loss, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to worry about her but she couldn’t come up with anything to say. “Asher came back, he cornered me and when I tried to go, he grabbed my wrists” she mumbled, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. She dare not glance his way, afraid of his reaction. After a minute of silence, Y/N glanced at her phone only to find the screen to be blank. Had he hung up on her? She stared at the blank screen of her phone in disbelief. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. Opening her gallery, she started scrolling through the numerous photos and videos of her and harry. It was at this time that she was grateful with her obsession of taking pictures and photos. A few tears escaped her eyes as she realized how much she missed him and how he probably didn’t want to talk to her ever. Was he going to break up with her? Y/N’s heart clenched at that thought, she put on harry’s playlist on her spotify and laid there. 

//

She must have fallen asleep because she woke up to the sound of pots clanging. Her heart sped up, no one besides her and harry had the key to her apartment and harry wouldn’t- 

She threw the blanket covering her aside (which had not been there before) and rushed to the kitchen. And sure enough there he was, her boyfriend, with his back facing her. Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes, he came here for her. Harry  turned around to see her standing in the entryway of the kitchen, crying. He reached her in three quick strides, pulling her in a hug. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, fearing he might disappear. Harry pulled back after a few minutes, cupping her face in his hands he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. 

“Gonna properly tell m’what happened now bubs?” he urged. Unable to say anything at that moment Y/N just nodded. Grabbing her hand, Harry led her to the sofa, grabbing her by the waist and seating her on his lap. He patiently waited her to start talking. For a while Y/n just played with his hair, then she took a deep breath and told him everything that happened. She could feel Harry’s grip tightening on her hips, not to the extent that it was painful, when she told him what Asher had said to her. 

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him” Harry cursed when she had finished. “I already did some damage” Y/N told him, smirking as she remembered Asher’s face. Harry looked at her questioningly, “I might have kicked him in the balls and broken his nose and added another kick for good measure” she admitted. Harry grinned, “that’s m’girl” he said proudly, pulling her in for a kiss. They sat like that for a while with Harry telling her about tour and she filled him in with other things that she had forgotten when they had their facetime sessions.

Y/N told him that she wanted to report Asher, in case he ever tried to pull shit like this again. Harry not only told her but also showed her how proud he was of her, how brave she’d been and how much he loved her in multiple ways. 

//

The next day they headed to the dean’s office, where Y/N saw two officers sitting outside. Luckily there were several camera’s in the hallway where Asher had cornered Y/N, so by noon, with all the available proof, she’d gotten a restraining order against Asher. If her were to come within a distance of 6ft with her, he’d serve jail time. As they left the dean’s office, Y/N saw Asher standing , she could feel harry tensing up, so when Asher looked Y/N up and down and smirked, Harry lunged forward punching him in his already swollen nose. Asher yelped in pain, he tried to fight Harry back but by now the officers had restrained him, taking him away. 

Back at the apartment, Y/N tended to Harry’s bruised knuckles as she felt a hollowness knowing he’d be leaving soon. By the look on her face, Harry knew what she was thinking about, he took the cotton swab from her hands, placing it on the table before he kissed her. 

“I’ll be back soon, it’s only a matter of two months now and by then you’ll  graduate and I’ll be done with tour and we can  have everyday to ourselves” harry told her, wiggling his eyebrows. She lightly smacked his chest, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I know, It’s just that sometimes I miss you” she commented. “Only sometimes?” Harry pretended to be offended, “Well a bit more than sometimes” she retorted. “Just a bit more? I miss you so much, it hurts” he admitted. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she pulled him in a hug. “I love you Harry” she whispered and heard him softly whisper I love you too sweetheart. 

That evening Y/n drove him to the airport, they knew they couldn’t outside for long so Harry pulled her in a kiss before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Promise me you’ll tell me anything that happens, I don’t care if it’s just a paper cut or not. Just don’t hide things from me, If when you need me I'll be there" he blurted. “I promise” she said firmly, showing him she was serious. She didn’t want him to worry but he’d eventually know something was up and it was better to sort things out. He kissed her again before he went in the airport. She stood there until he was no longer in her sight before she sat in her car and started driving off. 

Her phone chimed, picking it up she saw that Harry had sent her a image. It was a very poorly drawn graphic of a guy lying on the floor with a crooked nose and blood around him that she assumed was Asher and a girl stood over him wearing a superhero cape. He had written, ‘my hero’. She smiled fondly before sending him a picture of her reaction as she increased the volume of her radio and driving off. Soon. 

. 

This is my first time writing a harry fic/blurb. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I’ve turned on the asks (I didn’t know they were off) so you can send in your requests!! Thank you :))

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

wooohooo MCU gremlins drabble

Thor and Bruce examined the burn patters swirling on the remains of a wall, as Tony and Steve chatted to themselves.

“It’s been a month since these so-called Four Warriors were summoned, and we still haven’t found them. And now we know they have energy-based weapons.”

“But don’t you think that’s strange? These Warriors have been in New York for a month, and this is the first we’ve seen of any sort of attack.”

“Ahem.” Thor stood up. “I’m afraid that you are incorrect, Man of Iron.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Bruce stepped in, data pad in hand, which he passed to Tony. “The burn patterns here are too sporadic to be man-made. They look like natural lightning- or the kind of stuff Thor can summon. If I didn’t know this came from the middle of the city, I’d say the wall was just struck in a storm.”

Tony hummed. “So, what are you saying? Instead of the Warriors running around my city with weapons, they’re running around with superpowers? That’s worse!”

“Tony, you have to calm down.”

The Thunder God shook his head. “Actually, I have seen this kind of lightning before. It was made by a child of the stars- your people do not have a name for their race.”

Steve blinked. “An alien?”

“Yes, but one forged in the heart of a star. That is not the concerning thing about these markings, however.”

“What is it?”

“They are powerful, but wildly inaccurate. Whoever shot these blasts was not trained to use them effectively.”

“Meaning?”

“They are either a non-combatant... or a juvenile. I would tend towards the latter, as a fully grown star child would have more power in their blasts.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “It’s a kid? You’re sure?” He stopped. “Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Shut it, Rodgers. I just remembered something.” He tapped the data pad. “When we fought that weirdo with the staff, we saw a bunch of teenagers.”

Steve made a noise of realisation, and his heart sank. “Four teenagers. I thought they’d been caught up in the blast, so I made sure they got out safely. I only saw two of their faces- but they were definitely just freaked-out kids in over their heads.”

Bruce took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Are you saying he summoned teenagers to do his dirty work? Are you saying the dangerous Warriors SHIELD has been tracking are kids?”

“Most likely stranded kids, if they’re still in the city.”

“Fuck.”

Steve didn’t admonish him this time.

——————————————————————————

A good thing about a city that’s constantly under attack is that nobody looks at a beat-up teenager twice, except with pity. Tommy knew that from back in L’Manberg, and it still rang true in... wherever the fuck they were. New York? He kicked a rock. “Fuckin’ stupid name. I would have come up with a much cooler one.”

Purpled scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Uh huh.” The Starborne kept an eye on the entrance to the alley, fingers flexing around a hidden knife. He wouldn’t be caught unawares again. “You’d have named it L’Yorkberg or something.”

“Like I said, a much cooler name.” Tommy shot his friend a grin, and the wall behind them promptly disappeared. A tall figure with a hood over his face beckoned them through, the wall clicking seamlessly back into place behind them.

Finally, safety. The house they’d found was abandoned, and if anyone had come across it they’d be... confused. Random chunks of soil, sand and marble in perfect cubes were scattered around the room, and every surface was covered with random bits and pieces of machinery.

Purpled swept some scrap metal off of a cube of granite, and emptied out the bag of food he’d snagged on top of it. “I got enough to last us the week. I don’t think they saw me, but we should go to a different store next time to be safe.” Tommy passed the hooded figure a handful of first-aid kits. “Did Tubbo get that fridge working?”

The hooded figure- Ranboo- nodded. “Yeah, put the meat and stuff in it so it doesn’t go bad.” That had been a shock- food in this world spoiling over time. They couldn’t get ill from it, just Hunger, but it was still unpleasant to eat. The worst part of it was that they couldn’t just stock up on bread and wait for someone to find them, they had to constantly go out to get food. At least the first-aid kits were just a precaution.

The ram hybrid in question leaned into the room. “Hey, guys! Did you run into any trouble?” Tommy shook his head emphatically, while Purpled looked sheepish. “No...”

Tubbo put his hands on his hips. “What happened?”

Purpled coughed, embarrassed. “We kind of got mugged. They wanted this green paper stuff we found.” Tommy puffed out his chest proudly, wings flicking mischievously under his hoodie. “Purpled kicked the shit out of them, you should have seen him! Zapped them right through a wall.”

The ram’s eyes lit up, radiation symbols dancing in his pupils. “Sick!”

Ranboo, on the other hand, looked slightly panicked. “Uhm, aren’t we trying to keep a low profile?”

Tommy shrugged. “Eh, we had our hoods up, plus there’s a fuckin’ million people in this city. It’ll be fine.”

Tubbo clapped his hands together twice, banishing the nervous air that had grown in the room. “Right. Ranboo, you’re still banned from the kitchen after the Spaghetti Incident, so Tommy, it’s your turn to cook.”

——————————————————————————

Tony Stark was not good at waiting. It took approximately seven seconds for JARVIS to illegally download the CCTV footage of the attack, and about sixty for everyone watching to see what had really happened. It was still too long for him.

Two teenagers were walking down an alleyway, one in a red hoodie and one in a purple one. They were talking together and laughing about something.

“Red has blond hair, blue eyes, about 6’3. I think he’s got a dyed white streak in his hair.” He’d roped Natasha in for this, her spy training making her excellent at spotting details others would miss. “Purple has lighter blond hair and... purple eyes? Huh. They could be blue too, just a trick of the light. He’s shorter than Red, maybe 5’11?”

One of the teenagers swung his bag at the other with a grin on his face. The other yelled at him. Two older men appeared at the other end of the alley.

The spy’s eyes narrowed. “Two adults, 20-25, Caucasian, wearing beanies and dark clothing. They’re armed, one of them is nervous but the other has done this before.”

One of the men pulled a gun, and the other cracked his knuckles. The teenagers scowled.

“Huh. Interesting. Red and Purple aren’t afraid of them. They look... annoyed, but not scared.”

The man with the gun lunged forward, and was promptly knocked through a wall with a blast of electricity. The other man froze, and the teenager in red hit him over the head with a bag, before bursting into nervous laughter.

Nat’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Okay, now I get why you wanted me to see this.” She looked at Tony. “Mutants? Have you contacted Xavier yet?”

Tony shook his head. “Not just mutants. Thor thinks Purple is an alien. Called him ‘a child of the stars’ or something.”

Shadows appeared at the end of the alleyway. The teenager in red swore, the words clearly visible despite the silent recording. He tore off his hoodie to reveal a large pair of wings, and grabbed his purple-clad friend. The pair flew out of sight of the camera.

“Red might be a mutant, we don’t know. Neither of them are showing up on any databases. No birth records, schooling, missing persons reports, anything.”

Nat sat back in her chair. “Right. You got any idea where they went after this?”

He shook his head. “Not one. We can assume Red landed in a remote area and hid his wings, before meeting up with the other two.”

She rose an eyebrow. “Other two?”

“There were four teenagers at that battle, remember? Just after four great Warriors were supposedly summoned.”

Recognition flashed in the spy’s eyes. “You think they’re the Warriors? They’re a little young.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Steve was pissed when we put two and two together and Bruce nearly Hulked out. Kids don’t belong on a battlefield.”

“What do we do now?”

“Look for patterns. Where we see them, and when. JARVIS is looking through all public cameras right now, and he’s already found Red and Purple stealing food from a nearby store a couple of times.”

“No sign of the other two?”

“Not yet. Although, they could just be better at hiding. Hell, one of ‘em could have invisibility powers or something. Hard to tell.”

She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

Tony recognised that calculating look in her eyes. “You’ve figured something out. Alright. What’ve you got for me?”

She steepled her fingers together. “Put it this way. You’re a kid, and let’s for argument’s sake say you’ve been summoned to an unknown city, possibly even an unknown planet. You’re lost, and you’re evidently not able to get money or food, if you’re stealing from stores regularly.”

“Right.”

“If one of you has invisibility, why risk the visible ones getting caught? Why not just send them instead? No, my money is on Red and Purple being the most inconspicuous.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re the easiest to blend in- the most baseline human-looking. And considering one’s an alien and one has wings, that’s saying a lot. The other two might not be able to go out in public without causing a scene.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about it that way. But it makes sense.”

She shrugged. “Or the other two could be injured. Red was holding a bag full of medical supplies.”

“Shit. We need to find them, and fast.”

!!!!!

:D

[bitchassbucky]

Ｍｅ/Ｙｏｕ

📎Word Count: 1.9k

📎Warning/s: smut! MINORS DNI. toxic relationship dynamics <3 facefucking, sloppy blowjob, facial (not the skincare one), spitting in mouth, biting?, name calling, cheating/affair (bucky cheats), mean!bucky ig, toxic & manipulative!reader (she coerces bucky into cheating... so), alcohol mention, very very very brief sam x reader was mentioned

📎A/N: this was supposed to be a quick drabble but the fic practically wrote itself sooooooo @babyboibucky @sarge-barnes-sir @borikenlove this one’s for my hoes 💛✨

📎reblogs & comments are always welcomed!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The stage lit up as the band finished with a flourish. A roar of cheers and applause vibrates through the entire room, breaking the sweaty and the smoky atmosphere of the bar.

Patrons milled around with their drinks in hand. Drunk people leaning over walls and stools, waiting for their friends to come find them.

Your black-rimmed eyes scanned the room for a viable option. You slowly gaze upon the sea of bar-goers, picking out the best of the bunch.

The girl in a pleated skirt? Still giggling with her friends.

What about the man who’s been eye-fucking you since you got here? Too desperate.

There’s someone leaning over at the edge of the room, but they’re too tall for your liking.

You finished your drink with a sharp gulp, already walking towards the bar for a refill when someone caught your eye.

He looked like a sore thumb sticking out of the crowd. His hair was cropped short, a bit frazzled. A fair shade of stubble showered his sharp jaw, lining over his pink lips.

A smirk played on your painted lips, signaling the bartender for two drinks.

“Hey Sam,” you practically purred. A handsome man tending the bar leans closer to you, bringing forth a couple of shot glasses.

“It’s on the house,” Sam said, sliding a neat square of napkins over your side before placing the drink.

You tilt your head that way and smiled in lieu of thanking. A clink—half a second later, you put the empty glass facing downwards.

“Who’s the new guy?” A genuine question. The subject of the conversation sits patiently behind you, checking his phone periodically.

“A friend,” Sam carefully approaches your question, “he’s dating another friend of mine.” Sam already knows what your game is and how... unstoppable you are, for the lack of a better word.

“Well, that didn’t stop us before, did it?”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet his gaze, beckoning him to join you and Sam by the bar.

“Hey man, what can I get ‘ya?” Sam asked his friend, laying another napkin on his end.

“Just a beer, thanks.” He’s short with words. His steely eyes darting everywhere but you.

“What’s your name?” Now you’re scooting closer, even playing up a stumble when the man behind you roared a boisterous laughter.

He then looks at you, finally, albeit hesitant, “I’m Bucky—are you okay?”

You let a small giggle out, playing coy, “Yes, Bucky, I’m okay.” You stick your hand out, a couple of silver and tungsten rings adorning your fingers.

“Nice to meet you...” Bucky prompted, his large hand engulfing yours.

“Sam’s...friend.”

“Right,” he said, letting go of your hand after a firm shake, “‘m just waiting for my girlfriend.”

Sam already moved away from your area, serving a group of girls by the far end of the bar.

“He always does that,” you pointed out. A shared tidbit of mutual interest. Bucky was close enough to get a whiff of his musky cologne. A sliver of necklace hiding beneath his black shirt.

“Yeah, that’s how I actually met him.” It was unprovoked, what he said, but you kept the conversation going.

“You were with a group of drunk girls?” Your quip made him look at you with a playfully defeated smirk, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. An act that made your thighs clench from under you.

“No, no. Well—he thought that I was some girl’s boyfriend and he gave me a free drink to ‘apologize.’”

You bring up your best laugh, flicking your hair off your shoulder. Exposing your jewelry-adorned neck to him. He gazed down to your chest before clearing his throat.

He was nervous, you—hell, anyone—could tell. His hands were stuffed in his pants, he fidgets by shifting his weight back and forth on his left foot.

“Are you okay?” You looked up at him through your lashes, you were already a mere half a-foot away from him.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair impatiently, checking his phone again. Still no texts. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. My girlfriend’s just taking too long.”

You shot Sam a look before putting your hand on Bucky’s chest, “I know a place where you could wait. It’s quieter in there, you could call her.” Your tone was hopeful—a mutual acquaintance helping out a friend.

Before he knows it, Bucky’s hand was in yours as you guide him through the crowd and into a dimly lit hallway.

The wall was decorated with posters and stickers; pictures of patrons and banned people too.

“In here.” You opened a door, flicking a light switch before fully opening the way to let Bucky through. “This is a rehearsal room, the walls are lined with foam so any noise is filtered—can’t really go in and out.”

The old couch on the back was surprisingly clean and comfy, Bucky settled there as you rummaged around the mini-fridge for another drink.

“Beer?” That wasn’t really a question as you pass him a cold can, sitting down beside him.

He huffed, deft fingers dancing over the screen as he composed a longer text, “she always does this. It’s fucking annoying.”

Like the good friend you are, you scooted over to him, laying a soft hand over his shoulder for comfort.

“Hey, it’s fine. She’s just probably held up right now,” you cooed, a sweet little thing. You take a sip of a drink as he does so.

You give his broad shoulder a brief squeeze and made a face, “you’re really tense, man.”

Comically, he relaxes, letting out a breathless chuckle that sent your core fluttering. “‘m sorry. It’s just—this is our first night out in a long while.”

You hum inquisitively, propping up an arm on the backrest, “have you guys been together long?”

A beat passes before you backtracked.

“Sorry, I haven’t been in a long relationship...” You trailed off, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your pierced ear. You tentatively took another gulp of your drink, your cheeks heating up.

“No, it’s okay. We’ve been together for like, maybe three years, or so?” Bucky looks at you. God, it’s like he’s trying to read you before curating his answers. “Been a long time too.”

“Anything adventurous happening?” You teased him, Bucky’s visibly more relaxed now.

“No, nothing adventurous.” He confessed - an unknown reaction washes over his face as he says it.

“I may or may not know a thing or two on how to make your relationship more exciting.”

“Really? Is that so?” Bucky’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, sending shivers down your spine. He leans over then, getting closer to your face until his face is merely inches away from you.

“Bucky,” you breathe out. Your hands flat against his chest.

He blinks—once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry—shit, I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t be here. I’m gonna go—“ His whole demeanor changed. Bucky stands up, straightening his pants and shirt before looking down at you, still seated on the couch.

He was just three steps away from the door when you slot yourself between him and his way, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside. Outside, I’m gonna wait for my girlfriend outside.” He’s rambling, his ears are going red. A thin sheet of sweat glistening over his forehead.

Closing the gap between you and him, you lay a hand against his chest, over his heart. “Do I make you nervous?”

Bucky stammers out a broken ‘no.’

“No? Why’s your heart beating so fast, then?”

You reached up to his nape, pushing him down to your height to kiss him hard. He didn’t push you away yet, his hands are gripping your arms for purchase. His fingers digging in the flesh of your shoulders. It’s sure to be bruised come morning.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed out as you pull away. His lips shining and swollen, “what did you do?”

“Something thrilling, really.”

Bucky didn’t know how you got on your knees, tugging his black jeans down along with his boxer briefs in a desperate manner.

“God, I knew you were packing.”

His cheeks heat up even more as you palm him, his length hot and heavy against your hand. You lean in and nipped his thigh, your sharp teeth digging into his skin.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but to hiss and slap you across the face, “don’t fucking bite me.”

He expected you to look up at him with tears in your eyes, what he wasn’t expecting is you looking up with mischief and joy glinting in your eyes as you bite him again—harder this time, “God, fuck—you slut!”

Bucky saw red and grabbed you roughly by your jaw, squeezing your mouth open, “you want me so fuckin’ bad, you’re marking me, aren’t you, huh? Such a fucking slut, look at you.”

He squeezes harder, prying your mouth open as he missed your mouth with his spit, “open your mouth—fucking open!”

You obliged, your knees scraping raw as you kneel before Bucky. You feel his spit drip down your chin, the first time he missed. The second one slid down your tongue, prompting him to forcefully tap your cheek close as you swallow.

His angry cock stood dripping with precum; prominent veins making themselves known. You scoot closer, licking his balls up to the crown of his head which earns you a grunt.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky orders. He wastes no time in bunching your hair up in his fist, slapping your swollen lips and cheek with his cock. “This better than your gloss, yeah? Hmm, yeah, ‘course it is.”

Bucky squeezes your mouth again, pushing his thick cock past your lips, your warmth engulfing all of him at once. “No reflex? My god, you’ve been here before, haven’t ‘ya?”

His presumptions were proven wrong when he started to pump in and out of your mouth. You gagged and choked, your throat constricting around his head every time he hits the back. “In and out through the nose, hmm? Yeah, c’mon. You can do it, bitch.”

Once you got past your reflex and relaxing your throat, Bucky took advantage and sped up. His balls slapping your chin when he thrusts in. The neckline of your shirt wet with spit and drool as he continues to fuck your mouth like he owns it.

You hum as you feel Bucky’s cock throb in your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Another set of rough thrusts, Bucky pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He strokes his girth with his hand, with you licking the angry crown of his length. Ropes of cum spurt out, painting a good portion of your face milky white. You managed to swallow it, catching some in your abused mouth.

He stands tall above you, catching his breath as he tucks himself into his pants once more. “The fuck did I just do?”

“Something adventurous.” You smirk, standing up on your own, wiping your face with the inside of your shirt.

Bucky pats down his pocket for his phone, landing his gaze on the couch to look for it. He saunters over, looking for any texts from his girlfriend.

“You know, I’m doubting you even have a girlfriend,” You let out a sharp quip as you smooth your hair down, drinking the rest of your beer.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky retorts, stuffing his phone down his back pocket. Before strutting over a desk and scribbling something.

“What? You came on my face and I can’t say shit?”

He tosses you a piece of paper, catching it on your hand. Bucky gives you a reluctant look before turning the doorknob, leaving you alone in the room.

You unfold the paper then, ‘call me when you’re feeling adventurous’ it says, along with his phone number.

[ragingbookdragon]

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 2

Arkhamverse!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Angst

Author's Note: I have emerged victorious from my second round with the enemy known only as...The Cringe...it was a glorious battle and I FUCKIN' WON IT. Enjoy that I have now edited two previous stories to read better for y'all! -Thorne

Her cowl was discarded somewhere on the penthouse floor, but she couldn’t’ve been bothered to even care about it since most of Gotham either knew who she was now, or they strongly suggested they did. Even if they did know, they still treated her with the same respect as when she was unknown. She moved automatically to the bar as she unclipped the cape from her shoulders, letting it fall with a thud in a heap of leather as she poured herself a generous glass of bourbon. Setting it on the table, she undid her gauntlets, one coming off, and then the other.

She picked up the glass and walked around the bar towards the couch and coffee table. A flashing red light caught her eye and she looked over, seeing the landline blinking on the side table. As she swirled the amber liquor around in her glass, her fingers pressed the button on the answering machine. Her eyes turned to the heavily tinted windows, and she stared at the city below the penthouse as the machine spit out its usual tone.

“You have one new message, Friday, December 19th.” A sigh sounded through the line, followed by a soft and barely cheerful voice. “(Y/N)? It’s me, Dick…calling for…the seventh time this week.” He let out another sigh, and this time, his voice betrayed his feelings. “Look, I know it’s been hard on you since Bruce…died…but I really think it would be good for you if you got out of Gotham for a while, even if it was just coming over to Blüdhaven for a few weeks.” The line went silent, and after a moment, his voice picked up. “…I really miss you sis and I know that you’re suffering from the weight of keeping Gotham in check. Let Lucius carry it for a while and come spend Christmas with me…Look, I have to go to work now, but please think about it (Y/N). For me…and for Bruce and Alfred…they wouldn’t want you to keep all this up…so…just gimme a call back and we’ll plan something, okay? I love you sis…bye.”

The mention of her departed father and butler made her heart tighten so painfully in her chest that it seemed to stop her from breathing and (Y/N) looked down at her glass, seeing a diluted reflection she didn’t recognize staring back.

Lately, it seemed like every time she caught her reflection as Batgirl, she appeared less and less like she remembered, image darkening with every passing night she was out on the streets alone, fighting with no backup, with nobody in her ear telling her where enemies were or encouraging her for a job well done. She could tell that the woman who wore the cowl and the woman who was the cowl were starting to become one instead of two different people, much like her father appeared sometimes. And while it had been his thing when he was alive, it wasn’t her. She was somebody outside the cowl, but now? Now she didn’t know who was Batgirl and who was (Y/N) Wayne—and the divide between was only it was getting worse as it closed closer and closer to the line.

She finally remembered how to breathe and inhaled deeply, shoving it aside and looking back out the window. His image caught in her eye before she focused on the skyline, her voice firm as she said, “You know, I have to wonder…when you kill someone, do you ever get a little voice in your head that tells you it’s wrong…Arkham Knight?”

(Y/N) spun around, turning her attention to the man standing beside her coffee table, dressed in a suit that was armored similarly to his earlier one a few months back, though the colors were different, and he wore a dark jacket with white leather patches along the shoulders and arms. The helmet was different too, instead of mimicking the ears of her father’s cowl, his was simply rounded and crimson in color, though she bet that his visor input ran on the same tech her father’s did. Her eyes briefly fell to the red bat symbol painted across his chest, and for a moment, everything seemed to fade until the anger came back to her.

She clapped a hand to her chest, her voice cheerfully fake. “Oh, silly me, I forgot! You’re not going by Arkham Knight anymore! You’re going by ‘The Red Hood’!” Her voice lost the fakeness, replaced by a hard edge and she leaned back against the window, suppressing the urge to shiver from the chill, her eyes dark. “What do you want, Jason?”

He stood up straight, his head tipping upwards, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were trained on her. “I wanted to see you.”

(Y/N) scoffed, a smile crossing her lips. “Well, you saw me. Now fuck off.”

Jason sighed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, so you mean you wanted to see how I was doing after you ruined mine and the lives of the people I cared about?” He said nothing, and she leaned over, finger running along the button of the answering machine. “You wanna see me, Jason? Well how about you listen to this?”

She hit play, and a message came through. “(Y/N) Wayne? This is Vicki Vale. I really would like to talk to you about what’s happened in the past few months, and with your dad—”

(Y/N) hit the next button, and another voice filled the room. “(Y/N), this is Jack Ryder. Listen, I know you’ve been hounded by reporters since it’s been revealed that your dad was Batman. I want to talk to you about—”

She hit stop, glowering back at him as she pointed to the machine. “Every. Day. Every day I get the same messages over and over and over again. (Y/N) Wayne are you Batgirl? We should talk about it! Your dad was Batman, so you must be Batgirl! How are you going to pay for all the damage and destruction your dad did all these years? How are you going to answer for what he’s done? How can we trust Wayne Enterprises anymore? What’s it like having to pick up the pieces of a broken life after your dad…after your dad…”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth. The tears ran down her cheeks, cascading over her hand, and she glared at Jason, her voice raw with emotion. “Everything that’s happened…is all your fault.”

He took a step towards her, shoulders squared as he placed a hand to his chest. “You can’t blame this all on me, (Y/N). Bruce was the one who activated the Knightfall Protocol—not me.”

Her lips wobbled as she countered hoarsely, “After Scarecrow revealed his identity because of events that you put into place.” She placed the glass on the table, spreading her arms. “So, have you gotten your revenge, Jason? Does it feel better to know that you succeeded in killing my dad? In killing Batman?”

He looked away and something wrathful inside (Y/N) snapped; she picked up the liquor glass and chucked it as hard as she could, missing him by an inch as it hit the wall. It shattered into a million shards as the amber liquid trickled down the wall, and her words came out enraged. “ANSWER ME DAMNIT!”

He met her eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, hands flexing at his sides. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” he said, and she barked a laugh full of disbelief.

“What did you think was going to happen, Jason? Reveal who Batman was, kill my dad, and everything else was just gonna work out in the end?” She pointed to the street below. “I can’t walk ten feet out of this building without being hounded by press and reporters about everything.”

She shook her head, feet carrying her past him towards her bedroom. “You get off scot-free with anonymity and I get stuck cleaning up a giant shitstorm. Figures. You can find your way out.” She hadn’t made it a step past him when a hand shot out and curled around her bicep, pulling her back.

(Y/N) thrashed, trying to yank her arm away from his grip. “Let go of me!”

Jason’s grip tightened, and he grabbed her other arm. “No!” He leaned close to her, his voice firm. “We’re not leaving this alone anymore. We’ve been circling one another since that night, and I’m done playing games, (Y/N). We’re talking about this.”

She huffed in disbelief, staring at him. “There is nothing to talk about, Jason.” (Y/N) waved a hand between them. “What we had…it’s gone.”

“Are you sure it is? Because as much as you seem to hate me, you can’t stay away from me whenever we’re patrolling Gotham together.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, firstly, I follow you to make sure you don’t kill innocent people. And secondly, I’m pretty damn sure what we had is gone. I think about punching you more than I do anything else.”

He hummed, staring down at her and she was starting to get the urge to right-hook him when that familiar smugness set in his gaze. The same smugness he used to pull with her a few years ago when they were together. A memory flashed of Robin and Batgirl arguing, her annoyed and him smug as hell.

“I don’t believe you,” he countered lightly.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe, Jason. The truth is we aren’t together anymore.” She started squirming again. “Now let go of me and get the hell out of my penthouse.”

He fell silent and simply stared at her before responding quietly, “Tell me you don’t love me or that you don’t need me anymore and I will.”

(Y/N) froze and her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” Her voice was a whisper, as Jason released one of her arms, his gloved hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“You can tell me that we’re done all you want, (Y/N).” His hand left her cheek, rising to pull the jacket-hood from his head and yank the helmet off. He tossed it on the couch and Jason gazed at her, his teal eyes boring into hers. “But until I hear you tell me that you don’t love me anymore, I’m not moving from this spot.”

He held his head high, looking down at her. “So, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll go.” Jason searched her gaze. “I’ll go and I’ll never come back.”

(Y/N) stood there, the breath in her lungs frozen as they watched each other. After a moment, she lowered her head and murmured, “I don’t…I don’t…” She stopped, swallowing thickly, the tears that had swelled in her eyes threatening to run down her cheeks. “Oh, fuck it…I can’t do it.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up, covering her eyes even though the tears were already streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t tell you I don’t love you because…I still do love you.” She lowered her hand, gazing up at him. “And I never really stopped…no matter how furious I’ve been at you.” (Y/N) went slack against him, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Damn you, Jason Todd…damn you.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he chuckled lowly, tightening his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back a bit, looking at him teary eyed. “This doesn’t mean everything is okay now. I still want to beat the ever-living shit out of you.”

He huffed. “I know you do.”

Her voice turned watery. “I’m still pissed, and you’re still pissed and we’ve gotta work through that to get better.”

Jason nodded. “We will, (Y/N).” His hands cupped her cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away. “I love you.”

(Y/N) nodded, burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

Do you believe in life after love?

[band--psycho]

Chibs x Reader-Welcome Home

One day, I’ll be able to go onto my Pinterest board without Gifs inspiring me to write stories..but I don’t think that day’s coming anytime soon..so I hope you all enjoy this💛 // Might do a second part 🤷🏼‍♀️

Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

Chibs POV

“You look shattered, brother,” Tig said, walking over to me as I downed my coffee.

“Aye, I couldn’t sleep,” I answered, placing the cup down on the small table next to me as I leaned against the car, my eyes fixed on the entrance. 

“Any reason why that would be?” Juice asked, without even looking I could tell that he had that annoying smile plastered on his face.

“Is it because a certain someone is coming back to town?” Tig taunted as he hit my shoulder lightly.I didn't respond, I just simply ran my hand through my hair as I let out an exhausted sigh. For the past few days, everyone had been like this. Of course it was only in jest, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“Oooo, it’s definitely because Y/ns coming back to town,” Juice continued to tease

“She is my girlfriend, ye know, I’m allowed to be happy she’s coming back,” I pointed out only for a groan to come from both of their mouths as they both rolled their eyes. 

“How could we forget, it’s not like you were going on about it for months on end-” Jax drawled, walking into the garage a playful smirk coming across his face as he placed a hand on my shoulder. 

 “Even after she said yes to being your girlfriend.”Juice to playfully added, Earning an approving smile from both Tig and Jax. 

“Which still makes no sense, she chose you when she could’ve had me,” Tig chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows slightly, but he soon changed his tune when I sent him a warning glare. 

“I’m only joking, brother,” He apologised, putting his hands up in surrender, his actions causing all of us to laugh. 

“When’s she meant to be here?“ Jax asked once the laughter ceased. 

“Any minute now,” as if on cue, a taxi pulled into the car park, a few seconds passed and then I saw her. I knew I’d missed her but I didn’t realise quite how much until I saw her step out of the taxi. Maybe it was the way the scorching California sun was shining on her, maybe it was because of the relaxing holiday she’d had, but she seemed to be glowing.She looked even more beautiful than when she left and I didn’t even think that was possible. All I wanted to do was run up to her, tell her how much I’d missed her and how much I loved her, but for some reason I found myself frozen on the spot. My mouth went dry and I could feel my hands getting slightly clammy, and then it hit me. A small wave of anxiety washed over me as I watched her greet the others who’d eagerly rushed over to welcome her, I never thought I’d be so thankful for the guys swarming towards my girlfriends...but at this moment, I couldn’t be more grateful. I was nervous. Y/n was one of those people that could light up a room, not by doing anything specific, just by being it in. I fell for her as soon as I saw her and I knew it was a longshot asking her to be my girlfriend but I needed to ask her...the thought of not doing it was driving me crazy. So did it and to my surprise, she said yes. I always knew she was out of my league, that’s partly why I was so surprised she said yes to being with me.  Her laugh dragged me back to reality, I knew I probably didn’t have a lot of time, so I wiped my hands on my jeans and took a deep breath, a small smirk coming on my face, desperately trying to act calm and confident as I made my way over to her, the rest of the guys moving away as I got closer. 

“Hey,” She said, a beaming smile coming across her face as I made my way towards her. I couldn’t trust my voice to say anything, so I just smiled back at her and pulled her into my embrace, pressing a kiss on the side of her head. 

“You okay?” She asked, pulling away slightly, the confusion clear in her voice and eyes. I mentally cursed myself for thinking that I would be able to fool her with this act. Acting was not my strong suit and Y/n knew me well enough to know when something wasn’t right. Her eyes locked onto mine, searching for an answer. 

“Just..nervous…” I breathed out, momentarily closing my eyes at the admission that left my lips. In all the years I’d been alive, no woman had ever made me feel so nervous yet so excited at the same time. 

“Nervous?” She questioned, her eyes looking even more confused than before. 

“Aye, just the effect ye have on me love, make me feel like a fuckin’ teenager again,” at my words a small chuckle left her gorgeous lips before a small smirk came across them. 

“Now you know how I feel everytime I see you,” She giggled, a sound that I hadn’t realised I’d missed so much until now. 

“Welcome home, mo ghra,” I muttered before crashing my lips onto hers. Within seconds her soft lips molded onto mine as she wrapped her arms around my neck, lightly tugging on my hair. It felt like we were the only two people in the world in that moment, not that that feeling lasted long of course. Cheers and applause from the guys behind me brought me back to reality, making me pull away from the kiss and causing Y/n to let out another chuckle, her tints growing a deeper shade of red with every second that passed.

“C’mon, I wanna welcome ye back properly,” I whispered, placing another quick kiss on her lips before grabbing her hand lightly and leading her towards the clubhouse. 

“Do we not get to see the show?!” Tig shouted as  I opened the door for Y/n, I simply rolled my eyes at his remark, shaking my head at him as I turned round to him with my middle finger raised before following Y/n into the clubhouse. As soon as I shut the door behind us, her lips were on mine again. Without any hesitation whatsoever, I lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist as I headed towards the bedroom, my lips not leaving hers for a second, ready to welcome her home the way she deserved. 

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[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie. 

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake. 

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim. 

You were fuckin’ dumb. 

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar. 

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self. 

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing. 

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret. 

You had to check on Steve. 

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him. 

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian. 

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here. 

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought. 

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response. 

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason. 

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?” 

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second. 

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again. 

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive. 

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with. 

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you. 

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more. 

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know. 

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one. 

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink. 

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months. 

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance. 

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing. 

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds. 

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired. 

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out. 

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone. 

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.” 

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own. 

How was he so goddamn warm? 

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N. 

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art. 

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully. 

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy...  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.” 

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit. 

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach. 

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve... 

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint. 

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance. 

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own. 

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew. 

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser. 

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it. 

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding. 

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime. 

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia. 

This had definitely not been a mistake. 

Part Two

[arvandus]

Hello! Happy 750!!! So I have this OC with a singing quirk. She’s basically like Giselle from enchanted where she can control the people and animals and occasionally plants and wind with just her voice. However she processes everything around her as music so it’s constantly playing in her head and gives her severe insomnia. She’s also a member of the LOV so I was wondering what her interactions with each of the members would be like but mostly Dabi. Would they find her annoying or fun? Up to you

Thank you! It took me a little bit to dwell on this one, because the idea is so interesting! But I finally got hit by the Inspiration Imagination, and here we are! I hope you like it; I've adjusted it to x Reader per your request, and I hope you don't mind I took just a little bit of creative license for the Reader's perspective and how to describe her quirk.  I also kept it very Dabi-focused in the interest of time.

Dabi x F!Reader w/ a singing quirk (SFW)

💙 It would be a rocky start at first. Dabi would have difficulty trusting you, simply because your quirk is so powerful. Anything that could potentially take away his free will would make him mistrustful and want to avoid said threat like the plague - or remove it entirely.

💙 But Shigaraki says you’re off limits, so he settles to keep you at arms length while at the same time keeping a close watch on you. One wrong slip, and he’ll handle you himself (or so he tells himself).

💙 He also mistrusts you because… well… as a fellow insomniac, he knows that you’re up at all hours of the night. He’s not sure why, of course… he never knocks on your door to ask. But he hears you shuffling around in your space, pacing in your room. What could possibly keep you up so late every single night? What’s got you looking so exhausted every day as if you never sleep? He’s convinced that you’re a spy, somehow sending messages to their enemies when everyone is asleep. Except he never hears you leave your room. Never hears you talking to anyone. So there must be something he’s missing.

💙 You’re an enigma to him, and it drives him crazy. Dabi doesn’t like unknowns.

💙 On your end, Dabi drives you nuts. He’s an asshole, every word that falls from his mouth laced in backhanded compliments and passive-aggressive accusations. You’d come close to using your quirk on him on many occasions, just to make him shut up or leave the room. Fortunately for Dabi, you have a personal code of honor that you abide by, and controlling people through your singing is only reserved for your enemies.

💙 He’s not your enemy… not yet at least.

💙 You know why he doesn’t trust you, and you don’t blame him… and he's certainly not the first person to be suspicious of you. But does he really gotta be such a dick about it? You try to be upfront with him, to explain that you live by a code and he’s safe from your quirk, but it makes little difference. Dabi doesn’t trust easily, and promises mean very little to him.

💙 His trust is finally gained when you use your quirk to save him and the other league members from certain death. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of hearing the beautiful notes of your voice while in freefall and then feeling himself being caught on a strong wind current, only to be set safely on the ground seventy meters below.

💙 After that happens, he begins to take an even greater interest in you, but this time with more curiosity and less mistrust.

💙 He starts poking and prodding, some questions being asked directly, while others are only implied. After all, he loves his little mind games, and even more so, he loves getting under your skin, especially since you refuse to use your quirk on him. It’s basically given him a ‘get out of jail free’ card for being a brat.

💙 He really, really wants you to prank the others using your quirk. And your little miss “I’m a good girl with a special code of ethics” makes the game that much sweeter. After all, you’re just as much a villain as the rest of them. If Toga can go around swinging her knives from her fingertips, then why couldn’t you sing a little song now and then?

💙 But Dabi quickly learns that you’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so.

💙 Even so, it’s frustrating for you because if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have put up with this level of bullshit. The persuasion, the flirting, the school-yard level dares… the man has no shame and tries every tactic in the book to try to get what he wants from you. What makes it even worse is that a secret part of you enjoys his mischief. His ideas are tempting sometimes. Especially when the other league members annoy you.

💙 On top of all that, he is strangely alluring, even with his scars. And more importantly, the ‘song’ his body gives off is, well, a pleasant one to say the least.

💙 Every person has a ‘musical aura’ more or less, a small symphony of heartbeats, breaths, and something more… ephemeral. It comes through in the way they move through the environment, in the way the air particles are displaced around them and vibrate with their energy.

💙 And for some reason Dabi’s song is practically intoxicating, just like his sharp blue eyes that always seem to pin you down, heavy lids held up by a cocky smirk.

💙 The two of you reach an impasse in your battle of wills, an unspoken stand-off that never wanes. And it’s upon this competitive dance that the two of you begin to build some strange sense of camaraderie.

💙 He’ll eventually give up on his desire for pranking his comrades when he sees you use your quirk on heroes. But not just any hero, of course…

💙 Imagine Dabi’s glee when you use your song quirk to make Endeavor literally dance as the large man’s face flushes red with rage. It was intended to keep him busy while the League made their escape. But it makes it all over the news of course, and becomes viral online for months. The laughter that the two of you share when you get back to the hideout lasts for hours as you watch the news replay the scene over and over it. It really never gets old.

💙 Oh man, does he like you even more now. You’re his new favorite person. And he finally stops harassing you about using your quirk on the League members, instead finding much greater enjoyment in targeting different heroes together.

💙 There will come a time that he’ll catch you on one of your many insomnia-induced nights. It’s a hard one, sleep being kept at bay by the musical cacophony surrounding you, despite your obvious exhaustion. Your strength finally shatters, and you break down into tears in your room in frustration.

💙 Guess who ends up knocking on your door?

💙 Of course Dabi heard you. For months he’s been listening to the pacing of your feet or your frustrated sighs through the thin, old walls. It’s almost become a lullaby to him by this point, a way for him to know that you’re safe and sound… more or less.

💙 “What’s wrong, doll?” he’ll ask, as he stares down at your tear-streaked face. “I can hear ya through the walls, so don’t gimme any of your bullshit excuses.” Anyone else would hear the mockery in his voice, but for you with your quirk, you can hear the song of caring weaved through them, a hidden secret that you’re sure even he doesn’t realize is there.

💙 He won’t wait for an answer as he enters your personal space and makes himself comfortable.

💙 His sudden presence and that comforting familiar song it brings with it soothes more than you’d like to admit.

💙 But you do admit it. You admit to everything. The fatigue you feel, the way your quirk makes you suffer, and how for some reason, the song of him puts you at ease, drowning out the other noise. It’s like your inner radio is tuned just for him. Normally you wouldn’t admit to any of this of course, but you’re well past the point of exhaustion now, and your brain isn’t running as smoothly as it normally would. So what did it matter if you told him everything? You really didn’t have the strength to care anymore.

💙 “Your quirk is fuckin’ weird.” he admits. Then a grin will spread across his face. “You like my ‘song,’ huh? C’mere.”

💙 He’ll have you lay down with him on your bed and hold you close to him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin in your hair. “Does it help?” he’ll ask.

💙 Shockingly, it does. His music surrounds you, and you close your eyes as you let it cover you like a warm blanket. Everything else seems to fall to the wayside, your tired brain only able to focus on one melody - his. Before you can even nod in response, you’re fast asleep.

💙 It’ll become a habit for you two now… On particularly hard nights, he’ll keep you company and hold you. And maybe… maybe he’ll start letting you keep him company when he has hard nights too.

[atlabeth]

transferred part four - atla smau

TRANSFERRED - zuko x fem!reader

masterlist | part 3 | part 5

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

warning: cursing

a/n: IM SORRY I KEEP SWITCHING POVS the one at the end is katara lmao

taglist:  @ourbestfriend-mishacollins , @lil-lex1 , @xxshad0wxb1rdxx , @zuko-is-the-sun​ 

You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and got out of your car, taking a few moments to stretch out your arms and legs after the long drive. It was a little weird to think that this was going to be your new home and university, especially after so long in Kyoshi, but you were honestly looking forward to the change. After the disastrous breakup you endured, it was time for a new chapter. 

Your eyes instinctively snapped over to where you heard a noise, and a huge grin broke out on your face. Two people were coming out of the complex, and they were none other than your two roommates. 

“Sokka, Aang!” You yelled as you ran towards them. You barreled into Sokka and wrapped him in the tightest hug you could muster, looping Aang into it as well for a few moments before you pulled away, smiling so wide your face hurt. 

“Aang, it’s so good to see you, and Sokka — Sokka, you’ve gotten so tall!” You mussed up his hair with your hand which he swatted away. 

“It’s good to see you too, Y/N, but it hasn’t even been that long! And I don’t know how many times I have to remind you that you’re only a year and a half older than me!” 

“Sokka, I haven’t seen you since I moved to Kyoshi for college. It’s been far too long.” You gestured with your head for them to follow you as you started walking over to your car. “And Aang, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you too! You better be treating Katara well.” 

The shorter boy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, faint red tinting his cheeks. “I like to think I am, we’re really happy together. She’s the best person that I know and the most beautiful girl ever and she always h-” 

“Okay, that’s enough! Seriously Y/N, you don’t have to whip out the interrogations right away.” Despite his complaints, Sokka gave you a genuine smile and you could tell he was just as happy to see you. 

“Whatever. I’m gonna need all the details on everything that’s been going on the past three years. The occasional facetime call has not been enough.” You went to the back of your car and opened your trunk where most of the boxes were, turning your head when you heard another car pulling up. 

“That’s Katara’s car!” Aang exclaimed. “That must be her and the other girls!” 

The car pulled in two spots away from you and as soon as it stopped, an auburn-haired girl jumped out of the driver's seat and streaked over towards you, wrapping you in an even tighter hug than you gave Sokka. 

“Suki!” She was practically suffocating you but you were so glad to see her that you didn’t even care. “I’m so glad you’re here!” 

“Like I would miss my best friend’s moving day?” The two of you pulled away and went through your increasingly elaborate handshake, ending in a hip bump that caused you both to dissolve into giggles. “You look amazing, Y/N. It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been together.” 

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’m here to stay! At least for the next four years.” You laughed and looked over to where your sister was helping Toph out of the car and gave her a wave. 

“As much fun as I’m having with all these greetings, we gotta start moving these fuckin’ boxes! At this rate, I’m gonna be sleeping outside.” You hugged Katara as well when she walked over, then you picked the first box up and motioned with your head for everyone else to get one as you started walking backwards towards the apartment. “Toph is the only one who’s exempt from this, everyone else gets a box and s-” 

You stopped in the middle of your sentence when someone bumped into you from behind, causing you to nearly drop your box. You were just as surprised when you felt hands on your waist, keeping you steady and helping you regain your balance. You turned your head and could immediately feel your cheeks heating up as you hastily moved away, laughing nervously and occupying yourself with the box in your hands. 

“Hey! Zuko! Nice to meet you! It is Zuko, right?” His golden eyes seemed to burn into you, but they were offset by his kind smile and the casual nod he gave you. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry I’m so late, I was showering. I didn’t think you were gonna be here so soon.” He waved at Katara and Suki and they smiled back at him. 

He was even more attractive in person. His jet black hair, still a little wet from his shower, hanging just above his eyes was really doing it for you, and god, his eyes. They were intense, but more like a comforting campfire than a raging wildfire. You didn’t even realize you were staring until Sokka elbowed you. 

Your eyes widened slightly and you quickly averted them, adjusting your hold on the box and letting out another nervous laugh. “Now that we’re all here, how about these boxes, huh? I don’t have that much stuff because I’m broke, which is good for all of you.” 

You had gotten out of your flustered state by the time that everyone had a box in hand, save for Toph, and conversation flowed much easier while you and the rest of the group walked into the complex. 

“How was your drive, Y/N?” Zuko asked, holding the door open with his back as you all filed inside.

You shook your head and scoffed as you hit the button to call the elevator. “As boring as you can imagine. Traffic wasn’t horrible, but I swear I hit every single light on the way here. My music was the only thing that kept me sane.” 

“One pro of being blind is that I always have company in cars, but it also kinda sucks when the only source of conversation you have is Sokka or Katara,” Toph said with a teasing grin. 

“What?” Both of the aforementioned yelled at the same time, causing everyone except them to dissolve into laughter. 

“This is what I missed. I don’t even have to make up for three years of missed teasing because Toph’s had it taken care of.” You patted her on the shoulder as the elevator door opened and everyone filed in. “What floor are we on?” 

“Three. There’s a lot of foot traffic and we have some very annoying neighbors, but it’s one of the cheaper places here!” Sokka pushed the button and the doors closed. 

“Sounds.. fun!” You couldn’t really complain because you had practically begged for Sokka to let you live with him, plus you couldn’t afford anything more than splitting rent four ways in a cheap apartment. “Is there anything else I should know?” 

“Sokka never washes his dishes and only takes out the trash if you yell at him to do it. Zuko always leaves his towels on the ground but he’s a neat freak so the cleanliness of his room leeches into the rest of our apartment, it’s great. And I’m a perfect roommate,” Aang said with his smile that could convince you to give him everything you owned. 

“That is such a lie, Aang! I do everything that I’m supposed to do; your room is a mess that can’t even be cleaned up by Zuko, plus you stay up super late all the time talking on the phone to Katara! Thin walls buddy, THIN. WALLS.” 

“Do you want to talk about thin walls? Because you play your music as loud as possible, and somehow it’s always when I’m trying to study! And every time we drink, you become a huge mess.” After Zuko put his word in, the three boys all started arguing. You made eye contact with Katara and Suki; Katara gave you a sympathetic smile but Suki just grinned. 

“Alright, boys! We’re here, so kindly shut up.” You elbowed Sokka in the side as you walked out of the elevator, giving him an innocent smile when he scowled at you. “Lead the way, bro.” 

~~ 

It took about ten minutes to get all of your boxes in the apartment with six people helping you, and though the girls wanted to stay they had to get back for some stuff relating to their classes. You thanked and hugged them all, and soon it was just you, your brother, your sister’s boyfriend, and the guy that you thought was hot. 

You spun around in the living room before collapsing onto the couch, spreading your arms out above you and sighing heavily. “I feel like I could fall asleep right here.” 

“I hope you can because that’s where you’re gonna be sleeping.” You looked up at Sokka with shock, and he stared back at you for about five seconds until he started laughing. 

“Ah, you should’ve SEEN your face!” He managed to get out through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Do you enjoy causing me pain?” 

“Very much so.” 

“You and Sokka are sharing a room, Y/N. Aang and I are in the other. And don’t worry, there are two twin beds in each so you don’t have to share share,” Zuko explained quickly. 

“Oh, fantastic. My boyfriend always snored a lot so I’ve gotten very good at tuning them out. You’re lucky that I’m the best roommate ever, bro.” 

“First you invade the sanctuary that is my home, and then the sanctuary that is the group chat for the home, and now you embarrass me in front of all of my friends for no reason? You are not my mom!” 

“Come on Y/N, we can show you around your room and the apartment.” Aang interrupted Sokka’s spiel, still going on in the background as the two of you walked over to a door with a large band poster on it. 

Zuko watched your retreating figure with a small smile on his face until you disappeared into the room, snapping out of his trance when Sokka started pulling him towards the room, grumbling about how ‘no one appreciates my genius’ and ‘can’t believe they left me’. 

[xans-ex]

Otherside (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Different Dimension/Alternate Universe. Heavy angst, smut, and fluff throughout multiple parts.

Word Count: 4254 words

Chapters-

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

*WARNING- Strong Language, Explicit Sex(Not in this chapter), Explicit Sex Talk/References(Not in this chapter), Violence, Talks of Violence*

This is the second part to the story :) I will include a little of the first chapter in the beginning just with how the second chapter starts, so bare with me ya'll. Also fun fact, when I write I usually find a song that overall gives me the vibes for the story, and the song that helped me write these two chapters is Sextape by Deftones :) Give it a listen-

Jungkook watched as the figure turned back around and ran across the other room and into the room on top that he knew gave stairs to the building. He was stuck. Now here bleeding out only to be given to police. This is it.

You stared at the screen in disbelief. There was no way this was how your brother was going to end this chapter. No fuckin way. You looked around in confusion before your eyes fell on the pencil in its holder. You wondered if you should erase it. Then when your brother hopefully comes back, you can tell him that the police accidentally wiped it and then later on convince him to have a different ending. Yeah...That would work. You grabbed the pencil, the thick handle sitting comfortably between your fingers. You hit the eraser icon and as soon as the pencil tip hit the screen, you felt warmth.

Almost like you were sucked into a hot room. A sauna, but without the humidity. It was bright for only a second, and then it was dark. You blinked slowly, your head pulsing. "Ow..what the fuck..." You groaned as you rubbed your temples. Your hands started to lift you from the ground, and you paused as you felt the feeling of concrete and small pieces of rocks. You looked up, the wind blowing your hair as you looked around. You slowly stood up, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinting from the lingering headache. You froze.

The city. How? You...You were just in your brother's room. At your parent's house. In the countryside. Did you never leave your studio apartment? But why were you on the roof? Was this whole time of visiting family only a dream? You looked around in disbelief before hearing a faint moan. You whipped your head around and saw someone laying on the ground, a pool of red under them.

"Are-Are you okay?" You asked, quickly running to them. You knelt down next to them, looking at their wounds. I-It's okay! I'm a nurse. I can help you..." You trailed off as soon as you saw his face. Jungkook. "Jungkook-" You slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as you said his name. He looked up at you, his face a twisted mix of pain and confusion. "Do I know you?" He choked out. "N-No. Um...what happened?" You asked. He scoffed. "You're a nurse. You should know..." He trailed off. He was going in and out of consciousness.

"Fuck, um...I'mma call 911." You said, reaching into your pocket and grabbing your phone. You paused when you saw you had no connection. "D-Don't call the police." Jungkook came back from consciousness, his eyes wide. "I need to get an ambulance for you, you're bleeding out." You looked at him up and down, his blood slowly pooling out as he lost more and more blood. "Please...no." He whispered. You looked around, hoping to see someone but there was none. "So do you just want to die out here?" You asked.

You didn't mean to sound mean, but he was being ridiculous at this point. "No...just...you're a nurse, can you take me to your place? I'll like...pay you or whatever to help me just please don't." He was pleaded but it all sounded like a stupid idea to you. Plus, did you even live here?

"You're fucking stupid, no! You've been shot, I have no idea what arteries might've been hit in that leg-" You panicked and Jungkook closed his eyes. He was really about to die out here. With a stupid, useless nurse. Which made it even worse.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll just die." Jungkook said. You gaped at him. "No fuckin way, come on, I'll take you to the hospital myself. Is there an urgent care near?" You asked. "You don't know? You found me." He winced as you grabbed his arm, putting it around your shoulders and slowly helped him up. "I'm um...not from around here." You murmured. Jungkook looked at you, his eyes scanning your face as you chewed at your bottom lip. "How annoying..." He grumbled. You contemplated dropping him back down and letting him bleed out, but then you realized that you'd have this man's life on your mind forever, and you don't want to deal with that trauma.

You two slowly but surely went to the open stairs of the building, making your way down. "Can we use an elevator? You're heavy..." You complained. He was practically dead weight against you, and as strong as you might think you are, a dead weight body is incredible heavy. "No fuckin way. The cops will find me that way." Jungkook was very stubborn, and he was starting to piss you off. "Fine. Then put more work in. You're fat and I can't carry you down all these stairs."

Jungkook rolled his eyes but started to carefully take some of his weight off of you, not wanting to do too much because he was still weak from losing so much blood. Eventually you two make it out the building from the side door, and stumble a couple blocks to a nearby urgent care. You sighed in relief when they took Jungkook into a stretcher and started taking care of his actively bleeding wounds as he was wheeled off. You sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, your right side stained with his blood.

"Are you his family?" A nurse asked as she stood in front of you. You looked up at her wide eyed "Uh, oh, no. No, I'm just a nurse. I happened to find him and took him here." You combed your hair back, your bangs sticking to your forehead with sweat. "Oh? Where do you work?" Your mouth opened and closed before opening once more, thinking of how to even respond. "Um...is there a bathroom I can wash up in?" You stood, the nurse stepping back with a confused expression before nodding and pointing you in the direction of the bathroom.

You hurried into the large bathroom, locking the door behind you. You sighed, looking yourself in the mirror and gripping the sink hard, your knuckles almost turning white. "What in the ever loving fuck is going on?" You hoped your reflection would reply. Tell you this is all a dream. This is a dream. Yeah, it's a dream.

You washed your face, hands, and legs, already giving up trying to clean the blood from your pajamas when it seemed to just spread and make your skin wet and sticky. "Fuckin hell..." You sighed before leaving the bathroom and sitting back at the waiting area, away from any nurses who may walk past to avoid any further questions.

-

You felt like you were there for hours. You were there for hours. The sound of people crying and alerts over the intercom helped drown out the sound of your own thoughts. Your mind could beat Usain Bolt right now with how hard it was racing. You just sat quietly, cross legged at the ankles. You should leave. You kept telling yourself that, but at the same time you wanted to stay. See if he was okay. Maybe it's because you kinda pretended as if you were waiting for your brother. Hopefully not in these circumstances but to hope he was okay, might bring you some clarity. "Excuse me..." A doctor said as she walked over to you.

You silently hoped there would be no more questions. "Are you with Jeon Jungkook?" She asked. You slowly nodded. "He's fine, in stable condition. Luckily the bullets missed all the important organs and arteries. The bullet in his leg shattered and we had to take those out so please come back if there's any complications after discharge. But luckily the bullet in his abdomen went straight through with no massive damage so that was an easy fix."

She explained everything to you and you sighed in relief. This means you can leave. Finally. "He is ready to see you now." The doctor interrupted your thoughts. "Ex-Excuse me?" You couldn't stop your constant stuttering. "He has requested to see you." You opened your mouth but no words left you, so you simply nodded and followed the doctor through a set or doors towards the patient rooms.

"He's in here. Our visiting hours are over in an hour." She said, nodding to you before walking off. You looked back at her as she left, then turned towards the sliding door of the patient room. Your hand reached out to grab the handle, your fingers wiggling slightly with nervousness. "Annoying Nurse? I know you're there." You could hear Jungkook's deep voice from the other side of the door and you huffed, sliding the door open and going inside quickly. "Annoying nurse? I have a name you know."

"Never told me it, so that's your fault." Jungkook looked at you from his bed, his hospital gown slightly open showing a wrap around his abdomen. You then glanced at the cast on his leg, and the stack of pillows keeping it elevated. "My name is (Y/N), so you can stop calling me annoying. Please." You sighed, taking a seat next to his bed. "Fine. But only because you said please." He smirked. You rolled your eyes. "I just wanted to say thank you. For saving my life." You looked Jungkook in the eye, his eyes on his hands which were picking at his individual fingers.

"No need to thank me. It's my job." You gave him a soft smile. He looked over at you, and matched his smile with yours. "You work here?" You bit your bottom lip. "No...I uh...I work somewhere else. Out of town." You said it so quietly Jungkook almost couldn't hear you. "Oh...okay."

The silence was so uncomfortable you debated just getting up and leaving now, which you thought would be perfect. "Well, visiting hours are probably already over, so I will get going now." You laughed awkwardly, standing up slowly and wiping your sweaty palms agains your pajama shorts. You turned to walk out the door but then a hand reached out and grabbed yours.

You turned back around and saw Jungkook's bandaged hand engulfing your smaller palm. "Can you come back tomorrow?" He almost had puppy dog eyes with the way he looked up at you. "I...I don't know..." You started. "I'll pay for lunch...or dinner. Or whatever you want. Please?" You thought to yourself. "Hmm...fine, but only because you said please." You teased, and Jungkook snorted. He gave you a toothy grin and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly with his hand still wrapped around yours.

"Goodnight Jungkook." You pulled your hand from his grasp and slide open the door to his room. "Goodnight...Y/N" He said as you closed his door. He looked around the hospital room and sighed. "Such an annoying nurse." He chuckled.

-

Now that you were finally out of there, you could properly freak the fuck out. First off, where the fuck are you? Second, why in the fuck is Framed character, Jeon Jungkook, in the same world as you right now? Third, what in the fucking fuck? Fuck? You raked your hands through your messy hair, the reality of everything setting in. What if you're stuck here? What about your family? Your friends? Your job???

You rubbed at your temples. Okay (Y/N), don't stress yourself out too much now. Maybe if you just...go to sleep...you'll wake up back at home. It's a dream remember? You looked around. Where the fuck will you go? You contemplated everything and just realized you should probably just stay at the hospital. You had nowhere to go.

As you made your way back to the entrance doors, three cop cars pulled up and cops started to jump out their cars. You jumped back in surprise. "Are you alright?" One of the officers said, looking at your blood stained clothes. "Y-Yeah I'm fine, I was dropping off a friend." You stammered. The officer looked you up and down curiously. "Well anyways, have you seen this man? He is currently wanted by police." The officer scrolled on his phone before showing you a photo and you almost choked on your spit. A picture of Jungkook was staring right back at you, his purple dyed hair a mess. It's a mugshot.

"Uh...no. Why? What did he do?" You looked at the officer, trying to hold your composure. Why in the hell was there a mugshot of Jungkook? Is that why he wouldn't let you call the police? "We can't say that. Just wondering if you'd seen him." The officer asked once again, as if telling you to just own up to it.

Like hell you were going to do that. You got questions and this little criminal needed to give you answers. "Nope. Never seen him. If you'll please excuse me, my boyfriend was shot and I'm here to make sure he's okay." Your mouth was moving faster than your brain. Boyfriend? Why in the fuck did you say that? The officer's right eyebrow raised curiously. "Did you shoot him?" You cocked your head in confusion before remembering your current attire.

"N-No! I saved his life. Now...please excuse me." You pushed past the officer as you made your way back into the hospital and into the elevators to go to the patient rooms. Once you arrived on the correct floor you snuck past the nurses station, knowing if they saw you they'd tell you to go home since visiting hours were over. Once you got to Jungkook's room, you quietly slide open the door and closed it once you were inside.

"You're back?" Jungkook's voice could've startled you if you weren't already freaking the fuck out. "Jungkook...I just got stopped by the cops." You looked over at him and you visibly saw his adam's apple bob from the gulp he swallowed. "Yeah? And?" This fucker is playing dumb. "And? Jungkook you're wanted by the police! What did you do?" You exclaimed. "Okay, say it louder for the security down the hall." He rolled his eyes, his arms folded across his chest as he huffed, annoyed.

"I didn't do anything." Your eyes could've popped out your head with how hard your eyes were bulging at him. "The police seem to think differently. They showed me your fuckin mugshot, dude." You sat next to his bed, your hands raking your hair with frustration. "That was from something unrelated. This time...it wasn't me." He looked like he really wanted you to believe him. "What happened?" You just wanted to know. You weren't sure if you were sitting with an innocent man or some kind of killer but it would help to make sure?

Jungkook paused, his eyes dashing around as if he was thinking if he should even tell me or not. "Fine...don't tell me." You were starting to get annoyed. You were hoping he would trust you, with you saving his life and all, but that didn't seem to be the case. "(Y/N)..." He started but you were quick to shut him down. "Forget it. Good luck with your case." You slide open the door, your face turned pale when you saw a nurse walking with a police officer.

You slide the door shut once more, and Jungkook looked at you curiously. "Jungkook...the police are here." You whispered. You felt the room go cold and Jungkook looked around nervously. "We gotta go." He started moving, ripping his IV out his arm swinging his leg over the bed with a groan. "Wait what? What the fuck? N-No!" You walked over to him, trying to push him back by his chest. He pushed your hands away.

"I'm not about to be taken for something I did not do." He was angry. Frustrated. You hesistated, watching as he stood and grabbed his bag of clothes. "I'll...I'll help you." Jungkook turned towards you. "You will? Even though you don't know if I'm some crazed killer or not?" You pursed your lips. "Is that what they're trying to arrest you for?" Jungkook took a deep breath in, not saying anything else as he limped towards his things that were put into a hospital bag and then slipped on his hospital slippers.

He turned towards you again, looking you over once more as you stood there. "Are you just gonna stare at me or are you gonna come with me?" You nodded, going over to him and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulder once more. You slid open the door, looking in the direction of where the nurse and officer were and not seeing them. "They might be talking about you, we gotta go." You whispered and Jungkook nodded, following you towards the nearby stairs.

"Wait, can we use the elevator?" Jungkook looked at you as if you were the dumbest on earth. "You truly are the most annoying person I've ever met." He let go of your shoulder. "You go on the elevator, distract the nurse and cop, and meet me on the side of the building. I'll call someone to pick us up since you apparently don't live around here." He rolled his eyes and opened up the door to the stairs, wincing slightly in pain.

You nodded, ignoring his earlier remark and started for the elevator. Right as you were close, the nurse and cop you saw earlier spotted you. "Excuse me? Visiting hours ended a while ago." She said. You looked at her apologetically. "Sorry...my boyfriend was shot and I just needed to see him one more time. Bring him some snacks and stuff." You continued heading for the elevator, ignoring the calls from the nurse and officer as you pressed the first floor button and mashed the 'closed elevator' button repetitively.

Once you got to the first floor, you walked calmly out the door, ignoring the looks from the earlier officer that questioned you earlier. As soon as you touched the outside, a large exhale escaped your lungs. How long were you holding your breath? As you walked, you heard a low voice call out to you. "(Y/N)." Jungkook called for you in a silent yell. You hurried over to him, grabbing his arm once again to help him balance himself.

"Where is your friend?" You looked up at him. "Behind here." He started walking and you tried your best to help him along the way, the weight of his body was a little easier to handle now. He wasn't extremely heavy, but the amount of muscle on him did add to his weight and made it a little hard to keep hold of him.

As you kept walking you noticed a car parked with its lights off. You opened the door and Jungkook slowly sat into the back seat, wincing and groaned the whole time. You tried to look at the driver but couldn't. What if this is just his plan to kidnap you? You know what he's on the run for, getting rid of you will just make things easier.

"Come on." Jungkook grabbed your arm, pulling you into the car with him. You sat, a little reluctant but deciding it's for the best. You could have somewhere to sleep, if Jungkook doesn't kill you first. Once you were inside, you could now see who was driving. Kim Seokjin. Jungkook's other best friend in this story.

"Jesus Christ dude, who did that to you?" He looked back at Jungkook, his eyes then shifting to you. "Is this a new one?" That question almost seemed like an insult. New one? You don't remember Jungkook being a player in the story? How many relationships has he been in?

"Shut up and drive, dude. I'm sure the cops just realized I'm gone." Jungkook looked around, almost paranoid. "Okay fine." Seokjin started driving, waiting till he was on the road before turning his headlights on. He then turned on the radio, pop punk softly playing. Jungkook was exhausted. Terribly exhausted, and he couldn't help but rest his head on your shoulder. You stiffened at first, but then understood immediately and relaxed.

You smell good. He thought to himself as he took a slow deep breath, taking in your scent. Even though you smelled slightly of his blood, there was this other natural scent from you. Your hair smelled clean. Like you just washed it before finding him bleeding out on the roof. He appreciated this. It helps him relax.

The drive was long, but it helped ease the worry between Jungkook's brow, and he was relieved when you all arrived at Seokjin's brother's house. "My brother is away on a business trip for a month, so this place is yours until you figure things out." Seokjin explained everything to you two as he helped Jungkook get out the car. Jungkook gritted his teeth in pain. He looked over to you, seeing your tired expression. "Is it okay if we use his clothes?"

"Yeah dude, no problem. Just make sure you wash everything before you leave." Seokjin opened the door for you, letting you in first before helping Jungkook. "There's two bedrooms, so there's another place to sleep." You glanced around the place. This was a very nice house. One you didn't mind staying in for as long as Jungkook wanted.

What was that? You were thinking as if you were gonna be here another night. This is just a very long, draining dream. After tonight, you will wake up in your bed or on the floor of your brother's room and wonder what happened. "Thank you, Hyung." Jungkook watched you as you walked around. "Oh, so now we're using formalities?" Seokjin joked, walking Jungkook into one of the rooms and setting him on the bed.

"Alright, I'll leave you two be. Reminder, this is only for a month, so don't get too comfortable. And also, please clean up after yourself. Also please throw all your condoms away in the outside trash or flush them, if ya'll use those. I don't want my brother asking too many questions." Seokjin looked at the both of you and you looked back at him wide eyed, your face as hot as an oven.

"Hyung. Stop. We're just friends." Jungkook looked almost as flustered as you, his eyes quickly averting yours. "Really? Just friends with someone this hot? Then you don't mind if I flirt with them right?" Seokjin flashed you a wide grin and you bit your lip nervously. Seokjin is a very...very handsome man yet you couldn't imagine doing anything with him. Jungkook glanced between the two of you and something rose within him. Jealousy? No fuckin way. Either way it pissed him off seeing his friend look at you like that.

"Jin..." Seokjin chuckled, shaking his head. "And the formalities are gone again." He headed out the room and down the hall. "Alright kids, I'll leave you two alone." You both waited in silence, waiting for the sound of the front door to close and lock before both exhaling.

"Holy shit...um...well. This is nice I guess." You were trying to find anything to get your mind off whatever just happened and you could see Jungkook either was trying to do the same or honestly didn't care because he just slowly laid down onto the bed. "I'm going to sleep. It's been a long night." He grumbled and you nodded, the awkward silence engulfing the room once again. "Gotcha...I'll just...go into the other room." You headed towards the door before hearing the bed creak slightly.

"Goodnight." Jungkook stared at you as you walked out the door and slowly closed it behind you. "Night, Jungkook." You said before shutting it. Once you were out the room, you felt all the stiffness and uneasiness leave you. Holy fuck, you need a shower. You smelled of blood and sweat and it was utterly disgusting. You went straight into the bathroom and started the shower, shedding your clothes off and hopping in as soon as the water was scolding hot. You let the water drop onto your naked body, the water slowly washing the dried blood off of you and trailing into the drain. You grabbed the soap on the side and started scrubbing, almost as if you were trying to scrub five layers of skin off.

After your shower and you felt like you were fresh and raw from the hot water and hard scrubbing, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel and made your way into the other bedroom. Once you were inside you opened a dresser and saw a couple large shirts. You were thankful they were huge cause you didn't have any spare underwear to wear.

You pulled it over your head, the soft material falling over your body and resting at your mid thigh. You put the towel to your hair and dried your hair as much as possible, your arms felt so tired that just lifting them to dry your hair was a lot of work. You put the towel on the ground and made your way over to the bed and went under the sheets. This was what you finally needed. A comfortable bed. And now, as you fall asleep, you can look forward to waking up back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm glad you guys are liking the first chapter so far! Wanted to go ahead and post the second part to kinda get the story going so you know where everything is going :)

Let me know if you'd like a part three! <3

DO NOT POST/SHARE MY WORK ON TIKTOK

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Ep 17 part one

(Masterpost of all the rewatches) (Canary’s pinboard of original content)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Inaccessible

Wei Wuxian hides in a boat among the lotuses next to a pier in Lotus Pier, the second-most-literally-named home in the show, after The Burial Mounds. This pier has a railing that goes all the way around it, without any ladders or anything. Not to be ADA on main but this means if you can't Jedi jump, you're fucked.  

Hefeng Liquor

While Wei Wuxian waits and tries, not very successfully, to keep his shit together, he hears the guards talking about the local booze that they're going to drink at their murder victory party. We learn, in a desaturated flashback (that OP has done her best to resaturate), that this is lotus-infused wine invented by Wei Wuxian during happier days. 

He kicks the flashback off with his favorite activity, Unnecessarily Erotic Beverage Drinking. (gifset) I’ve slowed this gif down so we can all appreciate the unnecessariness. The way his hand caresses that leaf OMG

Hopefully he is not drinking lake water out of that leaf. Side note: How is it possible that Xiao Zhan doesn't have a drinking water endorsement deal? I had to resort to Zhu Yilong's brand of water for this gag. I figure if it's good enough to pour directly onto a lightning burn like they do in The Lost Tomb Reboot, it's good enough for a leaf hummer chastely drinking out of a leaf

(more behind the cut!)

In his memory, Jiang Cheng tells him to stop fucking around and come help with the basket of lotus pods. Wei Wuxian responds by grabbing one for himself and then sitting his ass down and not helping. Cause he’s a motherfucking P.I.M.P.

Emotional Rescue

Wen Ning arrives on the pier with Jiang Chang, to Wei Wuxian's extreme relief. Look how much emotion Xiao Zhan is able to convey even with half of his face hidden, my lord.

Wen Ning carries Jiang Cheng on his back, in an echo of other significant piggyback rides in Wei Wuxian's life.  

Wei Wuxian's relief is at war with his fear, seeing his brother in such bad shape. Remember, these are cultivators, who heal quickly and mostly don't get their asses beat this hard. The only time Wei Wuxian has been comatose was after the Xuanwu cave, and that was probably because of his prolonged contact with resentful energy/Yin iron.

Hibernating Zidian

Wen Ning gets ready for his first, but not his last, boat ride with an unconscious Yunmeng brother in it. He tells Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng is pretty fucked up but isn't dead.

Then he gives Zidian to him. Before we talk about Zidian, let's talk about BAMF Wen Ning.  Wen Ning is an awkward goofball. He’s also insanely competent at just about everything--wine-drugging, dude-smuggling, corpse retrieval, dog acupuncture, drug pushing. As well as shooting rocks out of the air and, later, beating zombie ass, and resisting mind control. . 

This is the foundation of their friendship; it’s not actually about Wei Wuxian being nice to the weird kid. He initially sought Wen Ning out for the same reason he sought out weird kid Lan Wangji--his martial skill. He accepts his weirdness and is protective of him because of his missing-spirit problem, but he did not befriend him out of altruism.

Wei Wuxian is so forgiving that he can smile fondly when looking at the weapon that whipped the shit out of him a couple of days ago.

Wei Wuxian puts Zidian down right next to Jiang Cheng's hand and...nothing happens. It doesn't recognize him or spark to life. This didn't seem meaningful when I watched it the first time, but rewatching...yikes. It KNOWS.

Wei Wuxian admits, with tears in his eyes, that there is nowhere safe for him to go with Jiang Cheng, and Wen Ning immediately offers care and shelter. Even though that is putting his own life at serious risk.

Life obligation is a common theme in CDramas. It’s often something a person chooses as a way of showing love. Guardian builds an eternal romance out of two people saving each other’s lives over and over.  But accepting the obligation is a choice (in fantasy dramas, if not in real life). Love and Redemption has a gloriously harsh sequence where a life is saved, and the save-ee cooly rejects the saver.

Every time Wen Ning saves Wei Wuxian, he cites that one time that Wei Wuxian saved him from the water demon. And Wei Wuxian cites this rescue right here when he throws everything away to save Wen Ning. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng doesn't acknowledge any debt to Wen Ning at all, only--grudgingly--to Wen Qing. And people are ok with that.

Basically all this is to say that I think Wen Ning leans into this life debt because he loves Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian leans into it because he loves him back. Non-romantically, I think...at least on Wei Wuxian’s part. YMMV.

They go to pick up Yanli from their Granny, telling her to go into hiding. She starts to cry, not knowing how she'll manage on her own. Wei Wuxian tells her that they will come back, as Wen Ning looks super unsure about that.

Of course Wei Wuxian can't know, at this point, whether they will come back. Wei Wuxian always wants to make everybody feel better, and sometimes you really can't make someone feel better except by lying. He compulsively says shit that he thinks people want to hear, almost as if he was beaten frequently and arbitrarily as a child.

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational boat ride industry, as he rows the Yunmeng trio through some amazingly beautiful scenery.

Core Melting Time

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier The Yunmeng Supervisory Office, Wen Chao is hung over, Wen Chao is angry, Yawn

For some reason, Wang Lingjiao has suddenly decided to talk to Wen Chao in the most cloying and annoying way possible. 

Also, the fact that she still addresses him as Gongzi when she is totally fucking him is kind of great. This is like those fics where Elizabeth Bennet calls Mr. Darcy "Mr. Darcy" even when they're married and hitting it. 

Wen Zhuliu demonstrates why he's called Core-Melting Hand, by punishing the wine guard. He's able to melt a guy's core by grabbing him by the throat, and also picks him up, Darth Vader style, for extra meltyness.

All that stuff I said last time about Wen Zhuliu feeling ambivalent about being a villian...yeah, he seems to have gotten that right out of his system. 

Chilling in Yiling

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational carriage ride industry.  Wei Wuxian, after presumably several hours in the cart, decides that now is a good time to get curious about where they are going. 

Here we start to see a new side of Wei Wuxian.  Before this he was carefree, other than specific worries about his friends. He confronted danger with lightness and humor, or with temporary fear, that he let go of once the danger passed. Now, after all the deaths and seeing Jiang Cheng so injured, he's twitchy, anxious, and angry.

Very, very angry.

When he realizes that Wen Ning has brought them to the Yiling supervisory office, he goes off, demanding to know whose home this was before the Wens took it and grabbing Wen Ning and shoving him into a decorative...decoration.  He thinks Wen Ning brought them here to harm them. 

I wouldn't have thought such a pretty dude could be so menacing, but holy crap.

The way he's confronting Wen Ning here is not his normal style. He's not trying to provoke a bigger fight like he usually does; he's not trying to create distance, the way Jiang Cheng does. He's very intimate, getting right in his face and maintaining eye contact. He trusted Wen Ning and feels personally betrayed.  

Shy little Wen Ning is remarkably calm when confronted like this. Wen Ning really isn’t afraid of anything, despite his general air of nervousness. (Full gifset of Angry WWX over here.) 

He calmly and kindly explains the situation. He doesn't appeal to Wei Wuxian's trust, saying "oh I would never;" he appeals to his logic, which gets through to him. 

Wen Qing comes out and the guards start banging on the door and Wei Wuxian flips out again, grabbing a sword and pointing it at Wen Qing as she decides what to do.  Wen Qing seems unruffled by Wei Wuxian's sword pointing, and we see her weighing up the situation.

She makes her decision, sending the guards away and deciding to help the fugitives, officially joining the Clear Conscience Club. She could probably get Wen Ning out of trouble by turning them in, but she opts to put personal loyalty and her belief in her own ideals ahead of her family's safety.

Wei Wuxian is not ok. He’s just not ok. He tries to act like it after they get settled in with Wen Qing, but he's not, and I think that plays into his next several choices. 

Next comes a whole sequence of Jiang Cheng being unconscious with pins in his head--ow--while Wei Wuxian twitchily tends to him. 

This sequence is kind of unfair to Jiang Yanli. What matters to the story here is Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship, so that’s the focus of these scenes. But really, there is no way Jiang Yanli would not be at Jiang Cheng's side unless she was literally unconscious herself. Let's assume Wen Qing stuck a needle in her to make her rest while she has a fever. Shippers should also feel free to assume that Wen Qing spent hours at her bedside, tenderly wiping her forehead and holding her hand as she recovered. In his sleep, while Wei Wuxian sits by his side, Jiang Cheng calls for his sister, mother, and father, but not for his brother. Ouch.  

Let's pause to appreciate Wei Wuxian's new outfit, which is the sort of getup most people in this society probably imagine Yiling Laozu wearing, rather than the low-key homespun stuff he actually spends his Yiling year in. This robe has fancy shoulders, shiny material, touches of Jiang purple, strange red hoody strings, and a fuckin' CAPE. He didn't bring any luggage with him from Lotus Pier, although he's still got his Yin Turtle Sword hidden in a bag of holding. So the most likely explanation is that Wen Ning hooked him up with this lewk. "Wei Wuxian is a nice person. He should have a magnificent cape."

Wen Wing and Wei Wuxian take a breather to stand on the porch and work out what their status is with each other, like a couple of fucking adults, which is amazing. Basically Wei Wuxian is ready to forget earlier Wen shenanigans, but is going to avenge Lotus Pier. 

Wen Qing isn't enthusiastic about that but doesn't argue, just asking, mostly rhetorically, if he plans to kill her too. He's uncomfortable considering that; the role of avenger isn't one that's comfortable for him, although he turns out to be extremely good at it. He does not, of course, plan to kill her too. In a few months, imprisoned in a Wen dungeon, she will be the only Wen left alive after Wei Wuxian 1.5(No-Gold Edition) and Chenqing come to visit.

Jiang Cheng finally wakes up, and the first thing he does is to test out his spiritual power by hitting Wei Wuxian as hard as he can. 

DUDE.

Look at Wei Wuxian's face, as he goes from happy, to shocked and hurt, to laughing it off. It's exactly like when Jiang Cheng shoved him in the Rock Lady temple. Has Wei Wuxian spent all of his years with Jiang Cheng going from affection, to hurt feelings, to pretending it's fine? God, I think he probably has.

This episode raises a question that will come up again later, but never be answered. That question is, what the fuck are these weird footies and why the fuck does Jiang Cheng wear them to bed?

Jiang Cheng reveals that his golden core is gone, that he can't cultivate any more, which means he can't avenge his parents or achieve any ambitions in life. Nobody has apparently given any thought to why Wen Zhuliu is called "Core-Melting Hand" before this, which is hilarious, frankly. If I fought with a guy called, for example, Brain-Eating Mouth, I think I would make certain assumptions about him and what he planned to do with my brain.

Something interesting is happening in this moment, because as he comes fully back to consciousness, Jiang Cheng pours out all of his trauma and horror to his brother, telling him about the core melting and practically wailing about his feelings over it all. And his brother understands, and ultimately finds a way to help him. What does Wei Wuxian do after his own trauma? Keeps it secret, so nobody finds a way to help him, although many people try to. So Jiang Cheng is, in this way at least...emotionally healthier than Wei Wuxian? That's unexpected.

Jiang Cheng is super upset and is mad at eternal scapegoat Wei Wuxian for saving him. Jiang Cheng would rather be dead than be a regular person. Whereas Wei Wuxian, faced with the same problem, is like, *shrug* I’ll adapt. These are both valid emotional responses to suddenly becoming disabled. Losing a golden core is definitely a disability, in this environment; it's not just about magic sword fights. Jiang Cheng's home is designed for people who can fly; Lan Wangji's home is designed for people who don't feel cold, and Wen Central is made of actual lava, for example. 

Jiang Cheng is already struggling with a lot of difficulties. He was raised by shitty parents, he's got anger management issues, he has a crushing weight of responsibility. And now he's also lived through the deaths of most of the people who matter to him. If sword cultivation is the one thing that gives him joy in life (ok one of two things, obviously fashion also gives him joy because he WORKS it), he can't reasonably be expected to rally when it's taken away.  

Oh, honey. Oh, baby boy. 

Wen Qing picks the worst moment to come in and tries to tend to Jiang Cheng, who starts off being devastated that the girl he likes is seeing the wreck he's become, and then moves along to helpless rage when he remembers that she's a Wen, and he screams at her to get out.  

Jiang Cheng is not able to put personal loyalty ahead of clan loyalty like Wei Wuxian is. Partly this is his nature, and partly it's his role as the lineal descendant of the clan leader. As a firstborn son of a gentry family, his destiny as clan leader is in his blood, and so is his responsibility to the clan. When Wei Wuxian praises Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for caring less about bloodlines than about shared ambition, he is speaking from the position of someone who's bloodline ain't shit. Jiang Cheng will never be able to share that perspective.

Next: More of this excruciating episode!

Writing prompt: The Day I Discovered I Could Melt Your Fucking Core, by Wen Zhuliu Drabble prompt: Why I Wear Socks to Bed, by Jiang Cheng

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

[forthehpfanboys]

hi! can you please do a hc about being george AND fred trans boyfriend?

YESYESYESYES

Warning: Talk of dysphoria, hint at transphobia here and there, mention of period (which I labeled shark week). If I missed any, please dm me.

Key: (D/n) -Deadname  (P/n) -Preferred Name

§×§×§ §×§×§ §×§×§

 Ok, so let's be honest. They have and will continue to fight over you.

Sure, they CAN share, but that doesn't always mean they want too.

They bitch about who's snuggling you in what way because they both have different snuggle preferences and it's almost annoying.

Like Fred loves when he's on his back and your on his chest and he can run his fingers through your hair.

And George fuckin' loves when you guys are laying on your sides and he can look into your eyes and just hold you close and protect you.

Them cutting your hair and then like Molly seeing it and almost crying because her boys tried but Jesus christ it's so shaggyYyY

And if you like it, hey! That's ok!

But she will fix it for you if you don't.

They're just happy you love them both and neither one has to be super awkward about it.

Probably created the potion to help you transition at the pace you want.

They'd love you whether you took the hormone potions or not. They love you for you. You're looks are just a bonus to them.

Oh my god, and they totally play dumb if someone dead names you.

"Hmm.. (D/n)? (D/n).. Do we know a (D/n), Georgie?” “Can’t say we do, Fred.” “Strange. It sounds familiar.” “It does, doesn’t it? We do know a (P/n) though!” “Right! Our boyfriend who is open about who he is!” “Yup! And anyone who is worth his attention probably knows that about him.” “Yeah and they wouldn’t do shit like this on purpose.”

And you’d just be sitting there, watching them tear this student apart and just be like “w o w. these  b o y s”

Anyway, they will, not only emotionally destroy anyone who says anything negative about you, but will also wreck them mentally with a prank.

God forbid they be a Slytherin.

Then you might as well plan their funeral.

OH. AND IF IT'S DRACO-

DEAD. ON. THE. SPOT.

Sneaking through the little tunnels together. Definitely just sitting in one of the tunnels at like 2 am to gossip over stuff goin’ on in school like whos snogging who in which closets.

They are the best gossipers, please.

You’re definitely gonna be painting their nails. I take zero criticism for this.

However, George strives to keep the as pristine and pretty as possible, where Fred loves the aesthetic of broken nail polish.

Go to colors? George- definitely something bright like orange or red. Fred- black. Just black. Maybe a deep red for Gryffindor pride, but mostly black.

I’m focusing on their nails too much.

Oh, if you get hit with a bad dysphoria day, they try to physically combat it with pillow fights and/or giving you soft kisses to make you feel better.

It helps if it’s not like a crying over my gender kind of dysphoria day.

You guys KNOW they drag you to the kitchens on particularly hard nights, especially if it's "shark week" nights. But only if your up for the trip.

If your not, they're sneaking you into the prefects bathroom for a nice, hot bubble bath.

And if that time comes around, and your feeling worse than usual, you better bet your ass, they go even HARDER on defending you than before.

My god, they are the kings of respect too.

Like if your walking around, taking a break from your binder and just like chilling in a t-shirt, their either giving you INTENSE eye contact... Or just staring at the ceiling.

Yes, you are trapped between them during snuggles... When they agree to a position... After an hour of arguing.

And I actually feel bad for any professor who Deadname you to be honest. Like they will be quitting by the end of the week, I bet.

Ok, on more separate notes. A few events that HAVE happened.

You and Fred have watched George absolutely beat the shit out of some cocky Slytherin who called you a slur. Like your holding Fred's arms, to try to hold him back, but he's not even fighting anymore, he's just watching his softer brother obliterate this students face.

Fred will purposefully yell over people who are being rude about you and call them out. Like if you're walking past a hall, but Fred hears even a whisper of your name, he's already like rushing down the hall, shouting shit.

It was Fred's idea to sneak you into the boys locker room for Quidditch, if you play, or if you don't pass fully, which is 10,000% fine and your still valid and we love you, while George talked to Madam Hooch about it becoming a regular thing.

It does become a regular thing. 😌

Anyway.

They'd definitely defend, not only you, but anyone else who is apart of the LGBTQA+ in Hogwarts and definitely starts like a safe club for everyone to meet up and chat and have fun and eat chips and sugar quills.

I just can't get over how willing they'd throw hands for you. Goddamnit.

They'd definitely sell the hormone potions, binders, packers and anything else a person may want in their shop. My god.

Just them being so supportive is all I want and need in my life, please.