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watashijeon · 2 years

Text

After Midnight | KTH

♪ ♫ song to listen to while reading 📖— It was only a dream - thee sinseers - (i suggest this song after the smut)

before you read: Keep in mind that this is all purely fiction. If any of the below warnings trigger you then do not read, blocking is welcomed if you are uncomfortable btw.. idc! (๑˘･з･˘)~

pairing: sub!reader x lawyer dom!taehyung

part 2 here

wc. 7.9k | smut & angst + fluff (reader is 22 & tae is 32) :>

→ Warnings: (+18) — not proud of this so.. be nice! desk sex, taehyung smokes cigars + drinks whiskey because lawyer stereotypes yasss, raw birthday sex for mister kim, cunnilingus + masturbation, sensitive and vocally whiny yn, fingering, cum eating, brat yn appears here and there, spanking, he’s kinda a big bully, hair pulling, taehyung’s been ran through he likes his variety, agonizingly slow but yet fast and rough sex? he changes the tempo a lot, brief biting, orgasm control, oversensitivity on both ends, clit slapping, aftercare because taehyung is no biitch, not a nice ending here ^_^ don’t get upset w me

You finally make it to his apartment walking into the living to see it is empty, so is his room.

It was late and the man could hear you finally getting back, later than usual. He never made an exact time stamp for meeting him but would usually expect of you to come around mid afternoon, it’s almost midnight now.

His ears listen for the sounds of you walking alone down the dark long and hollow hallway. You know where he always spends most of his living breath and it’s this very room, his office.

Your heels being the only source of sound in his quiet abode, hearing the signature knock racking gently against the wood of his door. He would never speak back when you knocked, it was only a simple common ritual you’ve picked up over time before you open the door as your greeting.

The man shifts in his chair, turning on his heel to spin his chair around to face you. Seeing you stare in shock at his appearance; he was dressed in his work attire still, the usual kind of suit that he would wear for big cases.

His tie was now untucked from his neck, lying loose over his wrinkled buttoned up shirt that he usually wore underneath his blazer.

You see he is sat behind his desk, legs likely man spreading whilst smoking his cigar aimlessly. Puffing airs of smoke staring at you with no exact emotion, his finger rises barely to do a come hither motion and you know where he wants you.

This has been a routine for the both of you for the past two years, you aren’t dating nor are you exclusive. The second time you came over he had told you blunt and straight that he doesn’t do love and you wouldn’t be an exception.

You didn’t mind, not a bit. When you shrugged your shoulders with a genuine smile the day he told you those few words, he had given you a look for shock at how you didn’t act out or let alone react. Since then nothing has been said of the sort to change the arrangement you’ve both set with said rule.

The look of him in front of you caused you to do a double-take, you assumed since you came here late that he would of been worn in nightwear by then.

And your own surprised stare quickly fell into a subtle frown, you guessed he had a long work day. Not helping with it being his birthday today, maybe that little thought tore a shred through your all for too caring heart.

“Tae.”

He clicks his tongue tapping ashes into his cigar tray and you are quick to speed up your steps over to him when you notice his brow quirked, the telltale sign of him awaiting for you on his lap seeing he’s impatient now.

You climb into the man’s lap sitting yourself comfortable, feeling dark eyes skipping over to look at your lips. Then the slope of your nose, back up to your eyes. His gaze trailing slow up and over your perfect frame, he smirks in his mind when he notices you’ve worn more make up and a skimpier but still deemed as classy dress, all for him.

You begin to squirm under his hard stare by shifting onto one side, then the other in his lap. Maybe not the best idea for the man with a raging hard on right now.

His communication skills may lack awfully but his territorial being has heightened since you’ve came to be. He doesn’t like to show any emotion rarely, which leaves you to guessing or coaxing him into muttering an action that speaks louder than words.

Along with that, he was never vocal about sex. Having you be the one to initiate the action, no matter how hard and obvious you could see his meaty length poke through his slacks.

He hums quietly, simply wrapping arms around your waist to keep you still while pressing his bulge into your heat “You made it, so it seems.”

You giggle wrapping both arms over his shoulders leaning back to make yourself comfortable for the time being, nestling only further into his lap not minding the way your heat throbbed with burning need.

“Happy birthday old man.”

He grins small breathing out a chuckle, his hand planting their way to your ass rubbing lazy circles into clothed skin.

Never making any sly intentions to slip his hand beneath your short dress just yet.

“Happy birthday to me.”

You wiggled under his burning touch and whine already “You’re still in your old man clothes, you look uncomfortable.”

He shrugs his fingers beginning to move under the flimsy fabric to squeeze your ass just how he pleases “Long day, a lot more drafting than I would have liked.”

You nod understanding, running the tips of your fingers through the ends of his hair on his neck “Thank goodness I’m here then.” you smile cheekily tugging on the strands barely.

“Oh why, do you have plans to make this interesting?” the man smirks circling his cigar around your face, hand still remained over your ass to squeeze and knead for his leisure.

You pout fisting the strands of his hair at the strong stench of smoke wafting in your face “I’m the thing that makes it interesting, idiot.” your cheeks puffed, squinting eyes to him.

His grin falls oh so sardonic with a breathy hum “Uh huh, you are.. interesting? Would love to see how.” he urges you on, nails slightly pressed into your ass cheek. Loving the way you gasped at the impact.

“I even made you a cake.” you mumble into your gasp, bouncing against him lazily “And you need to relax, working is no good way to spend your thirty-second birthday.”

He groans taking another puff of smoke to exhale into your face that grimaced like always, “Don’t bring up my age, it makes me feel like a pervert.”

You pout more relaxing your pinched brows and wrinkled nose, pushing his cigar occupied hand off to the side diving in to plant a sloppy glossed up kiss over his lips repetitively.

“You are not a pervert, I’m legal Taehyung.”

Lips reciprocate the kiss, gently pressing into the motion on yours to test the waters. You tried to find a steady rhythm, until he had decided on taking over. Already piercing his teeth into your lower lip, things escalating from the once soft and messy pecks into rough and wet tongues clashing one another.

You’re the first one to break apart with heavy breaths whining more to him softly, toying with the hem of his collar “Let me take your clothes off, sir, please.” you put your finger into his mouth and give him a pout for a puppy, while he remained stoic. Lazily sucking and biting on your finger with no response until he felt to

“Only a few buttons.”

You smile and nod pulling your finger out from his mouth, quickly getting down to unbuttoning the first few buttons.

“Good?” your eyes search for an answer and get your great response when he lowly grunts.

“Your turn.” he taps your thigh, leaning back into his chair to get comfortable for the sight that’s to unfold.

Like always, you rolled up from his lap and stand steps away from him. Fingers deft on pushing the straps of your dress down and with a small tug from the bottom it would slip right off with ease from the seams of your hips to fall shameless pooling at the hardwood flooring.

And although you’ve done this more times than you can count, you were never not shy. Here you are stood small in only pink laced panties and heels, you decided earlier to forgone the bra so you could tease him with how your nipples pressed against the fabric that was seconds ago covering your modesty.

“Pretty.” he murmurs quietly, back to smoking his cigar in godspeed. Your eyes too busy watching his fingers press against lips, the man’s stare burning every detail into his brain about your body without blinking once.

How frustrating was this for you every time, given how he has you strip naked in front of him while being fully clothed. All from him was a few buttons open from his collared shirt, and you begin to think how you have never seen Taehyung naked besides the few nights you stayed over.

His eyes are steadily on you this whole time and the moment he sees how slow you lick your lips, looking at him with those eyes, he knows he wants you now.

He motions with his fingers in a down motion at your hips and you know what that means, you gulp in your timid step slipping off your panties seeing your wetness stained the lace.

“God.” he groans readjusting himself in his seat and you guessed that this was your silent command to sit. You have no time to dwell when you feel a pull of his fingers and you’re back on his lap, the man frowning impatient more than usual and you grew nervous at that.

You only ever wanted to see him happy. You know, put a smile on that stoic face.

Limbs wrapped around him in a koala like grip, unrelenting to plant another plethora of sloppy kisses all over him. Smiling into the kiss feeling him breath a quiet “Calm down.” against your lips while he busied to carrying you over to lay back on the paperless side of his desk, the man always making sure to clear a side for the days you came.

You grow confused at him sitting back in his chair your elbows coming to prop yourself up to speak to him properly “What.. do you want me to do.” this was different, he usually kept kissing you once he laid you back and carried onto fucking you stupid.

He wordlessly rolls his chair between your legs and leaned down into your heat, legs opened wide with heels propped against wood for leverage. You open your mouth to speak again but he shuts you up when you see lips press together to spit on your mound, feeling his saliva dribble down your cunt and you squeeze pathetically around nothing with a whiny mewl.

“Tae..” he still doesn’t speak, your legs quiver watching him bring his thumb over your clit rubbing sloppy circles into your heat. Your head throws back immediately with a gasp and desperate buck of your knees wanting more, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him and you were this sensitive to his touch.

It still feels rare and new every time he has his hands on you, feeling his fingers trail down to your folds while running spit through your pussy as if it weren’t wet from your own essence.

He keeps teasing you like this, running fingers up and down through your lips and you groan at the loss when he retrieves his fingers. You can’t complain for him to stop teasing, feeling a cold breeze of air hit against your clit causing eager hips to thrust back into his face even more.

He continued to ignore desperate attempts, pinning your hips back down against his desk while he was ready to bring digits to spread you apart more. Eyes marveling at how much your cunt shined with your arousal and his spit. He grumbles feeling fingers grip onto his hair and you can tell he is definitely done and ready to cut off the foreplay once and for all.

He groans licking a deft stripe up your cunt, sucking your clit right into his mouth with fervor and intent. Flicking his tongue over the spot that made you want to tug his strands more.

Taehyung takes his time on you, even if his tongue was sporadic and sloppy. He made sure to take breaks in between licking you up to taste every bit of you. You can’t take much more when he finally pulls back but remains put in his spot. Feeling his hot breath against your pussy, your brain warping into a spiral of pure lust and need.

He inhales one last deep breath feeling how hard you were grabbing onto his hair, getting his message across once and for all he pins both hands down on your hips to keep you in place. Leaving no room to writhe and squirm.

The man hopelessly sighs moving his head out between your legs, resting back straight up in his chair, giving you a look.

Your legs tremble more, you can’t believe he is leaving you high and dry. You furrow your brows at him and lick your lips ready to protest with the pout that always got your way.

“Why, did you stop.”

Naturally he is back to having that forsaken cigar between his fingers, you feel the great desire to snatch it right from his hand. Maybe you should shove it down his throat or better yet, throw that whole stupid damn collection of his out the fucking wind-

“Touch yourself.”

You whimper out almost naturally, you could see the twitch in his lips he got from hearing that sound of your desperation “W-what?”

He chuckles this time, shaking his head in what it seemed to be disbelief watching how his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

“I said, touch yourself.”

He didn’t raise his voice, it’s not like he ever did around you for that matter. He always made sure to speak in his calm and reserved manner, although maybe because he was a lawyer or also the plain fact of that’s just him.

And still, he did not raise his voice. But, you could definitely hear the firm and domineering lilt in his voice. You know better than to deny and be cheeky at that.

You bob your head almost stupidly, trailing fingers down to spread yourself apart for him. All because you enjoyed the way his breath would cut short, almost like your own.

You start slow with your rubs, watching the flick of a lighter brought about smoke to lazily breeze through the air between you two

“Put a finger in, mhm that’s it.” the timbre of his voice had dropped and it had gone rough as he watched your hand “In and out, slowly.”

“More. Not enough.” you panted softly, toes on the verge of curling.

He wanted you to ache, ask for him and squirm in your spot “Please.” he hums like he was thinking about it, shrugging his shoulders he placed fingers over yours to make them move faster. And when he noticed you were fastening your pace, he shushes you getting ready to stretch you out further with slipping two fingers into your wet heat with a content hum resounding his chest.

“Ah, fuck more please!” your hips wiggle against him, finger pulling from your heat pathetically to hold purchase onto his desk “C’mon, push them in deeper.” you follow without fail feeling yourself squeeze around the knuckles of him while your clit began to throb without friction. You continue to gasp out between broken moans with fingers hooked inside you, right on your g-spot rubbing you in a come hither motion.

Way too impatient himself he’s up from his seat to hover over you, swallowing up needy whines with his lips pressed to yours and you no longer can depend on the desk for strength when you feel his wrist flick harder to finger fuck you into oblivion with your wetness dripping down your thighs, thumb circling your clit and his cigar abandoned quicker than speed could contain itself.

You feel good, so fucking good. You could never question the power that his long slender fingers held, given with how they stretched you open and made you feel too many things to even word correctly if you were given the chance.

He can feel you’re close with the way your walls squeezed over him and your lips biting down on his to hold back the screams that were to be left “Cum around my fingers.“ the sounds of your wetness filled the room with every movement of his fingers, soon after feeling your orgasm snap within you when you felt his fingers pinch your bud pushing fingers in deeper.

“Fuckkk! Yes!” he pinched and rolled your bud until it was too much, again and again. The man could feel the way you squeezed down on his fingers tighter, and there it was, he felt that shudder against his hold. Watching in awe as pleasure shattered throughout your body, you felt the wave wash over you and through feeling yourself come down with heavy pants.

His heavy stare on your cunt, the blush spreading on your cheeks as he pulled his fingers from your heat without a care.

There’s that same unimpressed look on his face, he always wears it as if it were costume when you just have came over his fingers. He has no time to waste once more, soiled fingers tapping at your lips to open

“Clean.” you abide, feeling his fingers on your tongue mouthing at the skin, licking your essence from him until he was satisfied.

This part you used to grow red and flustered at, much more than now. How could anyone bare not to, when this good looking Adonis for a man would act bored and a great mix of unbothered after giving someone a mind blowing orgasm with only just his fingers.

He slips his fingers from your lips, off to rolling his shoulders back while cracking his knuckles and neck, almost like he hadn’t had fingers deep into your cunt. He carries on according to routine, patting your thigh again you get up from your spot and wiggle over to your front, chest pressed to the cold cherry wood of his desk making you gasp.

He doesn’t spare you any gentle touches to your ass or anywhere on you, as much as you wished him to. He goes on to clear his throat and hum while placing his hand over by where your cheek rested, whispering down into your ear with nothing but a voice filled with gruffness “Gonna fuck this cunt, hm?”

The way he said it just like that made the breath caught in your throat with a sputter. He always made sure to have some type of way to ask for consent in the most lewd yet bluntest ways, you nod into the desk but that wasn’t enough for him. It never was.

He slaps your ass hard, leaving you to yelp into the wood with a moan “Speak up or I fuck your ass.”

“Yes sir!” you squealed

“Yes sir, what?” you nod more so to yourself for comfort with eyes closed shut while breathing your word of consent “Please fuck me.”

Lust apparently would come in all shapes. Whether it was posed as seduction or formed with mystery, that’s how you would describe Taehyung.

He filled you with too many feelings internally and externally when he had you under him. You didn’t even wait to knock your legs apart, you do it for him, the way he likes with your back arched and out to give the man access to everything he wanted.

He gripped your thigh tight in his hold, licking lips at the sight of your cunt dripping in arousal “Bet you’d like me to fuck your cunt and ass anyways.” it’s not like it was question, because he could guess your answer when you would give in with another moan.

You always sounded sweet in his ears, he thinks if he should coo or not at the action. But he won’t dare to when you’re this close to him with his chest against your back. Taehyung doesn’t do soft unless it was necessary aftercare of course, he wasn’t a little bitch.

You snapped him out of his thoughts with such a needy call for his name, wiggling your ass into his crotch and the man could only pierce his lip likely imaging how your sticky arousal was probably clinging to his designer slacks.

He could feel your attempt to subtly but not so subtly dry hump him like the horny mutt you were always claimed to be. Amused at his angel, he watched your head slightly turn back to meet against lips and whisper in a voice so small and tiny he would combust if he was a teenager all over again, “Fuck me please, Tae.”

“However I want?” he mumbled in a feign pout,

“Whatever you want.” wiggling your hips back into him even more so he would just get to it.

You sigh when you finally feel him move around behind you coming up off from your back although you pout, your mouth falls open with ease feeling one hand lifting your hips while he busied on grabbing his cock from his slacks, teasing the tip at your entrance to start to push inside you. You almost make a sound of complaint for him to just push in, but he was quick with yanking strands of hair into his fist while his other was pierced into your hip.

You moan wantonly, feeling the pressure of him over your entrance and the great mix of pain from finger nails indenting your skin. His grip so tight that the silver rings he wore were sure to make marks into your skin.

“Fuck fuckkk, Tae-ah!” you screamed, feeling him thrust inside of you full. Your walls tried to push him out from the sudden intrusion, not backing down with the knife like grip he held on to your hip. He starts to move you up and down over his length in a slow piercing pace without a problem, his cock twitching at your withering cries begging him to go faster.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Sorry.. so sorry sir,” you can’t even finish your sentence while you were expecting him to start you off slow and easy with teasing himself inside.

And while he continues to yank on your hair, trailing his hand up to your breast squeezing them into his hand. The man would not lie when he said he was addicted with every time you wrapped around him like this, he wouldn’t dare to word a thing of his timeless thoughts.

But, he could continue to riddle his mind on no matter how much he fucked you open, whether with his fingers or his cock you still would feel as tight as the first day he fucked you over a sink in your childhood home. The same day it was your twentieth birthday party.

The pace continued to be slow but hard with every time he thrusted his hips forward into you, making sure he hit just hard enough to make his angel beg for more.

He started to move his hands on your ass faster, forcing you to move your hips quicker against his cock “You can move better than that.” you don’t respond, he usually took over the pace so you assumed this was a mere jab.

Trailing off his hand, he flexed his fingers with a hum almost like he was in thought before you would feel a loud smack land right on your ass. Leaving you in pleasurable shock moaning at the sting and sheer pleasure “Move your fucking hips.” he hissed, wasting no time the man harshly kicks your legs apart even more than they once were. Making it difficult to move now.

The man licks his lips in satisfaction at the little tremble in your arms, beginning to lean forward pushing you in the very angle that he knew would feel just right, “Move.”

He continued to graze his teeth over the shell of your ear before biting down into skin, the unexpected action making you moan even louder. And like the bitch in heat you were, you started to gyrate your hips on his cock like this was your life long desire. The man happily grinned out in that signature cocky smirk of his, listening to the soft "uh’s” fall from lips that made you feel flush down to your cunt.

Taehyung scoffs shaking his head like you could give a fuck when he’s balls deep in you "Need more, hm?” warm hand squeezed tight around your throat and of fucking course you moan a pathetic yes. How can you even think to deny more of his cock when he drags against your walls this deliciously, the man’s hips move so unbelievably fluid with your sloppy untimely movements that it’s honestly impressive.

You can definitely tell the lawyer of a man has been ran through besides from the typical trials and cases, but who would ever care when the dick is this good.

You mumbled in your daze, you were itching to look at his face, moving your neck in an uncomfortable position to only realize how close he really was. Noses almost touching, lips swollen red and cheeks rosy. You can just guess how his chest probably shined in sweat beneath those stupid clothes of his, the veins that lingered down his v line were probably protruding from the strenuous position and all the grunting he’s doing.

Barely blinking back to the present and you realized he’s caught your gaze, this man loved to take any chance to rub in his face how attractive you found him. He goes on to give you that same forbidden look for bedroom eyes with a seductive toothy smirk mouthing the word

“Har-der.”

You couldn’t tell whatsoever if he was asking if you wanted him to go harder or saying the simple word to just say it, but oh boy you figured out quick what the man meant.

Slamming his hips into you. You cried out in a moaning yelp while he groaned watching your slick leak from your cunt with every thrust he gave, the fire and hunger in his moves making you easily turn to nothing but putty in hands.

Your eyes could only flutter back from the pleasure of feeling his girth and length enter you by tenfold. He worked you right, like he knew every little thing about your body and that he did. Taehyung’s right hand fondled your breasts making sure to nip your cheek every so often to remind you who was fucking you this good.

“Give me more.”

Whimpering, you nod in your only great way of responding. Feeling so much from just his hand rubbing your clit while fingers pinched your nipples red, heavy mint breath fanning over your cheek.

Not helping your feral self much more.

He is so down to switch his hands down over to grip your hips again, moving his chest back to watch in awe at how his dick fucked into you with ease. The way your ass jiggled every time he pushed down his pelvis making him go wild, feeling the very obvious wobble in your legs that was barely holding up if it wasn’t for his hands on you.

Nerves on fire, you begin to feel Taehyung signal his near climax with the harder and sloppier his thrusts became.

With a low groan, his pace comes to a sudden stop feeling your inner walls clench around him he hissed pulling out from your heat “Turn over.” you’re so set on chasing your orgasm you don’t even question the loss of his cock in your desperate cunt, doing whatever to please the man. You roll on your back with legs spread wide, having an idea of what he was about to do.

His jaw clenches watching how your pussy squeezed with every pump he gave to his cock, moans falling loose from his lips shooting his hot load over your mound and stomach. With one final pump he lets out a gorgeous moan, and sighs not taking any time to give himself a breather he walks closer between your legs and slips his cock back into you.

Eyes peering down at you, momentarily squeezing his shut from the overload of sensitivity. No matter how sensitive he felt, he was going to give you your orgasm.

He would focus on your desperate little noises for now, you were being such a good girl and not voicing any complaints. Even if he put his orgasm first, your voice still quivered in pure euphoria from feeling him stretch you open all over again.

He surprises you again, pulling out with a heavy exhale licking lips at the pout you wore. He hums throughout kissing your neck in a sloppy manner, pulling back to carelessly slap his cock against your clit.

The man was satisfied to say the least, bathing in the sounds of your moans and squirming hips that tried to use him for friction.

“More, please I need more.” he sighs and alternates to rubbing his length through your sodden lips “Beg for me to put my cock back in.” you are practically panting by now and you have not much will power to think.. other than blubber away “I- shit, I need you TaeTae.” and although he usually would have scolded you for swearing, his cock twitches at the special pet name that was only reserved for you to utter.

You knew what it did to him and he curses the universe for letting you be this damn endearing “Uhhh huh.” he plays it off with barely lifting his shoulders in a shrug while your pout fell more, speaking in an all but innocent tone with another whining mewl “Please, I’ll be good!”

He smiles with a grin almost too toothy for your liking, “Happy birthday to me then.” the man pulls you closer to the edge of the table, rolling his hips back into yours with a hiss and seized jaw feeling you squeeze tightly around him.

Silent cries and whimpers of “Please move” and “Touch me Tae” bounced between the office walls, but all the man would do is continue to still his hips. Occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb, deciding to speed up the figure eight motions over your cunt. Relishing in the gorgeous ardent moans filling his ears, while you silently begged with half lidded eyes for more and more.

Taehyung enjoys this, teasing you to death with his half limp cock. I mean, look at you, getting fucked over his cock barely being fully naked with only heels on to show for who you are.

It’s almost as all the sudden something fuels him to move, and he does. He began with a soft thrust watching you gasp deeper, trying your hardest not to squeeze around him as if he would evaporate. He chuckles at your timid self, continuing to fuck himself softly into your weeping cunt that begged for so much more than before.

He watched how your hips would try to meet his, trying so hard to feel him deeper inside of you. The man chuckles again, broad shoulders shaking this time with him in amusement.

“Now isn’t that my job, Angel?”

Just those few words would make your thighs tremble in fear, poor baby. The cold ac on in his office would now be completely forgotten under his cruel ministrations and daunting words, making your hips stutter and pause to let him do the work as intended.

The tip of his cock teasing you into shambles, so slow and rough, you could cry. Your walls would unrelentingly squeeze around him while you mewled out into nothing, the muffled moans that strangled out of your throat becoming more incoherent and broken.

He bounces himself a few times, allowing only a few inches to slide out before sinking all the way back in, head lulling in pure bliss at how good you felt around him, even if he still felt overly sensitive from the earlier onslaught.

It’s when your cunt finally allows him to sink deeper, he fucks his hips up into you so hard that for a moment you were sure that you were going to fall head first off his desk if he weren’t holding onto you.

Your pussy was squeezing even tighter around his cock, groaning to the point of a feral growl, the familiar tightness forming into your stomach and with how tight your pussy was wrapped to Taehyung, he knew you were seconds from falling apart in his arms.

It takes the man a few more powerful snaps of his hips and you fall apart, head snapping back to dig into nothing but hard wood. His hand around your neck, pressing down on the two spots that constrict your air. You fall dizzy from the lack of breath, all the pleasure you’re feeling making glossy eyes flutter back with lips agape in a silent moan.

Your body seizes up to tremble all the way down to your toes curling, breath caught in your throat once more when you finally could rasp out a scream of his name as you came hard around his cock. Feeling your orgasm wash over you and through like a broken tidal wave.

“Fucking hell, so tight.” he growls an octave lower barely able to thrust his hips any further into you, fatigue beginning to make its way through. Only able to watch your body tremble down from your orgasm, looking down at you as if he wanted to have you whole with how dark his eyes bore into you “You have zero respect for yourself,” he huffs licking his bottom lip in a pitiful laugh “Smack that pretty fucking cunt, smack it.”

He loved making you feel like nothing but a whore, his whore, this was the night he got what he desired and you would give it.

Making your air catch in your throat as if you weren’t shaking to death from your orgasm. The dirty words he had merely uttered sends chills traveling down straight your spine. Cunt fluttering, with fingers tracing weakly down off to your entrance. So sensitive that you sigh in pleasure, arching head back, fingering your slit like a whore who hasn’t had her fill. Your other busied squeezing and groping the tender flesh before laying an abrupt smack on your clit.

You couldn’t help but arch forward with another broken cry feeling Taehyung buck his hips into you harder but weakly pulling back, “Fuck, again. Keep doing it.” your brows furrowed at the clear challenge, your whines of taehyung’s name not stopping anytime soon. You go on to pulling your hand back and slapping harder this time against your buzzing clit, pulling away almost immediately from the overwhelming stimulation.

“Please.. too much, no more.” your pussy consumed wholly in nerves that spread alight throughout your body, sending you spasms of pleasure with every hit you gave yourself until the man was finally satisfied.

A plain sneer drips in his voice with blatant disappointment “Go ahead, stop.” Fucking devil, he was never going to actually stop until you were on the verge of passing out just like now. You were down to only able to latch weakly onto the man’s neck with sore limbs that felt like jelly, trying your best to hold onto him.

“Relax.” he mutters with a silent hiss, feeling the weak squeezes you kept giving him from the lack of movement, he pulls out with another seething hiss through gritted teeth. You whined more like the baby you were, doing grabby hands for him to pick you up like cum wasn’t dripping down your thighs.

He leans over your shoulder grabbing a few napkins, carrying on to wiping the mess he made on you earlier and your now sore cunt down to your thighs. His brows furrowed throwing the soiled napkins in the bin, his fingertips on your thighs as he ran them over your skin gently staring at you with intent.

You understand, he wants to take care of you, aftercare always began like this.

He hums briefly before smiling small when he sees you make grabby hands for him again.

“You okay, pretty?” you were beginning to grow more tired fighting off yawns, toppling on the fact that your feet were sore from the heels that clung to your heels and well other things. You mutter a soft yes, taehyung nods busy with tucking himself back in his slacks.

Carrying off to scooping you up swiftly from the table to sit you in his lap. As if on instinct from the safe place he gave you, your eyes fluttered closed at the soft and warm feeling of him and hum in tranquility.

Your noises were low and quiet almost like a purring kitten, his palm held close onto your lower back making you nestle into his chest more. While he rolled his chair over to his desk with a cigar back between his fingers, no matter how much you scolded him from all the consequences smoking brung. He would roll his eyes and snub you as if you were being overdramatic. Who cares for lungs and great health, right? You were way too comfortable to care at the moment, it’s his office anyways.

He always knew you hated the smell of cigar smoke, the whole thing if he was being honest. But you always allowed him in moments like this and he appreciated the silence. The man grins to himself at the memory of the first few times he smoked around you, that every single time you would hold your breath until you turned blue to the point where the man would frantically grumble at you to stop and dig his beloved cigar in the tray. Always crossing his arms over his chest in disbelief at how smiley you would get from your success.

A spoiled brat is what you were, but he digresses. Slipping out the matches from the desk drawer he pulls his cigar up between his lips and lights the cancer stick. Shoulders loose, lazing his head back to the ceiling in order to take a proper exhale without hearing the coughing fit you would pull.

The man finally takes a drag from the cigar and exhales the smoke through his lips in rings of smoke. Now this, that. You found incredibly hot whenever he formed smoke rings with his lips, even if he was slowly giving himself cancer. The only joy that his awful smoking habit brought to you was the simple tricks he would do with his pretty mouth. He always looked so in his zone blowing the rings up into the ceiling with no care in the world, it makes you salivate much more seeing his Adam’s apple mixed with glossy lips and then the smoke blazing up through the air? It was a wet dream to be made, and just as he was about to throw the cigar down into his tray, his eyes close for a moment to enjoy the continuous sound of peaceful silence.

He wordlessly moves again with you in his lap, pushing his office chair backward swiveling in his chair rustling around to finally place his favorite record (an old jazz number, of course, mixed with Taehyung‘s famous hums) turning the knob for the volume at a reasonable high and wheeled himself back to snatch up a bottle of whiskey that hadn’t been empty from under his desk, thankfully.

You had a clue of what he was doing, moving around to make yourself more comfortable in his lap while giving enough room for him to make his drink, “Just like routine, hm.” the man pours himself a shot, glancing in disbelief at the almost full bottle and decides on pouring himself one more before sitting comfortably with his hand curled onto your lower back.

He kisses the front of your shoulders carelessly, fingers gracing lightly over your skin; his calloused hands caressing up and down your sensitive spine. His hums growing deeper, he grabs your chin to him pressing lips against yours in a searing kiss full of lust and need.

And god, although he may smoke a chimney. He never without a doubt did not taste like the spearmint chapstick you gifted him for his birthday last year as a gag gift. A gag that would quickly slip into his daily routine, no wonder his lips were so addictive. It’s that damn spearmint chapstick he applied to his lips, all for your liking, little did you know.

“What are you staring at?” he hums at you in question eyes narrowed to you. His eyes darkly clouded, almost hypnotic, the fringe of his hair doing the great job of covering that look he was giving you. Every so often fingers would linger up to line his fringe, humming in tune to the jazz he streamed throughout the room while swaying the both of you side to side, continuously tracing rough digits up and down your spine that shivered at the touch.

“Nothing, admiring you.”

He nods in thought, inhaling more smoke to exhale before taking his shot of whiskey in one gulp without flinching or grimacing. Another bad thing for his health, drinking. But, sadly enough he makes this also look sexy with odd ease.

“Don’t be shy, what happened to my little chatterbox.” he grins patting your back while bouncing his legs with feign excitement.

Your hand canvasses up to cup his cheek with a cheeky grin “I’m here, right here!” you giggle with a squeal from the sudden bounces in lap.

“Ohh, there she is, all it took was a few bounces in my lap.. you’re easy to please.”

You roll your eyes at him trying to fight off the stupid smile that was threatening to break your so called stoic look, awfully failing by the way.

“That is just not true, shut your mouth.”

His brow quirks with question, “Shut my mouth?” giving you the same hard stare that made you squirm awfully in your seat.

“Y-yes.. be good and be quiet.”

“Oh, wow.” he pauses to take another puff of smoke and exhales with great ease, blowing rings of smoke into your face “Maybe, I should of fucked your ass.”

And you’re sure your cheeks are turning blood red, he makes you so god forsaken flustered that your mind short circuits when the same smoke you hate and envy wafts through your face as if he were putting you in a never ending trance to keep you stuck here.

“You wouldn’t dare to.. you’re too obsessed with my,” you swallow hard, nodding to yourself once again for comfort in these awfully painful times “you know.”

And he snickers, his brow ticking higher this time “I know?” he hums almost deeper licking his lips agonizingly slow “I don’t think so, tell me.”

“My.. my,” you stutter and cough like you never heard or ever been acquainted your little brain with words.

“Your cunt.” he hums again, stating it as if it were a hard fact, which it is. You just can’t think to speak for yourself apparently.

And you can’t carry on to respond so you giggle embarrassed and shy like a dumbly flustered school girl landing a smack over his taut chest “Mhm.. that.”

He hums in thought more, running his hand in motion up and down your back “Shy and dumb, you can’t even say the word cunt.”

You flustered up even more, quickly hurrying to bury your face far deep into his neck shaking your head in retaliation. And it’s like you forget the fact that you’re completely naked with once again.. only high heels on.

“You remember nights in this room, where I would only look at your naked body not saying a word.”

Of course you do, those were the nights of the beginning of it all. You nod your head into his neck, you can’t see it but you feel him snicker at you trying to escape his blunt being.

You are convinced on the fact that he has the mindset of a fifty year old man when he is only turning thirty-two today, given how blunt he is and how he holds himself and especially with the way he acts. You are going to assume that law school aged his stoic yet plain spoken soul, even if you have a great honest feeling that no matter his occupation choice, he would of always been like this. You like him the way he is though, even his god awful habits, you are far gone into adoration for this man.

You used to hate the smell of his cigar smoke and strong musky cologne, now you crave for it to scent your clothes when you leave and tonight you beg his scent will stain you for the rest of eternity. You are beginning to lose yourself in all these troubling thoughts, while he is holding you this close and dear to his closed off heart, rubbing lazy patterns into your naked skin.

Now you feel him tapping at your spine, it’s time to come back to him. Thank goodness he’s no actual mind reader.

“Sweet, sweet girl. Come back to earth now.”

You grumble and pull yourself back from him with enough strength from his neck, rubbing fingers into your eyes with another whiny call for his name.

“Taeeehyuuung, I’m here, you disturbed me.”

Suddenly without thought you feel the man tug your hands away from your face and he’s pulling you into a kiss attack, pecking you at a constant from your blushed cheeks down to your collarbones. Making you giggle for him to stop, your voice becoming far too high pitched, squealing and squirming as he buries his face into your neck to plant one last ticklish kiss, finally surrendering.

“Keeping you here forever so no one can touch you,” he hums absorbing your giggles into his heart that soared him with too many feelings to dig from beneath the surface “Oh, really?” your fingers are back to tugging the ends of his hair looking at him with a quizzical look of challenge, as if the man’s words didn’t mean anything.

He doesn’t care for your questionable stare though, handling it well by raising his hand up to cover your mouth shut with the palm of his hand “Really,” he mocks with a roll of his eyes “you’re too good for this world.” he licks his lips again almost asking himself if he should really say this, but he does “And, I love you, my angel right?” you pull away from his hand from your mouth and nod almost barely, your mind drifting to somewhere else.

It was ok.. right. These words didn’t mean anything to him, he was only speaking in the moment like he always would do after sex. And well, he was a self reserved man that needed your body and so did you need his.

You both are going to be ok and fine, it’s fine.

“Tae.” you whisper, calling for him softly.

“Uhm?” he barely replies, nose pressed into the crook between your shoulder and neck.

“I have to tell you something.” he hums in acknowledgement running his fingers up and down your naked skin, feeling you seize under his touch. Confused at the unusual action, he stills his fingers.

You stare off into space and it’s your turn to trace your fingers over his skin, running digits up and down the back of his neck gently twisting your fingers into his hair out of nervous habit. Before you decide it’s only fair, you need to make proper eye contact for what you are about to tell him.

You look up into his bestowed but confused stare, that awaited patiently for what you needed to finally say with such importance.

“I think we should end our arrangement.”

°˖✧ critique + feedback is welcomed ԅ( ˘ω˘ԅ )

a/n: im sure this is one of my worst ive written and the perfectionist in me is sad about it

#bts ff #bts fan fiction #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung x yn #taehyung x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung pwp #bts angst #kim taehyung angst #bts au

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feralthoughtdump · 3 years

Text

Love Me Harder

CW: swearing, smut, reader calls Bucky “Sergeant”, spitting, choking, restraints (with a necktie), spanking, dom!Bucky

Word Count: 2.3k

“Oh you’re really testing me, aren’t you?”

She giggles at Bucky’s words. Her plan was working, and it was working well.

From giving him a quick peek at her lacy black panties while getting ready, to the teasing touches, to her giving the bartender one too many flirty looks, it was all to rile him up. Get him angry, and hopefully end their dry spell.

Well, calling it a dry spell was a bit dramatic. It was just a little over a week without Bucky fucking her. Nevertheless, she was still irritated.

It wasn’t necessarily Bucky’s fault, nor is it hers. They’ve been busy. With him going on back-to-back missions, and her having a jam-packed schedule, neither of them had the time.

But right when they found some time to take a break, Sharon threw a party and insisted that they’d come.

The final straw was when she had taken her panties off in the bathroom and sneakily tucked them into the pocket of Bucky’s jacket. When his fingers grazed over the lace, he saw red. If they weren’t surrounded by others, he would’ve bent her over the bar and fucked her until she forgot her name.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sergeant.” She purrs into his ear and leaves the table, heading off to talk to Sharon.

It wasn’t until a few hours later when the crowd had dissipated and his watch read 1:03 am when the two of them decided to leave.

She was disappointed when he said nothing, or more so, when he did nothing, as they got into the car, ready to head back to their shared Brooklyn apartment.

She took off her makeup and showered with dissatisfaction on the tip of her tongue. Her plan was working, but it failed miserably.

It didn’t help that his hair had begun to get long again. It hung in his face and was always so soft between her fingers.

She loved to grab onto it when his head was between her thighs and the thought of it made her hornier than ever.

Sure, she could just touch herself and relieve the frustration between her legs, but it wasn’t the same. Plus, if Bucky found out, she would be due for the worst spanking of her life.

She walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of his boxers and a thin cami, ready to sleep away the ache between her thighs.

As she crouched down to pet Tux, the little black and white cat they adopted a few months ago, Bucky’s boots crept into her vision, illuminated from the bedside light.

“Look at me, doll.”

His tone was authoritative and demanding so she knew better than to disobey. She looked up into his blue eyes, pleasantly surprised by the anger and lust that glazed over them.

She slowly starts to get up, Tux scampering out of the bedroom door, but Bucky places a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back onto her knees.

He’s still dressed in the party attire, only he’s shed the jacket. Her mouth waters at the sight of his button-up shirt, now untucked from his black jeans with his tie hanging loosely from the collar.

She slowly reached up to unbutton his jeans but he catches her wrist.

“No. Not after the shit you pulled earlier tonight.” He taps his metal fingers on her lower lip. “Open up.”

She parts her lips and lets him slide the metal onto her tongue. They never break eye contact as she sucks, swirling her tongue around the digits.

He lets his other hand caress her face, gently stroking her cheek.

“Good girl.” He murmurs.

She closes her eyes and whines around his fingers.

“You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He cocks his head. “Already so desperate just from sucking my fingers.”

She nods, giving his big doe eyes.

He pulls her fingers from her mouth and hooks his thumb over her teeth.

“Answer me!” He commands.

“Yes!” She struggles to speak with her open mouth.

He bends down and stares daggers into her.

Without speaking, he spits, letting it land on her tongue.

“Don’t you dare swallow until I tell you.”

She nods her head.

He observes her with an amused smirk, watching her eyes water and her jaw tremble. After about a minute, he unhooks his thumb from her jaw. Gently, he taps his fingers against her chin, signaling her to close her mouth.

“Swallow.”

He says nothing as she obediently swallows, then latching his lips onto hers. It’s rough, slopping kissing with teeth knocking into each other and gentle bites at her lips.

When he pulls away from her, she pouts with spit-slicken, swollen lips, the only thing on her mind being Bucky and his cock.

The hardwood floor digs into her knees and she shifts, trying to relieve the pain.

“Do your knees hurt?” He asks, voice low and gentle.

She nods her head.

“Yes Sergeant.”

“I guess I should do something about that.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, you really should.”

She’s taken by surprise at the feeling of his hand grabbing her neck, the metal squeezing at the sides.

“You really need to fix that attitude of yours.” He growls, pulling her up to stand on wobbly feet. “You think that you can flirt with the bartender like a little slut? You think that you can tease me all night in front of Sharon and all her friends?”

“If it’s enough to make you fuck me,” She retorts with a gasp “then yeah. Yeah, I do.”

She realizes that she should’ve just kept her mouth shut when he slams her down onto the bed, her feet bouncing on the mattress.

His grip on her neck tightens and her eyes roll into the back of her head. A whine escapes her lips when he takes his hand away.

“Hands above your head.” He orders. When she doesn’t comply, he lands a hard slap on her thigh, making her cry out. “Now!”

She hurriedly obeys and watches with excited eyes as he loops his tie around her wrists, binding them together with a tight knot.

Her mouth stretches into a smile when Bucky shrugs off his dress shirt. She drools at the sight of his form, especially at the way his biceps flex when he pulls his undershirt over his head.

“Like what you see, doll?”

She bites her lip and nods.

“Such a shame I’m not letting you touch me. You’ve done plenty of that tonight.”

Her heart drops and a whimper slips past her lips.

All she wanted to do was get her hands on him but Bucky is denying her of that. It wasn’t fair.

Well, in retrospect, she probably deserves it.

So she sighs and pouts, hoping that her wide-eyed gaze would be enough to convince him to be nicer to her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes. “I just- I just wanted you to fuck me.”

Bucky wraps his hands around her ankles and pulls her down the bed.

“Oh, doll, is that all you wanted?” He gently caresses her calf. “You just wanted me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yes Sergeant.” She whines, all gaspy and desperate. “Can you please fuck me?”

He lowers himself onto the bed, letting her legs draw over his shoulders.

“You’ve got such good manners, doll.” He plants a wet kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“Asking so nicely too.” He tugs her (well, his) boxers down her legs and throws them onto the floor. “But I’m not fucking you yet.”

She’s reduced to a panting mess when he eases a finger inside of her.

Her eyes squeeze shut as she takes a deep breath, careful not to whine too loudly. It was far too late at night and she wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.

Bucky’s done so little to her yet the way he dominates her, the way he’s able to take control over her, it leaves her dizzy.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He murmurs against her thighs. “Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

She shakes her head.

“The neighbors.” she whispers “I don’t want to wake them up.”

He shoves another finger inside of her, making her yelp at the stretch.

“I don’t care if they hear you. In fact,” he curls his fingers up, hitting that spot inside of her. “I want them to hear you. Let them know you’re mine.”

She bites her lip, still reluctant, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

He pistons his fingers in and out of her and swirls his tongue around her clit.

Her resolve is slowly starting to chip away as she lets out a breathy moan.

“Bucky!”

He responds with a hum, the vibrations making her clench down on his metal fingers.

She’s close. Very, very close.

Her chest rises and falls as she struggles to control her volume, biting down on her lip so hard, it’s close to bleeding.

“I’m-” tears pool in her eyes. “I’m gonna-”

He swiftly pulls away from her, slipping his fingers out of her.

“No, you aren’t.”

She tries to sit up, but finds it difficult, given her restrained hands. She collapses back onto the bed with a frustrated groan.

“Please!”

He takes hold of her face, squishing her cheeks together.

“I decide when you get to cum. Now, if you don’t stop being a whiny brat, I won’t let you cum at all. Do you understand?”

She nods her head, tears spilling over her lashline.

“Words, angel, use your words.” He chastises.

“Yes- Yes Sergeant.” She quavers. “Yes, I understand.”

His hold on her chin is released and she inhales a shaky breath. When she thinks he isn’t looking, too occupied with stripping off his jeans, she discreetly tries to rub her thighs together.

She isn’t so lucky.

As a quiet gasp leaves her lips, his belt cracks down on her thigh. Her once quiet gasp turns into a loud yelp.

“What did I just say?”

“I’m sorry!” She wails. “I just wanted to cum!”

He flips her over onto her stomach and smacks her ass with the belt, leaving a bright red stripe on her flesh.

She bites down onto the pillow and lets out a cry, the ache in her tummy growing stronger.

“No, I don’t think you do.” The leather cracks onto her skin again and she pulls at her bindings. “Because if you wanted to cum, you wouldn’t be so disobedient.”

She buries her face in the pillow, muffling her sobs as he continues his assault on her ass, occasionally switching out the leather belt for his metal hand, worsening the sting.

“I knew you’d like this.” She hears him murmur, swiping a finger through her dripping cunt. “My dirty little thing.”

He chuckles at her little yelp when he pinches the burning skin.

“You’re awfully cute, sweet angel.” He coos. “So cute, in fact, I think I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He pulls her hips up, her upper half sliding down the mattress.

“Are you going to fuck me?” She asks sweetly, turning her head to look at him.

“Oh, angel,” He gently pushes her sweaty hair out of her face. “Of course. I think I’ve punished you enough.”

She winces and pulls at her restraints as he slowly pushes his cock inside. She’s taken him before, but she never really got used to the stretch.

When he’s fully situated inside of her, he places a strong hand on her back, keeping her still on the mattress.

“Remember what I said, doll?” He asks.

“You decide when I cum.” She answers.

He pulls out halfway and slams himself back inside of her, making her wail.

“Good girl.”

The way he’s got her positioned allows him to go deeper, each thrust hitting that spot inside of her that would send her toppling over the edge in a few minutes. Normally, this would be a good thing, but now? When she’s so close? Not really.

She’s no longer holding back on her volume. Her pleading sobs and desperate whines ricochet throughout the room, for sure, waking up the neighbors.

As she tightens around his cock, she looks out the window, trying to distract herself with the view of the city skyline.

Her little distraction fails to do anything when he snaps his forward, driving his cock deep into her.

“Fuck!” She curses through gritted teeth. “I’m close. I’m really close.”

“Hold it.” He huffs.

“I can’t!” She protests.

Bucky removes his hand from her back and places it on her tied wrists.

“Yes, you can. Do you know why?”

She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Because I said so.”

Her mouth hangs open, moaning his name and desperate pleas.

She’s clenching tightly around him, making him curse.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, angel.” He hangs his head, his hair ticking at her skin. “Gonna make me cum.”

He lowers his head to her face.

“You wanna cum? You wanna cum with me?”

She gives him an enthusiastic nod, a quiet ‘yes, please’ spilling from her lips.

“Are you going to be good?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Gonna misbehave and act out again?”

“No, Sergeant.”

He grins at her.

“Good. Good girl. Come on, cum for me.”

The pressure inside of her snaps and she cums with a loud cry, pleasure wracking through her body.

She feels him release inside of her and she blissfully hums, a fucked out smile forming on her lips.

“Fuck.” He quietly mutters, carefully undoing the tie on her wrist.

When her hands are free, he lies down next to her and pulls her close.

She quietly rests her head on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, nosing at his throat.

“Thanks.” She giggles, her head all dizzy.

“For what, doll?”

“For the sex. I really needed it.”

He brings her wrists up to his lips, gently kissing along the red marks.

“I think we both needed it.”

He turns off the bedside lamp and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Come on, doll. Get some sleep. It’s late.”

Before they drift off to sleep, she quietly speaks up.

“I love you, Bucky.”

He gives her a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #tfatws

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“harry’s stylist, right?” part II

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))

and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this

Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it

part 1

After the call with Jeff, which wasn’t really a conversation at all, moreso a berating from him, she was in the worst mood. She shrugged off the Bode jacket and hung it up in her entryway closet. She wasn’t planning on wearing it ever again. Without the jacket on, her shirt that seemed to be exactly on the nose with it’s “we’re in the shit” graphic was clear and she untucked it from her light mint pants. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead of picking her phone up again, she decided she could do without communication for a while. Her feet padded to her bedroom, after removing her nikes and socks. In her bedroom she opened up her record player, wanting music, but not wanting to be bothered with her laptop since it had a connection to the internet.

She grabbed her Electric Warrior by T. Rex and slipped out the first record from its sheath. As she set up the music, she couldn’t remember where she’d even gotten the record but for some reason it had called to. She skipped over Mambo Sun, the first track, though, and had it play Cosmic Dancer first. It was calming to her, she swayed a bit to the soothing beat and then climbed into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered about when her life had gotten so complicated. The rhythm in the music and the exhausting thought material lulled her to sleep as the afternoon sun washed her room a perfect golden from behind her shade.

When she woke up again, it was midnight and she was starving. The record had stopped spinning hours ago, she hadn’t even gotten through side A. It was forgotten as she made her way to her kitchen, groggily.

After settling on cereal and an alcoholic seltzer for dinner, she was really in the mood to treat herself, she made her way back to her living space. On the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and spooned the sugary food into her mouth. She had only soy milk in the place because she didn’t like cow’s milk and it didn’t keep when she was gone for extended periods of time. Then as she sipped from the black cherry White Claw, she dug her hand into the cushion next to her. Her hand reemerged with her discarded phone from earlier. She decided it was reasonable to go on it now.

More messages from various people in her life and hundreds of social media notifications. She was going to ignore social media for as long as she possibly could. Four missed calls. 2 voicemails. Styles Harry. Why she kept contacts backwards in her phone was unimportant, it’s just what she did.

She sighed and took a bigger sip of the barely alcoholic drink. Then clicked the voicemail notifications and pressed the first one on speaker as she began to read his texts as well. Then the next voicemail. She checked the time in California, it was still a reasonable part of the day there so instead of texting back she rang him.

“Hello?”

“Har- H. Hi.”

“Y/N! Are you alright?” The concern apparent in his tone. She was taken aback. He hadn’t necessarily sounded angry in his texts or voicemails, but she just assumed he was being courteous since it was a live conversation.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No! Why would I be?”

“Because I just had my ass handed to me by Jeff earlier.” She slightly mumbled and shrugged, still upset with how she had been spoken to by Jeff.

“Oh gosh, I told him not to be harsh. It’s honestly not a big deal. I thought it was fine, you texted me too!”

“Yeah, well apparently wearing your clothes means we’re dating and that’s not cool in the world’s eyes,” you scoff.

“I know how much you like that coat...I thought you looked great in it, too.” He finishes in a slight whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

“Harry…” you can’t keep the smile off your face. It was a cute compliment even if the situation wasn’t ideal. “Why do your fans have to be so smart and know there’s only two of those coats in the world and I don’t own the other one.”

He laughs, blushing at how you said his name. This time not using his nickname didn’t bother him, it felt even more intimate somehow.

He rubs a hand through his hair, “I know, pesky little devils, gotta love’em, though”

She hums, not sure if she can agree about loving them right now since they’re probably eating her alive all over social media.

“So you’re alright, darling?” He asks again.

“Mhmm,” she pauses at the pet name, it was soothing right now. All she wanted was to curl into his chest, but he was half a world away, quite literally. His words would have to do in his absence. “I’m really glad you’re not mad at me, H. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse.”

He huffs, wishing he could be with her to comfort her. He hated this part of his life. A friend couldn’t borrow a piece of his clothing without everyone assuming that they were seeing each other. It was disgusting and it made him dislike tabloids and social media even more than he already did.

“Trust me. I’d never be mad at you, pet. And I’d definitely never be mad at you for looking good as fuck in my clothes.”

“Shut up!” She squeals, his tone turning from earnest to teasing in one breath. He cackles on the other end of the line because despite her mean words, he could hear the smile on her lips.

“When are you flying back to London?” Her voice grows quiet again after she takes another sip of her drink.

“Thursday,” he almost whispers back, having contained his mirth again.

“We have some work to do on your Graham Norton and Jingle Bell Ball outfits. The listening party ones are all picked up -”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off, “It’s late for you, go to bed. Try not to stress out too much, we’ll talk when I’m back about work. For now, take a few days off to not think about my clothes.”

She sighs, “Thanks, H. You’re right. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Goodnight, m’love.”

She ends the phone call and chalks the almost ‘my’ sounding syllable that she heard before love was just her tired mind and Harry’s mumbling voice. It most certainly wasn’t.

After a restful few days of doing absolutely nothing, something rare for Y/N, she was extremely well rested. So much so that she was peacefully asleep when Harry let himself into her flat since they had agreed to meet at her place when he got back to London. As much as he wanted her to take time off and not over work herself, his schedule was a busy one and now that he was back, they had work to do.

Inside her flat, he was greeted with silence. He made his way to her bedroom at the back of the flat. He’d been here a handful of times. She always told him she preferred to spread out when she worked and Harry’s was the place for that. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he pushed it open slowly with his ring clad hand. His black nails are freshly painted and shiny, no chips. Still in her bed, Y/N shifted around softly. He smiled to himself, taking in how the room smelled over lavender and how she had pink floral sheets. He walked to the window and raised the shade, hoping to have her wake up without and coaxing from him.

“H,” her voice mumbles into her pillow and he thinks she’s woken up. His face turns to look at her, but her eyes are still closed and she looks completely asleep. He wonders if she’s trying to trick him, but then she mumbles again.

“Mhhh, tha’ tickles,” and she giggles. He kind of grimaces, feeling like he shouldn’t be hearing this. He hadn’t known she spoke in her sleep, it was sweet, but with the context right now, he thought him having this knowledge might not sit well with her.

“Y/N,” he says loudly, before clearing his throat. Her eyes shoot wide and she sits up, dropping the sheet she had been snuggling.

“Harry! Oh my god!”

“Meeting, remember?”

“Oh my god,” she glances around her surroundings, Harry still standing at her window. “What time is it?”

“1 pm. We said 1 right?”

“We did, I just...I don’t know what happened. Sorry, give me a second. I’m out of it.”

When she emerged from her room, dressed and ready for the day, Harry had brewed a pot of coffee with her machine that she really only had for guests.

“Sorry again,” she sits at her countertop, searching for her notebook in her bag.

“No worries,” then he leans across the countertop, “Seemed like you were in the middle of a nice dream.”

His brows are raised as she avoids his gaze. She flushes easily, “I- it was...just one of those usual dreams.”

“You have dreams about me often?”

“I didn’t say that!” Her eyes shoot up to meet his and he grins. He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again.

“I heard you say ‘H’.”

She rolls her eyes, “That proves nothing.”

They both stare at each other for a minute, not talking or moving. Harry is simply grinning at her as she twitches her hand with her pen in it now. Her eyes are trying to figure out what Harry’s getting at, searching his expression for how he feels about knowing she dreams of him. She certainly wasn’t going to get into it with him, even if he did continue prodding.

“Alright,” she begins when he doesn’t seem to want to press it further. “Oh!” She jumps up, dropping her pen and forgetting about whatever else she was going to say. “Your jacket! And shirt! I cleaned the shirt and the jacket…” She runs out of the room to go to her front closet where she had hung up both the jacket and the shirt.

Returning, she holds them out to Harry and he rounds the countertop to look at them.

“Perfect shape,” he admires the spotless shirt and his beloved jacket. He puts them on the back of the chair that was next to them. “Won’t forget my jacket again.”

She smiles sheepishly, thinking back to Jeff’s conversation with her. Harry notices her change in demeanor and takes one of her hands. Her eyes flash up to his face and her body tenses, he feels it even in her hand.

“Have you gone on any social media since you’ve been home?” His eyes are wide as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.

She softens slightly, “Oh yeah, after the first day I decided to check. Most were funny and sweet, their nasty comments didn't get to me.”

Her eyes are big on her face and Harry watches as her worries and concerns all wash through the swirling colors in them. He wants to take all of that pain away and just stare into her abyss forever.

“What did Jeff say exactly?” He knows that’s what she’s alluding to. Harry loved his manager, but when he had called him about the jacket incident he had been pretty short with Harry and hadn’t given much information on his chat with Y/N. The way she looked right now bothered him because ultimately Harry was in charge of Y/N in his employment of her and if Jeff had acted like her superior in a way that was harmful he’d be downright upset.

Her eyes grow glassy immediately and Harry’s anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. She tries to blink anything away, but fails.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, it wasn’t terrible. It’s just, all my life, I’ve had to work to be taken seriously because of who I am and I hate when I get talked down to by a man. Especially over a stupid fucking publicity thing for you. Like I’m sorry, but I don’t see you as a public figure where I have to worry about every goddamn thing I do messing up your image.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, realizing she’d gotten really worked up as she spoke. The tears running down her face more in anger than sadness. Harry watches on, letting her work through her thought process. “He was just so mean… for what?” She whispers finally.

“Oh god…darling,” Harry grips her hand more firmly. He wants to take her in his arms, but he’s not sure if that’s what’s best for her right now, so he just keeps holding her hand. She stares up at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes now tinted a light red.

“I’m sorry he spoke to you in that way. That isn’t his job at all, I’ll definitely talk to him since I didn’t have the full story before. He gets very worried about the media perception thing, especially right now with the album.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, blinking up at Harry. “I know your image is important, too, otherwise why the fuck would I be here? Right? I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal I borrowed the jacket.”

“In a perfect world my image wouldn’t matter at all,” Harry sighed, “Fame is a stupid, fickle thing musicians like me get stuck with.”

“Please, you love the attention,” she teases, poking at his chest. The sweatshirt he wore wrinkling under her touch.

“‘M serious,” he insists, “I’m saying it shouldn’t matter that you borrowed my jacket, but sadly it comes across to the rest of the world like I’m dating you.” He pokes her sternum in return.

“And that would be the end of the world?” she smiles, her tone still teasing, but that worry is back and swimming in her eyes again.

This time, though, Harry must not see it because he laughs and lets go of her hand. “For a lot of people, I think it might be.”

She bites at her lip and tries to contain the laugh that bubbles in her. He was right and as he wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, she shook her head trying to rid herself of those pesky feelings that had been hoping for a different answer.

The next few weeks go off without a hitch. Harry’s outfits look incredible for the listening parties. Then for the Graham Norton Show, the Jingle Bell Ball, and the One Night Only at the Forum. Every single outfit is received with praise and everything seems to be coming up Harry Styles. Y/N has been traveling to most of his appearances, making sure everything is in order before he goes out. She’s always by his side before he walks out into the public eye. Taking his picture and saving it in the lookbook that keeps growing, smoothing over his lapels, either unbuttoning or buttoning a middle button when she thought he had too many or not enough undone for the look. Whatever it was, she was there for him.

Then, after his appearances, they would debrief. Debriefs really were just time that Harry carved out in his schedule to just be alone with Y/N. Sure, they talked about clothes, that’s how they had first connected, but it always turned to other ideas. They’d talk about his songs and she’d ask about the meanings that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world. He’d happily tell her about it and they enjoyed that time together. There were stolen glances and lingering touches, but at the end of the day they were professionals who were friends. It wasn’t maybe what either of them wanted, but they weren’t unhappy.

Harry just got back from Los Angeles after filming for his Ellen show appearance and he was set to play the Bowery Ballroom tomorrow in London. After this there was going to be a lot of downtime on Harry’s schedule because of the holidays. He had marked out almost a whole month of time off, at least from appearances. They still had to start planning tour outfits and finalize the outfits for the events after the break. Right now, all she was focused on was getting Harry into the beautiful yellow Gucci suit that was a twin of the Watermelon Sugar suit he had worn on Saturday Night Live. Harry said he wanted to check the suit before tomorrow for some reason, so Y/N had made her way over.

She finished buttoning the sleeves of the jacket and stepped back to admire Harry once again. No matter what he wore he always looked marvelous in her eyes. She’d argue anyone could say that about Harry though. He could pull anything off and make it his own with barely any effort.

Today, his hair was disheveled and mused from his plane ride back into London. The flight from California to England was a rough one, even when you traveled in the type of luxury Harry did. Despite his tired body and eyes, the suit looked stunning on him. He wore it without shoes and she giggled when she saw his feet. His feet tattoos never failed to make her laugh and she had no explanation for why.

While Harry looked good in everything, there actually was something a little off with the suit right now. Normally, it hugged him just right to make him look perfectly muscled and defined, but it seemed to be hanging a little looser in some areas.

She tapped a finger to her lip, looking him over, unsure of what was off.

“Did you lose weight, H?”

“Huh?” He looks down at himself and somewhat notices the looser fit, but wasn’t quite sure if he had lost weight. “Don’t think so.”

She hums and steps closer to him, dropping her hands to tug at various parts of the suit, trying to figure out whether she should take anything in or leave it be.

“It’s probably all the travel I’ve been doin’. Can be draining me more than I realize.” He ponders as she continues to work silently over the suit.

Her hands travel beneath the suit and encircle his waist, almost as if she’s hugging him, but not really. His stomach flexes at the contact, her chest pressed softly against his. She grips a bit of the shirt from the back and then unfolds herself from him to look at the mirror. The shirt is now taut against his sternum and pectorals under the coat. She tilts her head, silently asking him his opinion.

“I think it’s fine the way it is, honestly.”

“Okay,” she nods and releases her hold on the shirt, hand slithering out from beneath his coat. He exhales deeply through his nose. “Make sure you eat properly tonight.” She says before beginning to pack up her things, done for the day. Harry begins to undress himself.

She turns back to face him as he hands her the jacket and shirt, her eyes run over the length of his torso, both for the sake of checking on his health and for other purely selfish reasons. All the tattoos still remained where they always were when she saw him like this. It never got old, his beautiful body. He didn’t even need clothes to look good. She blinks back to reality when the fabric comes in contact with her hand.

“Make sure you treat yourself this holiday season, you deserve it, H. And it seems like any weight you ever gain is muscle anyways, so you don’t exactly have to worry around the sweets table.”

Harry laughs heartily as he slips on his long sleeve shirt he was wearing. Then he starts on the pants as she turns away again to hang up the top parts of the suit.

Finally, she adds when he hands her the suit pants, “Just don’t want you overworking yourself, seriously, H.”

He looks at her as he buttons up his baggy blue jeans. The outfit he wore was just the first clean things he had grabbed when he had gotten home. His green eyes turn serious after the mirthfilled last few moments.

He crosses to her side as she puts away the clothes in the garment bag. His hand lands softly on her shoulder and she turns to him at his touch. “I know. You’re so good to me, darling. Always making sure I’m taking care of myself…”

It’s quiet. The soft breeze in the London air outside barely whispers around the house. Harry’s voice was laced with love, even if it wasn’t his intention. His ‘thank you’ was piercing into her heart and his touch wasn’t helping her stay focused. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt Harry take a step closer to her, his head ducking slightly down to her level. Then, right on the edge of her left temple and her hairline, his soft lips pressed against her skin. They brushed against her for just a moment, lingering for the respectful amount of time. But all she wanted was anything but respectful. She wanted his lips pressed against hers, she wanted his hands in her hair, yanking her deeply into him. She wanted to scream when he pulled away, but she didn’t. She smiled warmly up at Harry and her eyelashes fluttered on their own accord like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thank you,” he whispers again.

“What would you do without me?” She pushes at him playfully, shaking off her giddiness. Then she turns back to her work, scooping up all the items of hers on the table.

“Probably have to walk around naked, huh?”

“Oh my god!” She laughs and starts for the door, Harry follows behind to walk to her out to her car. “Maybe I should quit! People would love it.” She continues laughing as she hangs the garment in the passenger's seat side.

“No thank you, please,” Harry hurriedly says.

She turns to him as she closes the door and leans against the car. This was their routine right before she left, a final chat against the car before she drove off for the night.

“Tomorrow’s going to be amazing, H. It’s gonna be electric!” She scrunches her nose slightly at the pun about the venue as she smiles up at him.

He sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, holding back a laugh. His eyes narrow at her, slyly. “Very funny.”

She only winks at him before pushing herself off of her car and walks to the driver’s side of the car.

He waves as she begins to pull out of the driveway and she flashes him a peace sign and a mouthed ‘Bye’ when she turns onto the street.

After the Bowery Ballroom show, Y/N barely sees Harry at the after party. She doesn’t worry about it too much. His management was going to have a holiday party next week before the little break began for the team. So, she knew she’d see him before she flew back to see her family for the holidays. She was going home for two weeks and then would be back for New Year’s and then would get back to work after that.

She saw Harry exactly twice after the show. First, she saw Harry right after the show and he was all sweaty and exhilarated. He tackled her in a bear hug with such strength she would have fallen back if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. When he pulled away, he placed two extremely slobbery kisses on her cheeks and she laughed, tipping her head back in pure bliss. Then he was pulled away by Jeff to change and get ready for the after party.

Jeff had apologized over text about the tone he had taken over the whole jacket thing, but only Harry had told him to. It was fine with Y/N, she told him that too, but she just never felt like being around him for very long if she could help it after that. That’s why she liked that most of her job entailed dealing with Harry directly. If she had to go through Jeff for everything she’d likely pull her hair out. He was still short with her at whole team meetings and not necessarily courteous when they were around each other casually. Like she said, it was fine, she just didn’t make it her business to be around Jeff.

The second time she saw Harry was around half past one am. She was pretty sure it was time for her to uber home and she wanted to say goodbye to Harry. Her well-liquored body stumbled around the big room. Deciding to take shots with the band had gotten her to where she was now and she wasn’t complaining she was happy. She was in a celebratory mood and wanted to see Harry right now. Tell him how much fun she had and how proud she was of him. How much she loved him… Hopefully she kept that part to herself.

“Harry!” She finally exclaims, coming upon a group of people surrounding the star himself. She ignored the rest of the people, likely stars too, but she really couldn’t care less. One of them tried to straighten up as if he was going to block her from Harry, feeling like she maybe wasn’t someone Harry wanted to see since they didn’t know her. No one seemed to ever recognize Y/N as Harry’s stylist when it mattered. Harry waved them off, a little drunk as well, but obviously recognizing Y/N.

“Darling!” He exclaims and raises his arms out to her. She grips onto him quickly and snuggles into him happily. With her still in his arms, he turns them from the prying eyes of the group he had been with.

She raises her head from his warm chest so that her lips are near his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. Styles.”

“Thanks, baby,” he purrs into her ear, his voice coarse and low, carrying over the music. She giggles at the nickname, her entire plan going out the metaphorical window.

Her fingers smooth up over the fabric on his chest, a nice short sleeve silk button down that was tucked into dark high waisted trousers - they’d picked it out last week. One of her fingers begins to trace around his collarbone after she reaches the opening of the shirt. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. They were so needy for each other. Each touch would coarse heat through them every time.

“I’m going…” She says after a moment of silence between them. The party was raging around them, most not paying any mind to the two of them off in their own world.

“Don’t go,” Harry practically begs. A hand flies up to pet over the top of her hair and she smiles even wider.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” she makes a face in response to Harry’s pout, “You have lots of people to entertain, Mr. Styles.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip as she stares at him intently.

He groans and pulls her closer. This time his lips brush right against her ear and she wants to shiver, but he keeps her in place. “If you keep calling me that, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

Her eyes widen but her hazy mind isn’t processing all of what is going on. She barely takes inventory of ‘baby’, for him to say she’s turning him on without actually saying it. Tomorrow Y/N would have to deal with that one.

She pulls back from him, creating space between their chests, but he still holds her waist close to him. She leans up and places a kiss on the corner of his lips. It’s technically supposed to be a kiss on the cheek but if she had moved her lips a millimeter to the right they would have been on Harry’s. This gesture has his grip tightening on her, but she pulls away.

“Goodnight!” She sings as she bounces out of sight, wiggling her fingers in a wave before completely being gone.

Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, kind of in shock of the last five minutes. He had liked it. He just hadn’t expected it. When he turns his attention back to the group that was behind him, it’s not the same as it was before. Jeff looks at him with narrowed eyes and Harry’s eyes go wide and his grin widens as well.

Tonight is the management holiday party for Harry’s team. Y/N and Harry had seen each other two days after the Electric Ballroom to debrief, but mostly to get brunch. They didn’t talk about the little teases they shared at the after party. Both of them just assumed that the other probably didn’t remember and didn’t want to go through the trouble and embarrassment of recounting it. Alcohol has that effect of making you a little bolder than you actually are.

Brunch with Harry solidified Y/N’s thoughts on fame. Celebrity could be so strange, because there was the one day when she got photographed with just Harry’s jacket on and there was speculation of dating, but then she could go out to brunch with him and not be bothered at all. It made absolutely no sense.

Anyway, tonight there were no gifts, but Y/N had gotten Harry something even though he said he never needs anything. She hoped she’d be able to give it to him after they were walking back to their transportation since she wanted it to be a surprise and not have everyone know she gave him a gift. It wasn’t a big deal - or maybe it was - it was just an item she knew Harry had been fawning over. It was so him and she knew he’d probably end up buying it for himself eventually, but it felt nice to be able to give him something for once. Price didn’t matter. Still, she was a little nervous and tucked and re-tucked it several times in the back seat of her car before heading inside.

It was a restaurant his management had rented out for their party. She gave her name and headed inside. The lighting was overly dimmed and it smelled like expensive alcohol and delicious food. It was everything an A-list singer deserved as a celebration. She never could fully grasp that the Harry she had gotten to know as her friend was also the same Harry that the entire world was infatuated with, for good reason. He was charming in the best way, terribly sincere, insanely talented, and all around a good human being. She knew that, it just surprised her that everyone else knew it too. There was just that disconnect for her that she shared him with the rest of the world.

Her high heeled heels brought her to the backroom of the restaurant. They managed to shimmer even in the dim light. She had gone for winter chic with a sequin and mesh white dress, that looked like fresh snow with a cream and blue swirling design on the under layer so that her undergarments weren’t showing through. It was like a modern ice princess look that was finished with her heels that had sparkles on the entire back of them. Her hair was down and her makeup a little more done up than usual. She used a light blue eyeshadow to imitate ice and added some rhinestones on the inner parts of her eyes. She may have watched a Euphoria-inspired makeup look tutorial on youtube and she wasn’t afraid to admit that.

The scene she came upon was what she expected. Lots of men in suits and a good amount of women in power suits too. The people in any interesting clothes were Harry and his band. Some of the business people’s partners were dressed up more but it all wasn’t too exciting. Plus, Harry’s famous friends group hadn’t shown up yet. Y/N hid her disappointment easily, not surprised about the lack of flavor she saw in the style. She just repeated the mantra her mother had always told her: “You can never be overdressed, only underdressed.” It stuck with her always and made her go for those bolder styles when she needed to.

Harry was there, sipping on a glass of water. She figured he might not want to get started on drinking so early in the evening. Tonight didn’t feel like a drinking night for her either. After the last big party, she had woken up with a massive hangover and a few memories that she wished she hadn’t made. She wasn’t planning on repeating that series of events.

As she goes to grab a glass of water on the large table, she gets a tap on her shoulder. She spins.

“Happy Holidays, darling!”

Her eyes widen and her smile immediately grows. Harry grins back at her, his mouth open in the perfect winning smile of his and his eyes twinkling with happiness.

“Happy Holidays to you too, Mr.-” She stops herself, remembering back to the last party, “H.” She finishes firmly after clearing her throat. Harry’s grin turns to a wicked knowing smirk.

“I’m happy you came! I know you’re not super connected to all of the groups here, Harry Lambert is around somewhere though and I know he’s been wanting to talk with you about clothes.”

Harry watches as her eyes shine even brighter when he mentions the other stylist. It was true, Y/N didn’t really mesh with any of the groups that worked around Harry. The stylist kind of stood alone in regards to where she fit into his life, not the business part, not the band part, not the crew, and not the other celebrities. Harry Lambert and other fashion people didn’t always come to these events so it was seldom that Y/N had her own people to talk to. Not that mingling was hard for her, he just knew she didn’t like to do that as much so whenever another stylist or designer was there he always made sure to introduce them - if they weren’t already acquainted.

“That’s amazing! I haven’t seen him in ages… I’ll have to get his opinion on how I’ve been doing.”

Harry licks his lips as he laughs a little at her comment. She looked beautiful tonight and he wanted to tell her.

“Harry. What the hell are you wearing?” Her eyes flash as she takes in his appearance.

He looks down at himself and then back at her confused. They hadn’t picked the outfit out, but he thought it looked nice.

“Obviously not the suit! On your head?”

“Oh. It’s a gift from Mitch and Sarah.” He pauses to reach up to play with the headband sat on top of his curls. “It’s mistletoe and it seems like you’re standing beneath it. You know what that means,” he toys with it as he wiggles his eyebrows.

She scoffs sarcastically, looking to the side for a means of escape, “No way.”

“C’mon! It’s tradition!” He steps forward playfully and she places a hand on his chest.

“You can kiss my cheek.” She says finally and Harry looks at her disapprovingly.

He wags a finger at her with his free hand, “You’re the one under the mistletoe, you have to kiss me.”

“Okay that’s definitely not how this works! Now you don’t get any kiss at all, you cheeky bastard.”

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re the one with coal in your stocking.”

“Haha.” Her eyes once again roll to the side as she pushes him back and he steps back like she actually had a strong push. Then they both actually laugh and she gives him a quick side hug with a whispered, “there”. Harry smiles down at her, but it falters slightly when she’s already pulling away. He wanted her at his side the entire night, but sadly that wasn’t reality.

She drags him around the restaurant in search of Harry Lambert since the party had started to grow and she needed his height to get her where she wanted to go. Maybe. Or maybe she just liked the way he held her hand to lead her through the crowd that was most definitely not dense enough for her to have to hold on to him to stay with him at all.

She sees more of Harry at this party. They have some good conversations about plans for the holidays and snickering about who was already too drunk even though it wasn’t even midnight. She can’t believe he keeps on the stupid headband all night, giving and receiving various types of kisses from every person he talks to. Some are kisses on the cheek, others are friendly smooches on the mouth. Thankfully all of them are those cute little pecks that friends always tend to share, otherwise Y/N might have had to excuse herself and leave early. Jealous little thing.

As the night dragged on, she began to question herself on that front. Why was she growing jealous when friends would kiss Harry. She could've kissed Harry. She practically did the other week. But now, after refusing him a mistletoe kiss and seeing everyone else do what she didn’t have the courage to do, she felt childish. Well, childish or not, she knew why she couldn’t kiss him. Kissing Harry wouldn’t be just a friend thing for her. It would mean a lot more and if it was just a friend thing for him she wouldn’t be sure if she could handle going on with their working relationship after. Her job was the most important thing in her life. Being a stylist, loving clothes, and working on personal designs for the future was her life. Giving up this prestigious of a job was out of the question. Maybe the idea of being with Harry had crossed her mind, but she didn’t know how it could ever be realistic. If they got together could she keep her job? Would she have to quit? And find a new one? There were too many unknowns for her to ever actually entertain it. That’s why they went to the edge so often, she always would back away and she was sure that if she didn’t, Harry would for her.

He knew her. He knew her passion, he watches it firsthand everyday they work together. Even when they’re not working he can see her mind forming different ideas just based off of the things she sees people wear on the streets. He watches her fingers fiddle over her phone, typing out notes for design ideas and screenshotting inspiration. So every time they went to the edge of changing their relationship, he knew he couldn’t push it because he never wanted to hurt her or her dreams in some way. She was too important to him to simply mess that up. Even if it hurt him.

So when Harry slides in the back of her car that night at 2 am because Y/N says she has something important to show him, he’s fully ready to stop their flirting from going any further. And when she tells him she needs to show him something, she has the most pure intentions when she pulls out the nicely wrapped box, its wrapping paper a swirling lavender pattern that’s really not festive at all, but she prefers it.

He looks between her and the box that she’s now placed in his lap. His green eyes flickering even in the darkness of the car, the city lights illuminating the backseat enough for them.

“You know I don’t need anything…” He fiddles with the skinny mesh ribbon neatly tied around the box.

She makes a little gesture, pushing him to open the present, “I know, but I also know you’ve been wanting this and you deserve it.”

He unwraps the paper to reveal a Gucci box and he rolls his eyes at her, but smiles genuinely as he lifts the top of the box off. It reveals a 1955 Horsebit Shoulder Bag in beautiful shiny black leather. It’s gorgeous.

“I can’t...I don’t know what to say,” Harry’s eyes are huge as his delicate hands ghost over the bag's details. He had been wanting it and he hadn’t gotten the courage to buy it yet. He liked purses, but sometimes he even had his doubts about what he could pull off.

His eyes go back to her and she smiles widely at him, all her teeth on display because she’s just that happy. “This is a really expensive bag, Y/N.”

“If it makes you feel better I can charge it as a wardrobe expense, but then it’s not really a gift from me,” She sighs at his unrelenting gaze.

“Thank you.” He touches at the bag again and then does a dance in his spot. “And don’t worry, I will always remember this as a gift from you. I love it.”

She smiles and leans over the box to look at the bag, admiring the beauty of it as well. “It’s pretty great.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hums and she raises her eyes, seeing his trained on her face. “You’re under the mistletoe again, darling,” he smirks.

Her breath stops once again, how could he do that to her so easily? Their eyes stay locked under the city lights. The fake mistletoe bobs above them still connected to the silly headband. It’s colorful leaves and fun stripes mock her when she flicks her gaze up to it for a moment. Then back to Harry. Harry who’s holding the gift she just gave him. Harry who looks beautiful tonight. Harry who is her favorite person in the world to spend time with.

Now. Now is when she pulls back from the ledge. This is when she takes a step back and stops herself. When Harry laughs it off. When she pushes him away. When they go about the rest of their day like that electricity hadn’t gone up either of their spines.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, she nods in agreement and then crashes her lips against Harry’s. It’s not like those friend kisses that had happened with him all night under that same mistletoe. It’s hard and hot and fast. Her lips are pressed to his for one searing moment and then she’s biting his lip, desperate to taste more of him. She had been longing for this for so long and now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go.

Harry’s hands fly to her cheeks as he pulls her closer, more into his lap. He pushes the box into the front area of the car blindly. The gift was completely forgotten. This was a far more important matter. Her lips were wet and plush and they tasted like the single Manhattan she had halfway through the night and vanilla lip gloss. When she bites his lip, he can’t hold back the moan inside his throat and she presses her tongue into his mouth quickly. He was her oasis and she had been traveling for months. He responds with similar vigor, enjoying the way her body presses to his in the backseat of this little car.

They kiss for as long as they can. Licking, sucking, and biting each other’s lips to taste as much as they can. But it’s just kissing. Neither of them work to travel anywhere else. Their lips are seemingly enough. Each press of their lips communicates what they had been longing for. It’s euphoric.

When the windows start to fog and her eyes open for a random moment, she realizes they need to cool whatever this is.

“H-Harry,” She gulps for a breath of air and she tries to get his attention. “I gotta get home.”

“Come back to my place,” he mumbles into her collarbone, happily licking over his love bite.

She laughs and swallows slowly, “That is definitely out of the question, I have a flight tomorrow.”

He removes his mouth from her and straightens up. His lips are even brighter pink than usual and perfectly puffy. His hair disheveled from her hands. She blushes at the thought.

“Right, forgot about that,” he opens the car door and they both slide out. They stand at her car, just like they usually did outside his house. However this time is quite different from most.

They sigh heavily, in unison. The winter air is cold in London. She shivers slightly and knows she can’t stay in his presence much longer.

“Merry Christmas, H.”

He leans down and places one last sweet kiss to her lips. She wrinkles her nose and smiles unabashedly.

“Merry Christmas, Darling.”

Harry and her don’t talk as much while she’s back home for the holidays. There’s no work to be discussed and while they parted on not necessarily bad terms, there was definitely a conversation that needed to be had between the two. Neither seemed to want to have that conversation over the phone, or worse, text. So for the next week and a half, Harry and Y/N exchanged texts of funny memes that reminded them of each other and odd anecdotes from family members that had made them laugh. Nothing really substantial, just small, I was thinking of you messages.

When she walked out of the luggage carousel at London Heathrow Airport, she expected to be getting in the queue for an uber. Instead, before she could cross the street to get to the queue even, a tall man stopped her. A tall, scruffy, extremely buff, extremely handsome, and extremely kissable man. Harry. It would be terribly strange if it was anyone else.

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need a lift back to your flat?” His dark sunglasses cover his face and a big coat, scarf, and hat make him hardly recognizable. The curls sticking out from beneath the cute knit scarf are thankfully a dead give away for her. As well as his perfect drawling voice.

She shivered in the cold, her matching grey sweatpants and Treat People With Kindness sweatshirt had been warm enough on the flight, but proved inadequate for almost January in London. Yet, Harry’s presence brings a smile to her face.

“It’s good to see you, H.”

He laughs, his cover obviously blown. His arms encircle her body and she instantly melts into his embrace. His large coat easily fell around her and warmed her. His own natural body heat adds to her new found warmth as well.

“You too,” he murmured. His head buries into the crook of her neck, warming her cold skin.

He pulls back after a rather long embrace, realizing they’re still out on the sidewalk. He takes one step back and she visibly deflates at his absence, the cold once again surrounding her.

“Let’s get you home,” he grabs at the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other. The warmth returns and she grins, placated by his touch.

“So are you coming to my party tonight?” He inquires once he settles into the driver’s seat after putting her suitcase in the back.

She shifts in her seat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, still cold without any warmth from Harry or the car. “Don’t you suppose there was a reason why I chose to come home today?”

Harry’s ears perk at the use of home, never assuming Y/N viewed London as her home, still it made him smile.

As the car purrs to life, heat immediately seeping out of the seats and vents, Harry’s phone connects as well. NFWMB by Hozier begins to play softly and she glances at Harry again. The song was so sultry and soft, like expensive dark chocolate melting on your tongue. The mood in the car seemed to shift. Their eyes met, Harry’s green ones narrowing at her, trying to decipher the look she was giving to him.

Then he drove off, softly singing along to the words through the sleepy streets. It was surprisingly quiet out for the holidays, people choosing to lay low during the day so they could celebrate the changing of decades in full force tonight.

After the song ends, his eyes travel over to her again and she’s already looking at him. She had missed his face. Sure, he’d sent some silly selfies while she was gone. Mostly on Christmas Eve with his family when he had gotten drunk on mulled wine and eggnog and brandy. Still, in person, he was even more beautiful. The high cheek bones that glistened with a shine most makeup could only hope to produce. Full raspberry lips with stubble growing to frame above and below. The crinkles growing on his forehead and by his eyes that showed him aging with grace. The precious few moles that had gotten lucky enough to live on his face forever. His big green eyes that were consistently bright with interest and intellect, but deep and knowing despite his loving demeanor. She loved those big green eyes, they were just so big and she didn’t understand how no one took the same interest in them as her. All of it, just sitting there beside her. Don’t even get her started on the soul that inhabited the beautiful man beside her. She never would stop spiraling then.

“What?” He asks softly, the sounds of Paul McCartney during some era fading in.

She blinks, hazily in admirance, “Nothing,” she replies.

“What?” He insists, laughing slightly, the lips she loves so much widening in excitement.

“Just missed you.”

Her voice is quiet but strong, serious. A blush creeps up his neck, taking hold of his features.

“Missed you too,” his left hand reaches across the console to take hold of her hand that resided on her thigh. He squeezes her hand softly and they both smile at each other again.

“Don’t worry, I can get my stuff upstairs. I don’t want you being out in the cold any longer than you have to. I’ll see you tonight, H!” She pushes her body across the console and places a kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car. Harry makes a half smile, knowing he can’t change her mind. He waves to her behind the window as she travels into her building.

“See you.” He says to himself before driving back to his home to finish up preparing for tonight’s festivities. The party was going to be more intimate than the Christmas party at the restaurant. Tonight was just Harry’s family and closest friend - the band, Jeff and his family, Y/N, and a few others.

The whole night Harry and Y/N are within a foot of each other, if not on top of each other. He never leaves her side nor does she his. They are tethered to one another. The longest they’re apart is when Harry gets them refills of Champagne and Y/N journeys to the restroom. They laugh and catch up.

As the night goes on, Harry begins to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she giggles and places her hand on his chest flirtily. Their interaction is a dance, bedroom eyes and low voices, lingering touches and suggestive lip bites.

When the countdown begins to grow closer, everyone refills their drinks and gathers in the center of Harry’s living room. They cheer and countdown to 2020. And of course, Y/N’s by Harry’s side as he begins the count. And when they get to ‘one’ and everyone’s saying “Happy New Year”, Harry and her are sharing a chaste peck to the lips that electrifies everything they had been saying to each other all night. She sighs into his mouth, but pulls away quickly, aware of their surroundings. No one particularly questions the kiss, either not paying attention or caring. Harry beams down at her and they enjoy the rest of the evening.

At around 1 am, the last of the guests stumble out of Harry’s homes and into waiting ubers and safe rides. Y/N lingers back, beginning to clean the discarded glassware and paper plates. Her and Harry are definitely tipsy, but they enjoy the cleaning work, making terrible jokes about New Year’s and commenting on what people wore tonight. When it’s relatively cleaned in the kitchen, Y/N wanders out to the living room and finds Harry reclined back on the couch.

“H,” She sticks out her foot and nudges him with her boot.

“C’mere,” he reaches out his hand to her, his coat discarded, leaving his arms bare with only a white tank top on.

She takes his hand hesitantly and is yanked on top of Harry in an instant. With a loud huff, she settles above him. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Shush,” his pointer finger goes over her lips, her eyes narrow at him, “Can you believe we’re seeing 2020?”

“Oh my god! I hate you!” She rolls her eyes at his pun and shakes herself from his hand around her waist. She stands up to walk away but he easily grasps her wrist and stops her, easily sitting himself up on the couch.

He looks at her and her annoyance, that wasn’t all too strong in the first place, dissipates. She sighs, “I should probably be heading home.”

“You should stay, it’s so late,” his hand rubbing over the skin on her wrist.

She bites her lip, contemplating the offer, he was right. “I’m really tired and we haven’t really talked, H.”

“But we-”

“Not about us. We’ve been skirting around it, flirting with each other all night, but we haven’t talked about what’s going on. I can’t stay if you expect something from me.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. That’s not why I want you to say,” Harry says earnestly, realizing quickly what she’s saying. “I’ve never expected anything from you. An offer to stay is just an offer to stay.”

“Okay,” she finally smiles and sits down beside Harry.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, too. If that makes you more comfortable?”

“Oh...I don’t know if we have to take it that far. Plus, you’re like a personal heater and I get cold at night.”

Harry perks up, he had been feeling resigned that maybe she wasn't on the same page as him. He wanted to be with her all the time but also didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She just made him so happy.

“Great! Let’s get to bed then.” He pops up from the couch and brings her into his arms, “You know where all my clothes are, so you can just borrow whatever you want, and then I’m sure I have extra toothbrushes…”

She giggles into his side as she watches him ramble animatedly. Sometimes he was oh so bright, so joyful and carefree. A stark contrast from the quiet confidence he often exhibited for the public.

She woke up in the warm embrace of Harry. His whole bed smelled like him, vanilla mixed with spices of tobacco and sandalwood. It was delicious and she snuggled in deeper to the soft chest she laid against, breathing in his scent deeply.

They rested there for a long time. Harry makes his awakening known with a lingering kiss to her forehead. They both sigh in contentment, radiant in each other’s arms.

“What’s the plan today?” She ponders as Harry’s fingers trace patterns over her skin. He hums in thought.

“Wanna be with you…”

She laughs and looks up at him, “Me too, but we can’t lay around all day.”

“Well, we could.” Harry insists.

She laughs again and twists in his arms, settling so she’s facing him. She bites her lip as she thinks about something, scanning his face over and over.

“I’m gonna go home and get ready for the day. Let’s just explore the city and do some 2020 shopping. Who knows, maybe fashion’s changed since the last decade,” she grins.

Harry chuckles a little and pets at her hair, “I like the sound of that. And we can talk - about us.”

“Mmhmm.”

He tilts his head forward and meets her lips once again, savoring her taste. Each kiss makes him want more. She was good.

Harry lugs in the four heavy shopping bags into her flat, as she carries the single small bag from the chocolatier he had dragged them into. He presses her to the counter when he sets down the bags and begins to kiss her face all over. She giggles and places her hands on his shoulders, giving him a kiss to the lips before pulling away.

They had talked about what they wanted, what they saw in each other and how that fit into their work relationship and the rest of their lives. Harry would have to talk to Jeff, but more so as a by the way this is what I’m doing with my life, not an ask for permission. Y/N would continue as his stylist until the end of the tour cycle, but afterwards she’d go back to freelancing. They wanted to try to date and be as normal as possible. She told him how she didn’t love the fame or the celebrities. Sure she dealt with those things for work, but when they were off duty, she wanted to be regular. She wanted to go out on dates and make dinner on weekend nights. Harry had agreed, he wanted those things too and he understood her wish to keep work and their relationship separate. However, he’d made her concede to allowing kisses during work hours. She had laughed and said it was an easy term to agree to.

It was going to be a good thing. They were both giddy with excitement, the new year, and all the new things they had bought on their relationship high.

“Oh!” She pushed Harry further away from her and hurried into her room. He laughed and looked confusedly after her. “Wait there!” She called. Harry leaned against the back of her upholstered chair.

“Close your eyes!” She says before coming back into the room. Harry’s hands go over his eyes easily as he grins blindly in her direction.

“‘M waiting…”

“Open.”

Harry’s hands slip away and his green eyes blink open. In front of him stands Y/N holding up a hand knit brown sweater vest with horizontal red, cream and blue thin stripes along with the thicker brown stripes. Harry beams, reaching his hands out to take hold of it.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I found it at this vintage place while I was home and I couldn’t wait any longer to show it to you.”

“Darling, this is gorgeous. I love it! But you shouldn’t have...”

“I thought you could wear it for Lizzo’s concert. I know you said you liked the other sweater vest, but this one is so-”

“You spoil me, seriously.” He cuts her off and laughs before pulling her back into him. Their lips collide in a searing kiss, Harry’s excitement over the new garment making him eager to show her how much he really loved it.

A small sigh escapes her lips as Harry presses into her. His tongue pushing into her mouth in a way that turns the sigh into a moan.

“Let me show you just how much I love it,” He murmurs against her lips, casting the garment onto the back of the chair he had previously been leaning on.

She smiles, eyes fluttering open and meeting his with adoration swelling in their depths. Then she allows him to back their intertwined bodies into her room.

Some apartment in New York a few months later:

“I knew it!”

“Huh?” Aidy lifts her head from the skit she was working on to look at her friend and coworker.

“That stylist...for Harry Styles,” Heidi shifts, sitting up and turning her phone to face Aidy, “She was seen out with him, getting lunch in London and then making out on a street corner. I bet they were dating back in November when he was on the show!”

Aidy laughs, thinking back to her conversation with the stylist that night of Harry’s show. The girl had been so in love that night and Harry had been smitten all week, describing her in the best way, praising her every decision, yearning for her even. And now they were actually together...she was happy for them.

“I don’t know about that...but they were head over Gucci heels for each other that’s for sure.”

Heidi and her scroll through the pictures on social media of the singer and his girlfriend.

“They probably are the best dressed couple I have ever seen,” Heidi grumbles.

“Now that is definitely accurate.”

taglist: @meredithhuntt @sovereigndeadlyperfect @marauderswhisperer @toribentleyva @girlboss99 @harryssunflxwer @loverofaccents @stephaniemalvie @mk15x @beanholland @stfxlou @loliismutt @pinkisawesome101 @stilljosiegrossie @kikisparadise18 @clementimee

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harrys stylist right?#harry styles x y/n

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banditthewriter · 3 years

Text

Hands On Healing - King Caspian

Prompt: Could I request something a little smutty/slightly steamy for Caspian where he’s been stressed or recovering from an injury and his lover makes him lay down and gives him a massage to help him relax. But cuz this man can’t hold anything in for the life of him he keeps moaning and s/o gets hella distracted by it. Eventually they get turned on enough they decide to help him relax by climbing on top of him & they get steamy. Hope this is okay, I love your writing! Prompter: Anonymous

I almost called this Sexual Healing but I did not! Just know that that’s what I titled the document where I wrote it hah.

Warning: Smut! Unprotected sex.

[[ko-fi]]

Enjoy!

*gif is mine*

*****

The door creaked open and drew your eyes from where you were reading. Caspian came in with a grimace on his face. He leaned against the closed door and took a deep breath before he pushed off from it.

“You overdid it, didn’t you?”

He glanced up at you guiltily.

“I thought you were going to be in the library this afternoon.”

“I was,” you said as you stood up, placing your book down on the chair you had just vacated. “Since it’s nearly nightfall, I thought it would be nice to return to our bedroom where I expected to see you still resting.”

Caspian groaned as he raised his arms to try to remove his jacket but you waved his hands away. When you moved to stand in front of him, he gave you an exaggerated pout that made you roll your eyes.

“I lost track of time while sparring, that’s all,” he said through another groan as he lowered his arms once more.

“A horse fell on you mid-battle, my love. You’re lucky nothing was ruptured, just bruised.”

His pout fell away and left him with just a pain filled look. You sighed as you undid the buttons and laces on his jacket and shirt. First you pushed the jacket off before you went about untucking his shirt from his trousers.

“I should have someone run you a hot bath,” you said quietly as you revealed the bruises still on his back and sides. “I hate that you’re in pain, even if it’s of your own making.”

You helped him raise the shirt over his head, careful to do it in a way not to make the pain worse. Then you gently led him to sit on the edge of the bed so you could bend down and take his boots off.

“Mm, I think I’m feeling better already,” he said as you knelt down in front of him.

Heat rose to your cheeks but you didn’t rise to the taunt. Instead you unlaced and removed his right boot, then his left. Next came his socks.

“Trousers too. You’re covered in sweat and everything needs to go to the laundress.”

Caspian stood back up slowly before he undid the laces on his trousers. Once they were down with his underclothes as well, he was well and fully naked in front of you. You gathered his dirty clothes and walked them to the little inlet bathroom where you placed everything for the laundress to get in the morning.

Next you placed a cloth in one of the bowls of water on the bureau before you went back to where Caspian had laid down on the bed.

“Cold,” you warned before you pressed it against his chest.

“Very,” he stuttered as goosebumps followed the path of the cloth.

You wiped down his chest and arms, down to his hips. Even with the cold cloth, the length of his cock twitched in interest. You rolled your eyes as you wiped down his legs.

“You need to rest,” you said with a pointed look at his groin.

He smiled and held a hand out to you.

“What can I say? I love you to the point where I am distracted from the pain.”

You rolled your eyes again and motioned for him to roll over. He did so slowly. Once he was on his stomach, you wiped down his back and the backs of his legs.

“Stay there,” you said before you wandered back towards the bathing room.

There were some massage oils that hadn’t been used in a while. You took a few sniffs from them until you found one that was calming. That and some more rags you carried back to the bed. Once there you lifted the hem of your dressing gown and climbed into the bed as well. You draped a towel over his naked backend with a gentle tap to one cheek.

“For your modesty,” you joked. Then, more seriously, “I’m going to give you a massage. The medic said it would help your muscles.”

Caspian made a hum of acknowledgement and you smiled. He was in pain and most likely already getting drowsy. You’d massage him for a bit until he fell asleep. Tomorrow you’d make sure he wouldn’t run off and do something else stupid so that he could fully heal.

A little of the oil went into your palms. You rubbed your hands together a few times to smear the oil before you placed them on his back. He shivered a bit at first, but you could actually feel the tension go out of him as you started to work at his upper back and shoulders.

There were plenty of knots to work on. You leaned so that you could use your weight to really work on the tough spots. He moved slowly so that he could raise his arms up next to his head which changed the position of his muscles, but you didn’t mind.

Had you noticed how muscled his back was? Surely you would have noticed that at some point? Perhaps he had gained more muscles lately? Before the battle, that is.

Not that he had withered way in the days since the battle. He was still in good form.

You cleared your throat and moved down a little further on his back. The moment your hands went to his lower back, you heard a loud noise come from Caspian.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No my love,” he responded with a thick, gravelly voice. “Your hands are heavenly. Please, continue?”

After a moment of being unsure, you started again. There was no noise this time, just Caspian shifting a bit. You were worried you had hurt him, but he turned his head so that he was facing where you were sitting. His face was at ease.

Well, his mouth was open a sliver and there were lines between his eyebrows as if they were on the verge of being furrowed, but he didn’t look like he was in pain.

You shifted a bit more so that you could continue. Every now and then he’d make another little noise, softer than the one that had worried you. These were like sighs, happy and content.

Your second pass at his lower back had him make another louder noise, not a sigh but not a groan of pain. In fact, it was a very familiar noise.

“Caspian?”

“Hmm? Yes?” He opened his eyes and blinked a few times at you. At your narrowed look, he gave you a small smile. “Magic hands, you have.”

Not that you trusted him one bit. You moved down to grab his thigh to begin work there, but Caspian’s hand darted down faster than you expected and grabbed your wrist.

“Perhaps you will work on my chest and arms? They are still a bit...stiff.”

You pulled back and nodded.

“Of course. Do you need help rolling over?”

He smiled at you beautifully. Then, with his usual level of grace, he rolled over onto his back. The towel you had draped over his backside rolled with him so you were given full view of what was on his mind.

In the way that his cock was standing straight up on his belly, red and hard. His hips thrusted a bit as if he could physically feel your gaze.

“My love? Weren’t you going to rub me?”

You blinked a few times before you tore your gaze from his cock and back to his face. He was grinning at you.

“You are a pain,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Then you reached over for the oil once more. “I will rub your arms and chest, but nothing else.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state.”

You uncorked the bottle with a little more force than necessary. After it was in your hands, you put the bottle back on the nightstand. Then you put your hands on his chest and started to work.

Caspian’s gaze never left your face as you worked on his chest and shoulders. You tried to focus on what you were doing and not what was happening below his abdomen, but you could see the gentle thrusts from the corner of your eye. He was enjoying this quite a lot it seemed.

You switched to his arm closest to you, rubbing first the shoulder and then down the bicep. He lifted his arm to give you more room and you focused on the way your hands looked as they rubbed and massaged him.

“Next one?”

You blinked. Then you looked at Caspian. He was grinning as he looked over at his other shoulder.

“Don’t want it to feel neglected, do you?”

With a mindless shake of your head, you reached over for his other shoulder. The angle was all wrong but you would have to get up and cross over to the other side of the bed to reach it. You huffed and moved so that you were on your knees next to his side to try to reach his other side.

He rolled his hips again but this time it had the advantage of being right beside you. You felt the drag of his side against your thigh and hip, the dressing gown and thin nightgown under it no protection from the heat of his body. You clenched your teeth as you started to rub at his arm.

The problem was that you were perched fairly precariously at Caspian’s side, your hands focused on his shoulder and therefore not able to distribute your weight. So when he rolled, there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from being dragged over his body and then under him.

“Caspian! You’re injured!”

He smiled at you as he settled between your thighs, a gentle thrust against you enough to make you gasp and swallow your tongue.

“Not too injured to enjoy this,” he teased as he leaned in for a kiss.

You sighed in acceptance as his mouth touched yours. Then you sighed in pleasure as his body moved on top of yours, his cock rubbing between your legs through your nightgown. With so few layers that separated the two of you, you were ready to rip them off.

The only thing that stopped you was Caspian’s hiss of pain as he rotated his hips again.

“Caspian, please,” you begged as you pressed against his shoulder. “You’re in pain right now.”

He rolled over onto his back and threw an arm over his face. His body was still ready though.

You leaned on one shoulder as you looked him over. It was obvious that he wanted you, needed you. To ignore the pain in his body for so long because he wanted to make love with you.

Well. You weren’t heartless.

Quickly you moved and pulled off your dressing gown. Then you tugged off your nightgown as well. Both went straight to the floor on the other side of the bed.

The movement made Caspian lower his arm just enough to see what you were doing. Once he did, his arms went down so that he could lift his upper body up a bit.

“What are you–”

“Shh, like this my love,” you said as you climbed on top of him.

You leaned up and over him to grab the oil. It put your breast right in line with his mouth and he eagerly sucked on a nipple until you pulled back again. You poured some of the oil into your hand and returned the bottle so that it wouldn’t fall.

Then you reached between the two of you and grasped your hand around his hard cock. His hips jerked up at the touch, his mouth open as he panted out in pleasure. You smiled as you worked him, the oil slippery over him. It helped with the glide, created friction against him.

As he started to squirm under him, you pressed a hand low against his stomach. It took you raising up on your knees for him to realize what you were doing and he helped you guide his cock to your entrance. When you lowered yourself down onto him, he let out a hiss and arched his back.

“No, don’t move,” you said as you pressed a kiss to the bruise on his shoulder and collarbone. “Let me do the work for you.”

His eyebrows furrowed until you showed him exactly what you meant. First you raised up, your thighs flexing as you did. Then you sat down hard on him, his cock thrusting upwards into you as you clenched around him. Up once more, then down in a rush.

Over and over you moved on top of him, your thighs aching as you worked his cock with your body. His hands went to your thighs, up higher to your stomach and then your breasts. He touched everywhere he could while you rode him, both of you desperate as your pleasures rose.

Your climax came in a wave. His hand went to your shoulder and pulled you down so that he could kiss you as you gasped and writhed on top of him. You squeezed around his cock as you rolled your hips, clenching and releasing until you could feel his cock twitch and spill inside of you.

“So good for me,” he whispered against your lips as he slumped down on the bed. “But next time I want to take care of you.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss against his lips and then his jaw.

“Right now you aren’t up for our normal bed activities. This wasn’t a poor substitute though, was it? You enjoyed it?”

His dark eyes were on your face, hunger still evident in his face. And in the fact that you could tell he was still mostly hard inside of you.

“I did, but I want more. My body might not be ready for more, but my mouth very much is. You are the creative mind in this relationship. Surely you can imagine a way for me to utilize that particular asset for your pleasure.”

You had a flash in your mind of just that. Your legs spread over his face while you swallowed around his cock at the same time.

You clenched around him at the thought and he moaned, the same noise from when you first started the massage.

Heavenly, indeed. You couldn’t wait until he was ready for more.

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List! @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @hxbbit @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @holamor @lea----b @coffeenmoscato @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @sergeantbuchanans @iwishyoucouldbekissed @taman-a @newtstarmander @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @arrowswithwifi @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @celestegolden @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @also-fangirlinsweden @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @christinawxxx @rhabakoli @j-finco @sweetybuzz25 @supernaturalonice @jeanettexkillian @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @polireader @witchygagirl @carlaangel86 @listenbigfoot @hiddleless @meganlpie @arsaky-lou @angelic-kisses13 @countryday @random-quartz @peaceinourtime82 @supernaturaldean67 @mariaenchanted @pinkisokay @veracruz-djarin @blackbirddaredevil23 @rexorangecouny @nowyouseeme098

#caspian #caspian x reader #caspian imagine #caspian fanfic #my writing #request

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themadearl · 3 years

Text

Soulmate AU edition

Soulmate AUs where pretty strong back in the day huh

also, i wrote this in a sitting and it’s janky

Note: In this AU, people have the names of their soulmate on a part of their body. And Yuu x Leech twins. Also, along with the yandere tag, a warning for dubious consent activities with drugging.

__________________________________________________

Soulmate marks where a common thing in twisted wonderland

Legends said that the marks where a byproduct of a magic so powerful that it affected the world

It’s hard to say whether it was a blessing or a curse

As when there were people overjoyed for the existence of their perfect partner, there are those that despair when their other half passes before they even meet

Soul marks appears on your skin when your other half is born or appears the moment they are born if their other half already appeared before them

It is written in the handwriting of your other half

And there’s also different colors and shades to it

Normally, everyone usually gets a soul mark before they reach five

Those that receive their marks after ten are rare

Receiving marks after fifteen are almost unheard of

After that, there only seems to be the possibility that there is no soulmate for them, which happened on a extremely rare basis

That’s why for Floyd & Jade to receive their mark when they were 17 was as if the Great Seven had appeared in front of them

Shocking

They had hopes when they were younger

Thinking that one day, any day, a mark was going to show up

They started from checking daily, to every few days, to weeks

Until they almost forgot about it until one of their classmates showed off his newly gotten soulmark

It wasn’t the first time Floyd lashed out when his soulmark still didn’t appear

But it wasn’t on the magnitude of Floyd pummeling another boy into the ground

Jade didn’t felt like stopping Floyd as well

And no one would really notice if he stepped on the boy’s hand or threw in a few kicks right?

Both of them promptly received a stern lecture from the headmaster and had their parents called to the school which lead to another whacking from their dad

After that, no one really brought up anything about soulmates in front of them

Leaving only fleeting thoughts of soul marks and whether they really had a soulmate

Days go by and the twins find a new friend to hang with

A little octopus with no soulmark, just like them

Time flies like an arrow and the trio have entered their second year in Night Raven College

It was to be a same old day with the same old ceremony at the same old venue

Which is pretty boring by Floyd’s standards

Until a prickly sensation started to appear around his wrist

Which was totally not normal

Floyd strolls into an empty classroom just to see what the deal was

And lo and behold, neat little characters with a dark blue grey color circles his wrist

The name spells out to be “Mayura Yuu”

There’s a sense of happiness that screams within his heart that he has a soulmate, that there is someone there for him

But the years of disappointment really gripes at him and it makes him want to lash out at his soulmate in spite

Before Floyd really has the chance to sort his thoughts, Jade barges in with his clothes messy and untucked

Jade pulls up his shirt to reveal the same mark as the one circling Floyd’s wrist

Which Floyd shoves into the face of Jade

And both of them can only stare at each other while trying to comprehend the massive bomb fate dropped on them

Until the flames that appeared caused them to snap out of thought

Anyway

Just like everyone else, the twins heard news of the ‘special prefect from another world’

But thought of nothing much

Till the faithful day where Yuu signs her name on Azul’s contract to save Adeuce and Grim’s sorry ass

After Yuu and Jack leaves, Azul notices Jade slight pause at seeing Yuu’s signature

“What’s wrong?”

The only reply Azul gets is a brief smile as Jade leaves to attend some more ‘private’ business

At first the twins have thought that there was a large age gap between them and their soulmate thus, making it so long before their mark appeared

But the appearance of someone with the same name and handwriting along with the rumor of being from another world

Really begs the question of their mark only appearing as Yuu wasn’t originally from this world

Besides, the name of “Mayura Yuu” wasn’t one they have seen before

The only way to really find out is to check if Yuu has the same marking as they did

As such, the twins devised a plan to find the truth they seek so much

Which is a simple plan really, place a portion of sleeping potion into her drink and search for marks

Jade invites Yuu to a free meal at Mostro Lounge after she helps to return a book Jade purposely left behind in front of Yuu

Such smart much wow

Yuu is unable to turn down Jade’s passionate and slightly aggressive invitation and agrees to show up

Looking back to this days, Yuu regrets everything

Like how she should’ve just left the goddarn book

Like how she should’ve not go to Mostro Lounge

There have been signs, SIGNS that should’ve stopped her

But nooo, Yuu’s too nice for her own good and no good deed is ever unpunished

The meal was nice and there was a nice fruit drink along with it

Yuu noticed something was off too late as her body gets more and more tired

She last sees two pairs of heterochromatic staring back at her and her vision fades

#twisted wonderland #soulmate au #tfw you cant sleep cause you thinking about this #Jade Leech #floyd leech #female prefect yuu #azul ashengrotto #the last name isn't canon or anything just a placeholder name for the moment #a cliffhanger #this was originally to be a one part but i wrote too much so i'll split it #or maybe it's more a prologue to the actual fun stuff i want to write

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foli-vora · 3 years

Note

Congrats on the followers! Could I request a fluffy #41 with Marcus Pike and f!reader? ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you angel ❤️ I hope you enjoy!

#41—sitting close and knees touching

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: none

“This guy is driving me mad.” You sigh, slapping the manila folder down and rubbing the pinch of strain from your eyes. The coffee you had downed after deciding to stay at the office late had lone worn off, and exhaustion melts into your mind, causing your body to slacken in your desk chair.

“You’re telling me.” Marcus grumbles opposite you, mirroring your actions and frowning at the mess of papers you both had spread across the table. Hours upon hours of work and nothing. No leads, no suspects, no evidence—nothing to go on, apart from a few missing paintings. It was driving him insane. There has to be something.

He shakes the irritation from his mind and stands, fixing where his shirt had come untucked from his pants and smoothing down his errant tie. “I’m gonna order some food — you want anything?”

“Mmm.” You hum lowly, spinning leisurely in your chair as you let your head hang back. “Surprise me.”

He chuckles with a nod, slipping away with his cell tucked between his ear and shoulder. You watch him disappear, sighing as you try to temper down the stirrings of your stupid little crush.

You could hardly help it—he was a great guy. Kind, sweet, hard working and incredibly dedicated. You had felt the sting of attraction the second he had introduced himself with a firm hand around yours and a gentle shake... the rest was history. Marcus had never given any clues to his returning of your attentions, and so you left it, content with being friends and fighting the flare of feelings whenever he would smile at you.

“Dinner is served, ma’am.”

You eyes snap open and you jolt in your chair, cheeks warming at the quiet laugh at your expense.

“I didn’t take that long, did I?”

He’s grinning when you turn to him, and it’s impossible not to return it. You stretch as you stand, bumping his shoulder fondly as you step next to him.

“Snails move quicker than you, Pike.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll remember that next time you need a hand.” He quips in return, playfully shoving you back as he leads you to the conference room and you stop short, snorting at the scene.

“Jesus Marcus. Did you order the entire menu?” Dozens of takeaway boxes are spread across the glossy table, small piles of napkins dotted throughout and two paper plates set out and ready. He laughs, coaxing you into the room and into a chair.

“Yep—surprise.”

“Dork.”

He takes the chair on your left and smiles as he patiently hands you the variety of boxes, letting you dish food onto your plate before taking care of his own, and the room falls into a comfortable silence as you start to eat.

The first time it happens, it seems to be accidental. Your knee hits his softly beneath the table and you quickly apologise around a mouth of food, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable or get the wrong idea. He shrugs it off.

The second time, it’s him. He shifts in his seat, knee knocking into yours, and even though he apologises, you get the feeling he doesn’t mean it, not with the way he looks at you. You study the food on your plate and listen as he talks about a documentary he watched a few nights ago, eyes briefly flicking up to watch him from beneath your lashes.

It’s experimental, when you shift ever so slightly closer, letting your knee rest gently against his. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t give any indication that he’s bothered. In fact, he stutters a little, the jump in his voice so noticeable to your ears.

Your mind whirls, heart becoming increasingly unsteady in your chest when you catch the imperceptible movement of him sliding closer.

He clears his throat quietly, “Thank you... for staying behind with me. It’s nice to not be here alone.”

Go for it. Just do it. Take the jump. Do it. Before you mess it up and choke on rice, do it—

“It’s okay. I uh... I like spending time with you, Marcus.”

The words are quiet, unsure and full of vulnerability, and it has him seeing stars. Surely you didn’t feel the same? He had been crushing on you for months, but there had never been any signs you could like him back. Had he missed something? Right now wasn’t the time to think over it. You had put yourself out there, and he was making you doubt yourself with how he’s staying so quiet. Idiot. Speak up, before it’s too late—

“I like spending time with you, too.”

Your eyes meet his in surprise and you smile shyly, enjoying the way a soft flush of pink grows along his throat and warms his cheeks.

“Could we... could we do this again sometime? Preferably outside of work.”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished, and he beams brightly at you.

“I’d like that.” You say quietly, unable to drop the smile from your face when he grins, heart racing as he very deliberately slides closer, letting your knees rest softly against his thigh as he returns to his food. You follow his lead, something close to a scream of excitement building and catching in your throat—that could wait until you were in the privacy of your own car.

1kcelebration—send a request! ❤️

#foli’s 1k #Marcus pike x f!reader #Marcus pike x reader #Marcus pike #Pedro pascal x reader

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we’ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble.

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile.

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.”

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.”

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes.

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome.

“Really?”

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?”

“My hat? My scarf?”

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile.

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.”

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh.

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples.

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently -

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.”

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well.

It’s the little things.

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears.

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery.

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well.

“It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding.

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs.

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything.

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not.

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension.

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone.

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence.

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks.

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect.

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.”

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature.

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested.

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years.

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?”

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.”

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.”

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene.

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.”

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled.

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn.

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you.

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?”

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?”

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.”

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean.

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.”

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later.

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on.

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts.

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.”

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you.

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.”

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again.

“What?”

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.”

“Oh, Aaron -”

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway.

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.”

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.”

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.”

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary.

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron.

“Hit your limit yet?”

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.”

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time.

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?”

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others.

I love you.

“Me too.”

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes.

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.”

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it.

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar.

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake.

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt.

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night.

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.”

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired.

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint.

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands.

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.”

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.”

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation.

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away.

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -”

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months.

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar.

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good.

If he got those last night…

Wait.

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God.

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug.

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs.

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts.

“Just spill it.”

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial.

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do.

“Emily knows.”

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.”

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle.

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call.

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy.

He knows.

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.”

So, he does.

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family.

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss.

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear.

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you.

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert.

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes.

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before.

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile.

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like.

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed.

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking.

“Hotch?”

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes.

“I’m really happy for you.”

His lips twitch. “Thanks.”

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow.

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close.

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe.

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home.

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.”

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks.

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?”

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along.

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in.

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch.

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily.

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t.

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces.

+++

tagging: @quillvine @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future

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fluri-above-all · 3 years

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ToV Rarepair Drabble - Scars

One of the oneshot prompts I've seen lately was about scars. And I've been wanting to write Harry x Ioder again ever since @nagia36 brought up one of my old drabbles...Harry doesn't really get the attention he deserves so I wrote this to make it up to him.

Warning for suggestive themes.

Scars

Harry’s body held scars.

The first was across the bridge of his nose and honestly…he couldn’t remember how it happened. Yeager had told him once it was from crying so much while he was a baby that the tears created the cut turned scar as they fell. This had prompted further crying from the very young blonde.

His grandfather later pat him on the head (and whacked Yeager upside his) and proceeded to tell him even he did not know how Harry got it. When Garry's family was driven out of their hometown, he’d reunited with Harry and his mother and the mark had already marred his unconscious face. His mother had had a mental breakdown and disappeared one night, taking the secret with her. With his memories of that day unknown and lost to him, Harry eventually came to simply accept the scar as one of the earliest parts of himself. It was his “favorite” if he had to pick one.

There were also scars that were not his favorite. They adorned his back, parts of his chest and even the side of his neck. These were from skirmishes, battles and attacks on his life. The ones on his chest weren’t visible with his clothes on, even with his shirt barely covering his torso. The scar on his neck was small, from a younger part of his life when someone had foolishly tried to take him hostage. Their plan would have worked, had they not nicked Harry in the neck and set the guilds into frenzy. It was one of the few times he had ever seen his grandfather look truly angry, “seeing red” is what he’d later come to recognize it as.

Since that day no one has tried to kidnap or capture the young man. That incident was probably why….

It could also be from the size Harry had grown during his years of rebuilding himself as well...but he liked to think the terrors of Altosk had spooked his assailants away.

One of the scars on his back was up by his shoulder, where the tusk of a large monster had snagged him from behind and pinned him to the ground. Harry winces even now just thinking about that particular instance.

The oddest scar of all – In Harry’s opinion anyway – was on his ankle. A blood-thirsty group of bandits had attempted – very poorly – to attack the still inexperienced Don on his trip through the desert. One of the bandits speared him in the ankle with a harpoon gun, the retraction dragged Harry several feet before Raven and the other members of Altosk dispatched the group. When the weather gets cold, he can feel the irritation in his foot from the long scarred over wound. It was his “least favorite” if he had to pick.

Still, the young Don of 23 years took pride in his scars. They were symbols depicting an exciting (and often dangerous) life, proof that through all he had endured, he was strong. And more importantly, he was still here. He'd been stabbed in the back, attacked head on, pulled against his will, and yet, he was still standing tall.

Harry had never been particularly close with death; none of the wounds engraved on his body were life-threatening. If anything, people would say he had Lady Luck on his side. He'd scoff at that, being a man who believed in carving his own path and not fate…

Still...

That didn’t mean he was itching to meet his maker enough to test it. As reckless as he could be he had no desire to push the limits of his life. It was something precious that had been fought for and sacrificed his whole life. And through those scars, he knew they were signs that represented those who had lost their life for him…It meant their sacrifice was not in vain. He would continue to fight. No matter what it took.

It was his relentless and unwavering ability to never back down that made Ioder worry – he knew that.

The first time they had made love he’d hesitated to show himself to the other blonde. Harry wondered if the young Emperor would find him grotesque with his marred skin, a dark contrast to Ioder’s pale perfection. But Ioder said nothing about them, even kissed the one across his collarbone.

Harry didn’t want to admit it, but the tender intimacy made his pulse quicken and his body waver slightly.

Who knew a person’s bitter scars could elicit such a sweet reaction? Certainly not Harry. He didn’t think his body could ever be so sensitive to another’s touch, especially with his scars.

It was yet another surprise that kept Harry wrapped around the Emperor’s finger – contrary to everyone’s opinion of Ioder being swept away by Harry. It was another surprise and a secret Harry wanted to keep to himself.

But Ioder had ways of figuring him out.

And he was always so damn sneaky about it too...

The day was innocent enough (as always), Ioder was signing off paperwork at his desk and Harry was lying on the nearby couch. He'd come unannounced so Ioder had insisted Harry be patient and wait for him to finish. It was fairly hot outside, so even with the window open, save for the occasional breeze, it was almost unbearable.

Except Ioder appeared perfectly fine.

And for some reason, that irritated Harry. The Emperor wore considerably more when it came to his attire and not only that, the material was bulkier as well.

“Aren’t you hot?!” Harry cried out, unable to take the heat of the room any longer. Just looking at Ioder made him sweat. The sudden sound of Harry’s voice must have startled Ioder, because he had blinked several times in shocked confusion.

“Ah forget it, you’re not even paying attention are you…” Harry accused, knowing Ioder had a way of tuning everything out once ensconced in his work.

“Don’t apologize either.” He added as he saw the gears turning in Ioder’s head. The Emperor likely realized he was not being the best of hosts at the moment. Stretching his arms above his head, Harry elicited a yawn and removed his vest. With the dark garment discarded, he already felt immensely better.

And while he was at it, he might as well make himself comfortable. Untucking his shirt, Harry’s hands moved to pull the shirt over his head –

“What are you doing?” Ioder questioned - eyes wide as he regarded the young Don mid shirt removal.

“I’m taking my shirt off.” Harry answered simply. He opened his mouth to question if there was a problem but then he had to briefly consider where he was.

Oh that’s right…people are worried about propriety here….

He lifted the shirt up and off anyways, dropping it on the couch next to him.

“Harry!” Ioder scolded, face a light shade of pink as he tried not to stare too intently.

“It’s hot.” Harry regarded with a shrug. “Besides….” He turned his head to the side, a suggestive look on his face. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.” Harry withheld the smirk threatening to burst forth at the way Ioder’s cheeks flushed before he looked away. The young Don chuckled to himself, smug with this victory. Ioder went back to work once his face returned to a normal shade, but Harry wasn’t making things easy for him.

Perhaps it was a low blow, distracting Ioder the way he was with his bare torso.

And the young Emperor was certainly distracted. He stole the occasional glance as Harry sat back to lounge on the couch once more, the Don feeling quite relieved with his skin exposed. With all the sun he’d soaked up recently, his skin had tanned considerably, especially the front of his chest where he showed most of his muscled chest.

Now Harry wasn’t a narcissist, but he couldn’t help but admit it was a pretty damn good look on him. Catching Ioder staring out the corner of his eye was all the confirmation that he needed. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Ioder’s pen as he wrote, a contented bliss took over him at how comfortable things had become with a few simple garments removed.

In fact, he almost drifted off to sleep.

Almost.

The sound of Ioder’s chair shuffling back switched his brain back into alertness. Maybe he was taking a break? Ioder sometimes scooted the chair back to get more room to stretch.

However he didn’t hear the groan come as it normally did when Ioder did this. Instead, he felt the presence of the young Emperor much closer to him than before. Harry opened his eyes to see what Ioder was up to when the other blonde was actually right in front of him.

“Iod-“

Harry tried to sit up to ask what was wrong when Ioder pushed Harry’s shoulders back against the couch, the Emperor lifting his legs to straddle him.

“It’s not nice to tease.” Ioder scolded, but it lacked the disciplinary bite it usually did when he was reprimanding the young Don. Instead it held a hint of mischief, with no short amount of lust.

Harry had to admit – Ioder lasted much longer than he thought he would. The Don’s arms wrapped around Ioder’s waist, drawing the other man closer. “You know I have every intention of following through…” he answered, voice low and suggestive.

He stretched up to kiss Ioder but Ioder leaned down instead, placing a soft kiss on the tiny scar on the side of his neck, warm hands lightly tracing the sensitive flesh across his once injured collarbone and chest. The sudden physical contact elicited a moan Harry hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Pliant lips rested against the young Don’s ear, warm breath causing Harry to shutter as Ioder spoke.

“Not if I don’t let you.”

The tanned blonde raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Ioder – Mr. Pacifist – able to subdue someone twice his size? He’s seen Ioder talk down people much stronger than him, but Harry? Did he really think he had an edge over him that would keep him submissive?

Ioder seemed to sense Harry’s apprehension and Harry could almost feel the smirk coming from behind his calm expression. “I notice things about you too Harry.” He kissed along Harry’s jaw, sending sparks down the Don’s spine. “I’d noticed this a while ago but…” Ioder trailed off as he kissed down the other blonde’s neck. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, finding he didn’t much mind letting the young Emperor take the reins now and then.

“But?” Harry inquired, leaning his head back to allow Ioder better access.

Hands traveled down Harry’s sides to the dip of his hips, tracing gently over the scar along his hip bone. Harry’s eyes shot open as he bucked his waist up at Ioder’s touch, a soft gasp escaping his mouth.

“But you really like it when I touch your scars like that.”

If looks could kill….well…Harry could never kill Ioder, but he certainly wanted to upend him from his lap and wipe that smug expression off his face.

“I’ll touch them all you’d like later, so be patient and wait for me to finish my work so there won’t be any distractions. Okay?” Ioder asked, lips curled up in a sickeningly innocent smile. His actions betrayed that sweet smile however, as his fingers gently traced Harry’s chest.

“You say that…but you’re not stopping…” Harry pointed out.

Ioder’s smile turns into a bit of a smirk. “You don’t sound like you’re complaining….”

“Got nothing to complain about.” Harry smirks back, hands moving to Ioder’s waist. Before they can find purchase however, Ioder pulls back, sauntering off to his desk and leaving Harry slightly miffed.

He does take a small bit of satisfaction in the way Ioder squirms uncomfortably in his seat, face slightly flushed.

Good, he is affected by it…

Harry settles back onto the couch, heat long forgotten as he tries to calm down his hard-on.

How could he let such a weakness become apparent? And how could Ioder use it against him like that?

And why was he strangely alright with all of it?

Those would have to be answers for another time, but for now…

He settled for simply enjoying the way his scars buzzed from Ioder's lingering touch and the anticipation of things to come once Ioder finished his work.

#Harry x Ioder #Azali drabbles #Should have been sleeping but I really wanted to spoil Harry #Given all the crap he is dealing with in my separate universe #ToV Rarepair

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

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Quarantine Moments (14)

Soooooo this started as me vibing to a Halsey song and then it turned into angst. Oops. Sorry.

Also, in case you missed the announcement earlier this week, this is the last QM. I’ve had so much fun writing these, but it’s time to move on to new things. :)

*****

It’s a quiet night in the MacGyver household.

Mac lays on the couch, practicing the ukulele. Bozer and Riley are in their respective rooms, doing their own thing. As much as he loves them, Mac has to admit it’s nice having some alone time.

His fingers land on the wrong strings, and the resulting chord grates on his ears.

Progress is coming slowly, to say the least.

Riley shuffles into the kitchen and fills a glass of water for herself. Using her presence as an excuse to pause his increasingly frustrating playing, Mac studies Riley’s posture. Her shoulders cave inward, and she shifts her weight back and forth, from one leg to the other. When Riley turns around, Mac notices the heavy expression in her eyes.

Something is wrong.

They hold eye contact for a few seconds, saying nothing. It’s almost as if Riley is trying to convey her thoughts without actually speaking.

Mac wishes he could understand her. Usually he can. But this look...he can’t pinpoint what it means.

“C’mon,” Riley beckons. “Let’s go for a drive.”

Mac frowns, checking the time. “Now? It’s almost ten.”

“Let’s go,” she repeats. Crossing the distance to the couch, Riley lowers her voice. “Bozer needs some space. I accidentally walked in on him while he was on the phone.” The heavy look in her eyes suddenly makes sense.

“His mom?”

“Mac—” Riley lowers her gaze. “She’s...she’s not doing well.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, sitting up. Bozer’s mom is the closest thing Mac has to a mother. She certainly raised him like he was her own.

Riley squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll drive. Does your truck have gas? Mine’s almost out.”

Still thinking about Bozer’s mom, Mac almost doesn’t hear her. “Yeah,” he belatedly stutters. Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, steadying breaths, Mac pulls on a pair of sneakers and follows Riley out the door.

It feels good to leave the house.

Riley winds her way through the city streets, turning periodically but generally heading west. Mac’s beach playlist plays softly through the speakers. The roads are empty, which still shocks Mac even after two months of lockdown. Even late at night, there’s usually people on the road. The eerie stillness of his city is unnerving. It’s usually pulsing with life, not...whatever this is.

A ghost-town, perhaps. Haunted by the memory of the diverse, vibrant beings that once inhabited it.

“Did you hear anything else?” he asks, referring to Bozer’s phone call.

Regret flashes in Riley’s eyes. “No. I left as soon as I realized who he was talking to.”

After a few more turns, they’re in a part of town Mac isn’t familiar with, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Where are you taking me?” He knows the difference between Riley aimlessly driving and when she has a destination in mind, and this is definitely the latter.

“My spot.”

They end up at the beach.

Riley rolls down her window partway, and the smell of saltwater and seaweed wafts in on the gentle breeze. The lights of a ship glimmer in the distance; it’s big, maybe a cargo ship or an aircraft carrier.

There’s something soothing about being near the ocean, Mac thinks, like all his troubles will be washed out to sea with the receding tide.

There’s a lot he’d like to wash away.

Mac exhales with each wave's retreat, letting his thoughts and emotions go with it, one by one. After a few minutes, Mac feels lighter than he has in days. "Thanks for getting me out of the house," he says. "I know it wasn't your intention, but I needed this."

"You're welcome." Riley glances at him and looks away, biting her lip. Something flickers in her eyes, just for a second, but it’s gone before Mac can figure out what it is.

“So, I heard a good joke today,” Mac says.

“Oh really? Where’d you hear it?”

“On my run. The teenage boys on the corner were practicing their stand-up comedy routine in the front yard again.”

Riley smiles. “Let’s hear it.”

Mac takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself so he doesn’t start laughing before he lands the punchline. “What did the fish say when it hit the wall?”

Riley makes a show of thinking for a second. “I don’t know. What?”

“Dam.”

Riley tips her head back and laughs, the sound loud and full of life. Tendrils of warmth curl in Mac’s insides, taking up residence in the shadowed corners of his soul. He’s been thinking about that joke all day, waiting for the right moment to tell her.

Because Riley is the first person he wanted to tell, not Bozer or Desi or anyone else.

Just Riley.

She’s still laughing as her gaze catches his, and her raw, unguarded expression sends a chill down Mac’s spine.

Sometimes Mac lets himself think about what it could be like if that wall between them wasn’t there.

She’d consume him, in every way possible. And he’d gladly let her.

But that wall is there. It’s been there since the day they met, and Mac respects her too much to poke holes in it. Maybe it’s a good thing. With the wall there to block sparks and fireworks, they developed a quiet rhythm of love and care, and Mac wouldn’t trade that for the world.

If he let himself love her, really love her, there would be no going back from that, no returning to the way things are now. Either they’d be it for each other—be the one—or they’d wreck each other too thoroughly to ever be just friends again. So even if the wall came down, in a future where Desi is out of the picture, Mac would think twice before crossing that line with Riley.

And he knows she would too.

But that wall is there, Mac reminds himself again, and he and Desi are trying to make their relationship work. And as for Riley...

Riley will always be the “what if” he never got the chance to answer.

Mac can live with that. He doesn’t have a choice, really.

*****

Riley didn’t think about where was going. She just let her hands and feet take her where she needed to go, and it’s only in the comfortable quiet after Mac tells his stupid joke that Riley realizes what she’s done.

“I’ve never taken anyone here before,” she confesses suddenly. Riley found this lesser-known beach access point in high school, not long after getting her driver’s license. Her spot has always been a quiet place she could escape to when she needed to avoid the real world for a while. It has always been there for her—when Riley was mad or sad or frustrated, or when she just needed some alone time to think.

Mac snaps his head up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Riley looks away. She wants to tell him, but she can’t bring herself to do it while he’s looking at her like that. “Though, I almost took Aubrey here once.”

“What stopped you?”

“I chickened-out at the last minute. I thought I was ready to share it with him, but there was this little voice in my head telling me to keep this place to myself. So I kept driving. I parked in the lot a couple miles south and said that was my spot.” Riley avoids thinking about what it might mean that she didn’t think twice about bringing Mac.

There’s a long pause, and then Mac says, “Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn’t have to. And for the record, even if you had told me about your spot, I never would’ve asked you to bring me here if you didn’t want to.”

It takes a couple tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “I think Aubrey knew I was lying,” Riley deflects. “So I made out with him long enough for him to forget, and he never brought it up later.” She picks at her nails. The dark gray polish is chipping; she’ll have to repaint them soon. “That was the only thing I ever lied to him about. Besides work stuff, of course. And we know how that turned out.”

The stench of seaweed and decay fills her nostrils. Riley focuses on it—anything to distract her from the scent of Mac’s laundry detergent. It’s plagued her ever since moving in with him after breaking up with Aubrey. The scent she’s long associated with safety and her friend—and now the person she has unrequited feelings for—follows her everywhere, since her clothes smell like it too. Most days Riley can ignore it, but sometimes....sometimes it feels like torture.

And right now, at her special spot, in his truck, wearing clothes that smell like him, it all feels like a mockery of what Riley wants and can never have.

Once, just this once, she lets herself imagine it anyway.

They’re on another drive, just like this one. It starts with stolen glances, then she switches to driving with one hand so the other can rest innocently on the center console, and soon enough, Mac’s fingers slip between hers.

Then they’re parked at Riley’s spot, and his lips are on her neck, trailing light kisses across her throat. They get a little carried away, marking skin and untucking shirts, and a murmured Let’s get out of here has Riley speeding home so they can continue this in private.

Riley shivers. Taking a deep breath, she tucks the fantasy into the far corner of her mind for safe keeping. Riley knows she should just let it go. There’s only so long she can sit in the silence, waiting for a sign and wondering if kissing him would really ruin everything they already have.

Riley finally dares to glance at Mac again. He’s already looking at her, still wearing that soft expression from before. It��s enough to make her wonder, what if?

What if he’s everything she ever wanted?

But what if she loses everything instead?

#this is the only joke I know so please laugh #beth writes #quarantine moments #macgyver #macriley #macgyver fanfiction #angus macgyver #riley davis

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aka-ashi-keiji · 3 years

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“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

*******************************************************

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard.

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared.

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs.

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ‘yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting.

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces.

“I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls. it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him. He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday.

***************************************🌸

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

just the start chapter one

summary: It’s such a sweet beginning and such a horrible end. Before you die for someone, you have to love them with your very being. You have to see just how much this world needs them despite their doubts and you have to be happy up until the very end. If not for you then for them.

a/n: I give to thee part one of the just a scratch prequel. This is a series that I will most likely very slowly update because tgt has my full attention and this is all I have for it so far. Please tell me your thoughts on it and as always thank you @medeliadracon

word count: 3k

Your kids are going to be the death of you. It was meant to be an easy, minimum stress day where you handed the kids a test you’d been helping them study for over two weeks. Afterward, it was a lesson on the creation of the Earth Kingdom and its early history, but ten-year-olds never like to make things easy on you. You caught three of your students trying to cheat off of one another and two forgot to bring pencils to school. Someone tried to feign illness to get out of it, which led three others to try their luck as well.

Another one of your students decided to continuously interrupt what was meant to be a painless fifteen-minute lesson into a thirty-minute lesson that had everyone groaning in their seats towards the ends. You did not get paid enough for this.

You may have been a bit harsh by assigning them more homework than normal and it would come back to bite you in the ass when it came time to grade them. The problem is that if you yell at them or call them assholes you’ll lose your job so instead you decide to punish them with more work and you finally leave the classroom with a tense demeanor and a need to see your favorite person.

You usually don’t let work get to you like this, you're known as the sweet teacher that everyone adores so on the days when you snap or hand out extra work your students know they messed up big time. But last night you may have lost track of time as you read a new book you had purchased the day before.

You couldn’t help how it sucked you in and locked you inside its pages until late into the evening, so you woke up late with the book lying flat against your chest and your head laid in a weird angle on the arm of your couch. You weren’t able to eat any breakfast as you ran to school with half of your shirt untucked and your hair messily pinned back.

It’s early evening now and you know she will most likely stay late at the office so you decide to bring her some of her favorite food from a fire nation food cart. By now the owner knows you by name and happily whips up the usual as you tighten your coat around you. Summer is slowly saying goodbye and in its wake autumn is bringing a chill as the sun goes down. Soon enough it’ll be the best kind of weather to cozy up inside with a mug of tea and a novel.

You’re suddenly thankful for your outfit choice, a pair of dark brown loose slacks that button at your waist with a white long-sleeved blouse tucked into the waistband. You do regret the pair of burnt orange heels you paired with the outfit, school required women to wear them which you felt was incredibly wrong with being on your feet for the majority of the day.

Usually, you’d pack a pair of flats to change into but this morning you forgot it along with your scarf. So as your feet ache you decide to strike up a conversation with one of your favorite people.

“How are you doing today?” Kaito, the food cart owner is a sweet old man who you’ve been coming to way before you met Lin. It’s only a block away from the school so when you first started working there you’d rush out during lunch to get something to eat in hopes that food would calm you down.

“I’m doing okay, although I must say the local gossip has kept me entertained today,” he places the boxes of your food into a paper bag as you hand him the yuans for the meals. You quirk a brow with an amused smile and ask “and what is the gossip today?”

“The Avatar has come to Republic City!”

“Wow, are you sure about that?” You grab the bag of food from the cart and wait for his reply before leaving.

“Well, my buddy told me, said he witnessed it himself and I believe him.”

“I’m putting my trust in you Kaito. If that’s a lie I’ll be very sad,” you say teasingly before taking a step back to walk away. He calls after you, claiming he’d never lie and while you know he’s telling the truth you still decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him over your shoulder. “Have a nice night!”

Those around whom don’t know you, which is everyone except for Kaito, watch in bewilderment at the thirty-nine years old woman who acts like a child towards the elderly cart owner.

That little encounter helped ease your nerves a bit as you walked towards the police station, cars zoomed past as the streetlights flickered on to illuminate the streets. Lin had been talking to you about needing a mode of transportation, she hated you walking everywhere for fear of getting mugged, but you enjoyed walking. It gave you time to look back on your day and think about what needs to be done before your head hits the pillow.

Some overpriced car will slash that time in half and with it your moment of silence. That being said it would be nice on your feet and back. You jog up the long stone steps in front of the precinct, a few officers are filing out for the night, all of which have slowly pieced together who you are.

They throw smiles your way as you hold the door open for them before walking inside. Ishi, the lady who runs the front desk smiles as she watches you walk past with the bag of food in hand. Everyone here likes you, which is no surprise, especially since anytime you visit Lin is left in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Phones are ringing as you walk through the main office where desks are lined up, a couple of the detectives and rookies offer a hello in between flipping through pages of paperwork or dialing the phone. Without knocking, because at this point you know it’ll just result in Lin yelling, you open the door to her office.

You find her hunched over her desk with her glasses resting at the tip of her nose. She’s got papers scattered across the desk with her chin resting in her hands. At the sound of the door opening, she glances up and lets out a sigh of relief at seeing you instead of some officer.

“Thought I’d bring you an early dinner and hopefully rip you away from your work for at least a few minutes,” you say as you set the bag down on the desk. She pushes away from the desk and, taking off her glasses, collects the mess of papers to help prep the desk for the meal.

“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” She asks you this as she moves past you to put the stack of papers on the couch. You shrug and begin to pull out the containers of Komodo sausage and spicy fire noodles. “I wanted to, besides I know you probably skipped lunch.”

At the site of the containers from Kaito’s Lin shakes her head with a smile. “You know, one of these days I’m going to make you eat something other than Kaito’s food.”

“Hey!” You look up with a playful scowl, chopsticks in hand. “I eat my own food and that meal you made me.”

She rolls her eyes and comes up to pull you into a brief kiss, you smile as her lips touch yours and lean closer to her. Any ounce of stress left from your workday vanishes just as it always does when it comes to Lin.

“Fine,” she says, her lips gently brushing against yours, she’s smiling too. “I’m going to make you eat something other than our home-cooked meals and Kaito’s.”

“Never,” you whisper before pecking her on the lips. You pull yourself away from her, truly you want to stay in her arms and kiss her until you're breathless but you know she needs to eat. Plus you don’t want this food to get cold. “Now c’mon, eat up and tell me about your day.”

You hand Lin her chopsticks as you sit down on the leather chair opposite her desk, she rolls her desk chair to sit beside you and picks up her container of sausages and pours them over the noodles. With your legs crossed over one another your foot brushes against her leg as you do the same. This is a routine picked up long ago, just at the start of your relationship actually.

Most days you’d come here for dinner or drag her out of the office to eat at your apartment. She was grateful for your care, to be honest at first she tried to push you away, to keep you at arm's length, but she couldn’t. Lin gave up within two days of knowing you and has ever since been enraptured by your mere presence.

“It was…” Lin sighs, “the Avatar has come to town and destroyed public and private property along with interfering with Republic City Police business. I’ve been neck-deep in paperwork ever since Tenzin came to bail her out.” She stabs her chopsticks into her noodles with a scowl and swirls them around to gather a bunch of noodles around them.

“I heard about her coming to town but I didn’t know she did all of that.”

“Yeah, and she tried to tell me how to do my job!” Setting your container down you reach over to rub your hand up her arm in a soothing manner. You tend to let off steam by reading or spending time with others whilst Lin bottled it up and let it twist into something akin to resentment.

Thankfully she recently started opening up to you and somehow she was surprised by the fact that you actually listened to her. “She’s some privileged teenager who knows nothing about this city or the law, and she tried to tell me how to do my job.”

“Lin you have to think about what you were like as a teenager. What she did was wrong, but they tend to be a bit entitled at times. Once she finds out how much you really love this city she’ll take it back and respect you.”

“Well, thankfully she won’t have to because Tenzin said he’d take her back to the South Pole.”

You roll your eyes at the mention of Tenzin, not being able to help yourself. You are a nice person, really you are and you try not to let people get to you but fuck does that Airbender get on your nerves. When he found out Lin was dating someone, a woman on top of that, he freaked out and somehow tried to make it about him.

When Lin said she happened to like men and women he stood with his mouth open in confusion. You know how hard that was for her to say. You were the second woman she had ever been with, the first some one-night stand she had met some years ago in a smoky bar. But you were the first woman she had ever dated and for her to finally admit it was a big step. You had stood there with her hand in yours as you tried to silently support her.

He shut up when she said she loved you. She hadn’t told him until a month ago so your irritation was still warranted, but you knew it was probably time to get over it. It just upset you that he expected her to spend the rest of her days alone while he happily creates as many airbenders as he can with the woman he cheated on her with. Due to him, Lin still held back to some degree regarding your relationship, which you understood and didn’t hold it against her. But you did hold it against him.

“C’mon, I know you hate him and I definitely don’t like him but at least he’s getting rid of her.” Lin sets her container down to thread her fingers through yours. You nod and gently squeeze her hand twice, a little thing you came up with a month ago. She squeezes back twice and you smile, she smiles back.

“You’re right, at least he’s doing one good thing.” Lin can’t help but laugh at that, she slowly lets go of your hand so you both can go back to eating. For a while, it’s comfortably silent as you both chow down. Lin didn’t realize how hungry she was until the delicious scent of Kaito’s cooking wafted through the air.

You’ve been happily in a relationship for almost a year, with your anniversary just days away it makes Lin wonder what these kinds of days were like before you. She can’t seem to remember, all the memories of this office that she can conjure up involve you in some way.

Lin already made sure to have time off for that day, she scheduled herself to leave early and has even been scoping out the best restaurants and jazz clubs in the area. She’s surprised herself with how much effort she’s putting into planning this. To be fair Lin Beifong never does something half-assed but even when she was with Tenzin their anniversaries were a bit simple, and she let him plan them.

“By the way can you be ready by six on Saturday for me?” You bite your lip with furrowed brows as you try to think up what's happening Saturday. With your muddled brain, it takes a few seconds for you to remember your anniversary, which is surprising seeing as you wrote it down in your calendar two months into your relationship. You even found a present for her last month.

“Hmm,” you tap your chin as you try to fight off a smile. “I don’t know, what’s Saturday?” You quirk a brow and Lin knows you’re teasing her by the look on your face.

“You know what’s Saturday.” She stares you down with an exasperated expression and sets her empty container on the desk. Biting your lip you try to continue playing dumb “I don’t think I do, can you help jog my memory?”

Your chair is close enough to hers that she can easily grab onto it and pull it until your knees are touching. In a swift motion that you could definitely never succeed at doing on your own, Lin grabs you by the hips and pulls you off your chair until you're straddling her lap. The last of your noodles go flying to the floor, not that either of you notices, as you let out a shriek of surprise.

“What happened a year ago on Saturday?”

“Y’know I think I rearranged my bookshelf that day, it was life-changing if I’m-” You begin to laugh as she scowls, “being honest.”

“You’re impossible,” she huffs. You lean down to peck her lips, your free hand going to cradle her scarred cheek. She leans forward to kiss you back but you teasingly pull away and watch as she chases after your lips.

“Hmm, did I go on a date with someone almost a year ago?”

“Y’know what I am perfectly fine going back to being single.” Lies, she doesn’t know how she’d cope without you in her life. You’ve added color back into her world and reminded her what it feels like to be happy, to feel loved and secure. It terrifies her if she’s being honest. Everyone she’s ever loved has disappointed her, she doesn’t know what she’ll do if you end up leaving her too.

“Okay, okay! Yes, I know what Saturday is.” You reach behind you to place your container on the desk, it falls onto its side due to the awkward angle but you’ll just clean it up later. Now with both hands-free, you gently cradle her face between them. Lin’s hands rest on the curve of your hips. “What kind of outfit should I wear? Something elegant or something you can easily take off?”

“Why not both?” She says with a smirk. Lin pulls you into another kiss, this one is slow and less innocent than the others. Her lips slant against yours as she pulls you closer by your hips.

You kiss her back at the same, slow pace, neither of you pushes further than the kiss. For a few minutes, you both lazily kiss one another, you missed her. Yesterday was so hectic that all you could do was call her when you finally finished grading some papers.

Reluctantly you pull away, you’re all for going further, but just not this second. You want to keep teasing her, you just can’t help it. Lin doesn’t hate your playful side, if anything she adores it which surprised quite a few people. You were this cheery woman with a bounce in your step who looked at Lin like she hung the moon.

Grumpy, bitter Lin, or so she thought. In your eyes she was amazing, she had a dry sense of humor that caught many by surprise, and she was so incredibly gentle with you. Before you even started dating she let you hold her hand or pull her into a hug, even if she did grumble about it at first.

She wouldn’t tell you then, but she secretly loved how you kept coming back despite her trying to pretend like she wasn’t totally head over heels for you. It made her feel desired and important.

“Now you’re just being greedy.”

Lin shakes her head at your words, her eyes locking in with yours once more. “I can show you greedy.”

You slowly move your hands from her cheeks to softly scratch her scalp, she lets out a relaxed sigh at your ministrations. You smile as you move them further back, her usual simple hairstyle is messed up in the process, but she doesn’t mind. It’s easy to fix.

“I’d like to see that.” You know you’ve egged her on, challenged her, and she does not back down from a challenge. Perhaps you could help relieve some of her stress on the couch before dragging her out of the office for the night.

The idea of teasing her and dragging this out flees from your mind as Lin pulls you into a heated kiss. You can’t help but think when she slips her tongue into your mouth, this woman will be the death of me.

#lin beifong #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong/reader #lin beifong fanfiction #fanifc #lok fanfic #legend of korra #lok #just the start #jts

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darlingandmreames · 3 years

Text

No One Knows (Until Everyone Knows)

(also on ao3)

Ariadne got a couple of blocks away from the workshop before she reached for her phone and found an empty pocket instead. If it had been anything else- except maybe her keys, she needed those unless she wanted to sleep outside- she would’ve just kept going and grabbed them when she got in the next day. Not her phone though. That she needed.

The door was still unlocked when she tried the handle and the lights were on when she slipped back inside. Normally she would’ve assumed it was Cobb, he tended to stay late, but he’d headed out surprisingly early that day. Both Arthur and Eames had still been finishing up working when she’d left, though, so at least one of them must have still been in. It was a bit late for both of them, particularly Eames, but she’d long given up trying to figure out any of their schedules. If taking this job had taught her anything it was that people in the dream sharing field had the most incomprehensible sleep and work schedules of anyone she’d ever met.

“We should head out soon.”

“I heard you the first six times. Let me finish this first.” Ariadne could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes. “Unlike you, I am actually doing work.”

She smiled, half listening to their conversation in the other room as she scanned the tables for her phone. Out of everyone it had taken her the longest to get used to working with the two of them. On their own they were both fine; they both had their oddities but were still nice enough, and Arthur in particular had been helpful and patient as Ariadne had tried to adjust to dream sharing and manipulating. The two of them together, though, was a very different story. They argued constantly and she'd thought at first that they didn't like each other, but she realized quickly enough that their bickering was more banter than actual arguing. They were an odd pair, but entertaining once she'd gotten more used to it.

"I was working but then you said you were almost ready to head out so I stopped working. You're the one holding us up."

"You realize you can just leave without me, right? You're under no obligation to wait if my desire to actually do my job is bothering you so much."

Ariadne could already see them in her mind. Arthur sitting at the table he'd staked out as his, papers spread around him, Eames leaning against the table next to him, grinning and arms crossed. It was a scene she'd seen plenty of times over the past couple of weeks, sometimes multiple times a day.

It was not the scene she found when she finally rounded the corner, however. Some pieces were the same- Arthur was indeed standing at his usual table, papers spread around him- but Eames wasn’t leaning against the table. He was standing behind Arthur, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist and chin resting on his shoulder as Arthur sifted through various papers. “And miss out on your delightful company?” He kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Never.”

She watched, surprised, as Arthur laughed quietly. “Thought I was difficult and annoying?”

“You are. Very annoying. Especially when you’re keeping me from heading back to the hotel.”

Ariadne backed up around the corner and back out of view quietly, feeling awkward. She certainly couldn’t say she was shocked, the two of them spent most of their time walking the very thin line between banter and outright flirting, but still. She’d never seen them like this, and she got the feeling that was very much intentional. She hesitated a moment, thinking over her options, before dropping her keys loudly on the concrete floor. She took her time picking them up, trying to make as much noise as she could without it being obvious that that's what she was doing. Let them know she was there and give them a moment to move if they wanted to before she walked in.

Sure enough when she rounded the corner again Eames was leaning against the table several feet from Arthur, who suddenly seemed singularly focused on whatever papers he had in front of him. Ariadne smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know I already said night for the evening, but have either of you seen my phone? I think I left it here, and I didn’t see it on any of the tables in the other room.”

Eames glanced around, frowning, before pointing to the counter. “Is that it?”

She followed his finger, smiling in relief when she spotted her phone lying next to some of Yusuf’s equipment. “Shit, yeah, thanks.” She slipped it into her pocket and gave a quick wave as she headed back towards the door, walking quickly. She already felt awkward for interrupting, no need to make it worse by staying longer than absolutely necessary. “Okay, goodnight for real this time!”

Ariadne glanced back once she was back outside, the light from the workshop shining dimly through the obscured windows. That…certainly hadn't been what she'd expected to find. It was sweet though, honestly. And it certainly put their bickering in a new light. She wondered if Cobb knew; he and Arthur clearly knew each other fairly well, so if anyone else knew it'd be him. Given their apparent desire to keep their relationship hidden, though, she doubted it. She set off down the sidewalk toward her apartment, smiling slightly. Well, he wouldn't hear it from her.

XXX

When Saito had first begun considering hiring Dominic Cobb to perform inception, he’d done his homework. Arthur Cohen- though Saito doubted that was his real name- had come up repeatedly in the process, and Saito hadn’t been surprised in the least to find him working this job as well. He was known for being one of the best pointmen in the field and for being serious, efficient, and perfectionistic. And he had very much lived up to that reputation in the short time Saito had been working with him.

Unless Eames was around.

“Thank you for your input, Eames, it was most helpful.”

Eames leaned back in his chair with what might have passed as a polite smile if he’d been aiming it at anyone else. Saito couldn’t tell which Eames seemed to enjoy more: starting disagreements with Arthur, or egging him on once they began. Either way it was a common enough occurrence that Saito knew exactly what was coming. This was the third time they’d gone at it in as many hours. “Well someone has to bring some imagination to the job, and it clearly isn’t going to be you, love.”

“Yes, your imagination is always so wonderfully helpful. Like on the Barraker job, remember how helpful it was then? It even managed to get me shot if I remember correctly.”

“See?” Eames grinned. “Very helpful indeed.”

Cobb sighed. “Focus, gentlemen. Please.” He turned back to papers spread out across the table. “We need to figure out how to get Fischer from ‘I will create something for myself’ on the second level to ‘my father doesn’t want me to be him’ on the third. It’s a logical leap, but still a bit of a leap all the same.”

That was when it happened. A small smile that was more warm than teasing, met with an eye roll that was more fond than annoyed. The exchange was over almost immediately and both men were back to paying attention to Cobb like nothing had happened. If Saito hadn’t been specifically watching the two of them he would’ve missed it, and as it was he seemed to be the only one who’d caught it.

Saito'd had several affairs over the years. He'd never married himself, nor did he intend to, but several of his partners had been, so he knew that game quite well. Hiding affection in plain sight. Stolen glances when no one else was looking, lingering touches that were just brief enough to still look casual, carefully maintained appearances and interactions that often carried a second, more intimate meaning. He was familiar with all of them, having been both the initiator and recipient of them on numerous occasions. It was a game built on subtlety. On delicacy. On smiles and eye rolls when no one else was paying attention.

He continued watching Arthur and Eames as the conversation continued but the moment didn't repeat itself, not even when they started bickering again a few minutes later. Saito couldn't help but wonder what they were like when they were alone; the fondness and warmth had been brief, but it hinted at a side to both men that was surprising. It perhaps shouldn't have been- he knew as well as anyone that a professional persona was often little more than that, a persona- but it was nonetheless.

He sighed slightly and went back to actually listening to what Cobb was saying. He was the one who'd insisted on being this involved in the job in the first place, the least he could do was pay attention.

XXX

For a profession that took place almost entirely while asleep, dream sharing was full of people with terrible sleep schedules. Even occasional somnacin use fucked with the circadian rhythm and the amounts professional extractors used were enough to completely destroy any hope of a regular sleeping pattern. So Yusuf didn't think twice about knocking on Eames' hotel door at 11pm. He was three cups of coffee in and eager to share the breakthrough he'd just had, nearly vibrating with a combination of caffeine and excitement. Actively working with a team on a job opened up so many new possibilities that he'd never really had the chance to explore running his shop back in Mombasa, and he was thrilled to finally have the chance to do so.

Eames gave him a tired smile when he opened the door. "Yes, hello Yusuf, can I help you?"

He looked surprisingly disheveled, his shirt untucked and hair out of place, and Yusuf briefly wondered if he'd maybe been getting ready for bed. Even if he was this wouldn't take long, and Yusuf was too excited to not tell someone what he'd figured out. "I was working- well, I was actually making coffee, but that's a necessary part of working, so basically the same thing- and I realized something." He pushed past Eames and into his room. He had a tendency to get a little loud once he got going, so he figured it'd be best if they didn't have this conversation in the hallway. "So the compound we'll be using creates a super clear connection, right? Between dreamers? And normally we talk about that just in relation to the team members, but it obviously includes the mark as well! That means when you're impersonating Browning on the first level you could…"

Yusuf stopped, confused, when he got into the main part of Eames' room. He'd assumed Eames would be alone because, well, it was 11pm on a Tuesday. Not exactly prime time for company. But Arthur was there too, laying on the bed. He was propped up on his elbows, expression somewhere between mortification and murderous intent. It would've been pretty funny, honestly, if it hadn't been directed at Yusuf. He frowned. Had Arthur come in to talk about the job with Eames as well? He couldn't think of any other reason for him to be here. He looked a bit disheveled too, jacket laying on the ground beside the bed and shirt partially unbuttoned, which was odd given how proper Arthur usually was, and… Yusuf stopped.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Did you need something?"

Arthur's tone was tight and yeah, that was definitely murderous intent in his expression. "I, uh…" Yusuf glanced around, panicking. This was bad. He needed to get out of here. "I, um, you know, it's really not that important. It can, uh, it can wait. Until tomorrow. Yeah. I'm, um, I'm going to, uh, go now."

"That'd be great, thanks." Eames was still standing by the door, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he wanted Yusuf out of the room just as much as Yusuf wanted to leave. He moved aside as Yusuf hurried passed him and back out into the hallway. "Oh, and Yusuf?"

Yusuf turned around, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Y-yeah?"

"This, um," Eames ran a hand through his hair, giving Yusuf an embarrassed smile, "this just stays between us, yeah?"

Yusuf nodded. Keep it quiet, he could do that. "Not a word."

"Thanks." Eames closed his door and Yusuf hurried back to his own room. He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it, deadbolt and chain, just for good measure. He didn't think Arthur would actually kill him- there were clearly…other things to occupy his attention right now- but he still intimidated Yusuf enough that he figured it was better safe than sorry.

It was a bit sweet though, now that he had a chance to actually think about it. The two of them were insufferable around each other but in the sort of way a kid was insufferable around their crush, and he'd wondered if they had a bit of a thing for each other. It was nice to know he'd been right, even if it meant avoiding Arthur for the next few days.

XXX

In retrospect, Dom felt rather stupid for not having seen it earlier.

He'd known Arthur a long time. He’d actually been the architect on the first job Arthur ever worked, which was how they’d met, and they’d worked together relatively frequently in the years since. He was the only person Dom had worked with who had met his kids, even if just briefly, and he’d been one of the only semi-stable parts of Dom’s life since Mal’s death. They’d had their differences over the years, but Dom unquestionably considered him a friend. Probably the closest one he had anymore, and he liked to think he knew at least a decent bit about him.

One of the things he knew was that Arthur and Eames bickered. They always had, ever since the first job Dom had worked with both of them. It was just what they did. That was the unspoken arrangement of any job both of them were working: you got an excellent point man, an excellent forger, and a guarantee that they’d refuse to shut up or get along for more than 5 minutes for the entirety of the job. Dom had occasionally wondered if it was more flirting than actual bickering- it certainly walked the line sometimes- but he’d never really given it much mind. Even if it had been flirting, there hadn’t been anything behind it.

Except maybe there had.

Because Arthur’s voice wasn’t usually as soft, or as fond, as it was when he told Eames to go to sleep. Dom glanced over at him as he rolled up his own sleeve. Eames had already gone under but Arthur was still crouched by him, Eames’ hand in his. It was small, maybe nothing for most people, but Dom knew Arthur. Knew him pretty well, or at least as well as Arthur let anyone know him. He wasn’t nearly as cold or emotionless as people tended to assume he was, but he also wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, not openly at least. And that was affection in his expression, clear as day.

He looked away as Arthur stood back up, busying himself with his IV. That…wasn't a side of Arthur he'd really seen before, and he got the feeling that was intentional. Arthur was a private man after all, even for someone in their profession, and this was far from a good time to risk infringing on that. There was more than enough shit going on that was more important, and Arthur would have his hands full enough trying to hold off Fischer's sub-security for Dom to risk throwing him off; their lives depended on Arthur being focused.

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, just…just give me a sec." Dom finished rolling up his sleeve and got ready to insert the line. Maybe he'd ask after the job, assuming they all made it.

XXX

Arthur was usually a pretty even keeled person. Years of working in the underworld of extraction meant that very little surprised him anymore, and he tended to be unfazed by most things. Even when things did manage to surprise him he'd long learned to keep it hidden below the surface, away and out of sight. Right now, though, he felt almost giddy.

They’d done it. They’d fucking done it. Inception. It’d gone sideways in just about every way possible, but they’d still done it. It was an amazing feeling and as Eames came up beside him, Arthur couldn’t help but look at him with a grin. Eames raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re in a good mood.”

“And you’re not?”

“Course I am.” Eames grinned back and leaned in slightly, his hand brushing briefly against Arthur’s hip. “You just don’t usually show it so openly.”

Arthur leaned in as well, resting against Eames' arm. "I have my moments."

"That you do, darling," Eames laughed. "That you do." After a moment he shifted, slipping his arm around Arthur's waist. They generally avoided any sort of public affection but Arthur leaned into the touch, wrapping his own arm around Eames' waist in return. Eames laughed again. "You really are in a good mood."

"Just looking forward to celebrating a job well done." He rested his head against Eames' shoulder. Across the baggage carousel Saito caught his eye, raising an eyebrow, and Arthur shrugged slightly in return. "I was thinking dinner?"

"Mm, maybe a few drinks too." Eames pulled him in slightly. "I know a wonderful bar near the hotel, one of my favourites in the city."

"Sounds like an excellent plan." Knowing Eames, a favourite bar could refer to anything from an exclusive establishment to a hole in the wall dive bar, and Arthur absolutely couldn't find it in him to care which it was. All that mattered was that it was the two of them, celebrating.

The baggage area slowly began to clear out as people's luggage began dropping down onto the carousel. Yusuf hurried by them, bag in hand, glancing at them briefly and nodding before looking away again almost immediately. Eames chuckled and Arthur couldn't help but smile as well; he'd been awkward around them ever since he'd stopped by Eames' room unannounced, even going so far as to avoid the both of them as much possible for a few days afterwards. Ariadne seemed to have no such qualms, though, flashing them a wide grin as she walked by. Arthur smiled back; if Ariadne stayed in the dreamsharing field- which Arthur had a feeling she would, reality was never enough after getting a taste for dream construction- he had no doubt he and Eames would get a comment or two from her the next job they worked together.

The giddiness faded somewhat as he and Eames waited for their bags to appear, but the sense of excitement and disbelief stayed. Arthur caught Dom's eye as he made his way across the room and Dom nodded, his own expression mirroring Arthur's disbelief. They'd really done it. They'd performed inception. Completed a job that shouldn't have been possible and gotten Dom home. Arthur hummed happily as Eames rested his cheek against the top of his head. It would be nice to spend the night out, dinner and drinks and wherever else they ended up until they finally ended up back at the hotel, riding the high of what they'd managed to pull off. After everything, they deserved it.

#arthur x eames #arthur/eames #dream husbands #dreamhusbands #inception #arthur #eames #ariadne #saito #yusuf #dom cobb #arthur inception #eames inception #ariadne inception #saito inception #yusuf inception #arthureames #local trash goblin writes stuff

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lumosinlove · 4 years

Text

Sweater Weather

Pascal Dumais = Dumo

Finn O’Hara = Harzy

Logan Tremblay = Tremzy, Lo

Leo Knut = Knutty, Nut

Thomas Walker = Talker

Kasey Winter = The Blizzard

James Potter = Pots, Potty

chapter xi

The wind as the team got off the plane in Winnipeg hit Remus like a wall of ice. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and bent his head against the sting of snow.

“This is why it isn’t fun!” he heard Kasey shout from somewhere behind him and couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped onto the bus. He nodded at the driver and slung his bag from his shoulder, shoving it in one of the overhead racks before sliding into a seat near the front. Remus shivered, tugging off his coat and stuffing it between himself and the window as a barrier from the cold leaking through the glass. He gathered his sweater over his hands and tucked one knee against his chest, watching the team load the bus. There was a lot of yawning and shuffling. Remus accepted a tired head pat from Pascal, and returned a little salute from Finn, before Sirius appeared up the bus steps.

He was rubbing one eye, beanie low around his ears and looking sleek in his dark gray, wool coat. Remus tilted his cheek on his knee and watched Sirius’ eyes find his. He blinked for a minute and then stopped walking abruptly, causing Logan to bump into his back forehead first.

“Quoi?” Logan grumbled.

Sirius jolted a step forward again. “Sorry.”

He sent Remus a smile before sliding into the seat beside James a few rows back.

Coach was the last one on. He shook hands with the driver, then clapped for attention.

“Alright, boys. Sleep while you can, okay? We’ll get to the hotel late, it’s a bit of a drive, and I’m making morning skate mandatory tomorrow.”

There were some groans and Arthur smiled wryly before sitting back down with some of the assistant coaches.

When they arrived at the hotel it was almost two in the morning and, knowing he had to get up at five, Remus took his new room key and booked it to the elevator. He rode up with Kris and Evgeni, and, once he had safely waved goodnight to them and closed the door, he stripped out of all his clothes and took his toothbrush to the bathroom. He was dead tired, but also half hoping that Sirius would show up at his door. Sure enough, he was turning his lights off and tugging a t-shirt and sweatpants on when there was a very quiet knock at his door. He smiled as he looked through the peephole. There was Sirius, looking large and looming in the fish-eyed glass, hands in his pockets and looking down the hallway both ways.

Remus opened the door, and they were quiet until it was safely shut behind them.

“Again,” Remus said. “Not careful.”

“Guess I’m bad at that,” Sirius said, and leaned in for a sweet kiss. “I won’t stay long,” he said as he walked into Remus’ room. “I just sort of…”

Remus laughed as Sirius flopped on the bed on his back. He smiled and beckoned Remus closer with his socked foot.

“Just want to hang out,” he said, and turned on his side once Remus laid down on the bed, too. “Ça va?”

Remus shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, tired.” He laughed, “Cold.”

“I can warm you up,” Sirius said, yawning and pulling Remus into his chest at the same time. He was wearing a thick Lions sweatshirt and Remus buried his nose into Sirius’ chest, tucking his arms between them.

“Are you sleeping here?”

“Probably shouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

Sirius snorted. “We sound so convincing.”

Remus laughed. “We do.” He untucked his chin and tilted his head back to look up at Sirius. “Hey.”

Sirius hummed questioningly and looked down at Remus, leaning in to kiss him on the corner of his mouth.

“I know it’s been a few days, but…how are you with the Regulus thing?”

“You mean have I heard anything?”

“No,” Remus said firmly, pressing a palm over Sirius’ chest. “I mean how are you.”

Sirius sighed, pressing his lips to Remus’ forehead for a moment, thinking. he rolled on his back and Remus propped himself on one elbow, hand resting on Sirius’ chest. Sirius put his over Remus’, tangling their fingers together.

“My mother calls me,” he said slowly. “She’s mad I don’t defend Regulus to the media, what they’re saying about him. Bad sportsmanship, jealous…I mean, you’ve read everything.”

Remus had. He’d read everything.

“That’s fucked up,” Remus said. “Really.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said quietly, eyes staring up at the ceiling, fingers idly tracing over the back of Remus’ hand. “I texted him.”

Regulus, Remus figured.

“He didn’t respond,” Sirius finished. “I’m not surprised.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius shook his head, looking at Remus then and smiling—if not a little sadly. “At least I’m free for Christmas. My mother couldn’t talk me down for that. We have Dumo’s party. Is your family coming?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. They’ll actually be at the last game before we break.”

Sirius’ smile lit up. “Yes? Rangers? Julian, too?”

Remus laughed, heart warming. “You love Julian.”

“Yeah,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “He’s a good little brother.”

Remus pressed his hand to Sirius’ cheek. “Aw, Pads.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sirius said. “It’s nice, to have someone like that. I mean, not that he’s mine to have.”

“I’m pretty sure he would love to be yours.”

Sirius smiled, head tilting against the quilt. He ran his knuckles up Remus’ side lightly. “Just him?”

Remus laughed. “No. You know that.” Remus kissed his cheek. “But seriously, what are you going to do for Christmas?”

“Dumo’s,” Sirius snorted, drumming patterns on Remus’ back absentmindedly. “He didn’t even say hello to me after we got back from break, he just told me to be prepared to wear matching pajamas Christmas morning and walked away.”

Remus smiled. “That sounds like Pascal.”

“Yes, it does.”

Remus fiddled with the ties of Sirius’ sweatshirt as they sat, just enjoying each other after a long day. Sirius was scrolling through instagram on his phone, periodically showing something to Remus. Remus tucked his head against Sirius’ neck, enjoying Sirius fingers beneath his shirt, lightly running patterns along his back.

“This is funny, look,” Sirius said sleepily. It was a video of two boys playing hockey with a water balloon, and the loser got it slap-shot in his face.

Remus laughed. “Looks like something Logan and Finn would come up with.”

“Wow, yeah, it does,” Sirius watched the video loop through one more time and laughed before clicking his phone off and throwing it onto the bed, pulling Remus fully on top of him.

“Can’t move,”Sirius said.

“Your feet are dangling off the bed.”

“I can move, but only to the pillows.”

Remus snuggled closer. “As long as you don’t mind my alarm waking you up in…” Remus opened on eye to glance blearily at the clock. He laughed sadly. “Two hours. You have a game tomorrow, I can’t believe I let you stay up this late.”

“Worth it,” Sirius mumbled sleepily. “I’ll play extra hard for you tomorrow, you’ll see.”

Remus hummed, lifting his head and pressing a palm to Sirius’ jaw to kiss him. He sucked on Sirius’ lower lip, kissing him slowly. Sirius moved his hands to Remus’ ass and thighs.

“Re,” Sirius said against his lips. “Do you sometimes feel like—like we’ve known each other for a long time?”

Remus smiled, settling himself more fully on top of Sirius. “Yeah. I do.”

Sirius pushed his hands through Remus’ hair. “Miss you when we aren’t together. Maybe that’s weird after only, what is it, a few months, but…”

Remus shook his head. “It isn’t weird,” he said softly.

Sirius’ hands smoothed down his back. His eyes were sort of wide, searching. He pressed his palm flat there, smiling a little. “You’re heart’s beating.” Sirius took a breath, like he was steadying himself. “Fast.”

“You’ve been making that happen for a while.” Remus said.

He hesitated, looking at Sirius, then, “You know, I never really had good friends…I mean, I did, but…”

Sirius picked his head up a little. “But?”

Remus cleared his throat. “Just…you know, a lot of my friends were in hockey, and when I had to quit…you know. Different schedules.”

“I can’t believe your coach said that,” Sirius sighed. “You can play, look at you.” Sirius ran his hands over Remus’ arms, his back. “Not too small.”

Remus laughed a little bitterly, swallowing hard and anxious to change the subject. “I might have decided I had a point to prove. Anyway, I’m happy with where I am.”

Sirius patted Remus’ butt lightly. “Me, too.”

Remus smiled. “My point is, kissing you, being with you… It’s incredible, Sirius, of course, but…I’m really just—I also like…”

“This,” Sirius said, gathering Remus closer and kissing his cheek.

Remus grinned and leaned down to kiss him again. “Yeah. I like this, too. A lot. It does feel like I’ve known you for a long time. And I like that.”

Sirius’ face looked completely calm, so perfectly relaxed and happy that it made Remus’ chest ache. “Me, too.”

Remus twirled a piece of Sirius’ hair around his finger. “We should really go to bed.”

Sirius bit his lip for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Set your alarm.”

Remus’ made a pleased noise and pushed himself up to pull back the covers. Sirius tugged his sweatshirt over his head, and then did the same for Remus. Remus laughed as Sirius hustled him beneath the covers before spooning up behind him, skin to skin.

“Hey,” Sirius said.

“Hm?”

Sirius pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “Come to family skate. Bring your family. Parents, Jules.” Another kiss. “And skate with me. Okay?”

Remus tucked Sirius’ hands between his own and his chest, holding them by his heart. “Goodnight,” he sing-songed.

Sirius huffed out a little laugh, but tucked his face against Remus’ neck and let himself drift off to sleep.

It was period two against the Jets and Remus was back in the room with Logan, tenderly prodding at a banged up knee.

“I am going to kill them.”

Remus raised his eyebrow. “The whole team?” Remus pressed his thumbs into the muscle beneath Logan’s knee cap. “How does that feel?”

“Yes,” Logan grumbled, running a hand through his sweaty hair and glancing up at the television playing the game. “And it hurts a little.”

“Scale?”

“Five.”

“Really.”

Logan hesitated. “Six.” He sighed. “Seven, but can’t we freeze it or something?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Tremzy, this isn’t the play-offs. You sit out this game, see how you feel for the rest of the road trip. Simple as that.”

“Well, what do you think?”

Remus went over to the fridge for an icepack. “I think it’s just jammed. It won’t be a big deal if you rest it.”

Remus nearly jumped out of his skin when Logan let out a sudden whoop.

“Jesus Christ,” Remus said, turning. “What the fuck, Tremz?”

Logan slapped the padded examination table a few times before pointing at the television. “Cap’s in a fight, Cap’s fighting Beaulieu, holy shit.”

Remus jumped to stand next to Logan so he could see the TV. Sure enough, there was a close up of Sirius’ face. Remus could see his gloves on the ice behind him as he circled Beaulieu. Lee Jordan was talking a mile a minute on air.

“As we know, we really don’t see Black fight all too much, so this is a bit of a treat.”

“That isn’t to say we don’t see him talk a ref’s head off,” Dean Thomas laughed. “Oh, here we go. Beaulieu slammed O’Hara into the boards pretty hard and Black took it upon himself to retaliate.”

“What the fuck,” Logan said under his breath. “How did I miss that, what, Finn…”

“We see O’Hara being helped off the ice now, but oh, Black throws a mean punch!”

Sirius had the Jet by the front of his jersey, holding him in place as he delivered a right hook to his jaw.

“Beaulieu takes off Black’s helmet,” Dean said, “But Black’s got him in a head lock. Oof, I wouldn’t want to be Nathan Beaulieu right now. Black wrestles Beaulieu down on the ice…and…and the refs are there, alright. Exciting stuff, folks.”

“Indeed, Dean,” Lee Jordon laughed. “Certainly got the crowd into it. The Lions players are having a rough night for injuries, though. First Tremblay, now O’Hara. Let’s hope they’re alright.”

Remus watched as Sirius got pulled off of Beaulieu by the referee. He was sweaty and breathing hard, his dark hair falling over his forehead in wet strands. There was blood on his lower lip, and Remus knew it would swell up soon. Remus didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until his lungs burned in protest and he let it all out.

A penalty was called on both teams for fighting and both players skated slowly to their penalty boxes, still spitting words at each other through the glass.

Remus watched, lip pulled between his teeth, as Sirius was handed his gloves and helmet back. He said something that looked nasty to Beaulieu, then laughed with a little sneer to his lip at whatever was replied. Remus took a breath, watching the line of Sirius’ throat as he squirted some water into his mouth, then prodded at his bloody lip.

Only Logan’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Harz, what the hell?”

Finn appeared in the doorway, helmet off and red hair darker from sweat.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Finn said when Logan jumped up.

“Hey,” Remus said, eyes still on the screen as they replayed the fight. He slapped at Logan’s chest with the ice pack. “Sit, Logan.”

Remus ran a hand over his face as they went back to the game, Pascal lining up for the face-off. “Finn, you sit, too.” Remus went to wash his hands. “I didn’t see the hit, tell me.”

Finn sighed as he pushed himself onto the examination table. “It might be my shoulder.”

Logan spluttered. “That’s not fine!”

“Are you fine?” Finn asked him.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “Loops said it’s just a jam.”

Remus walked over to Finn, trying to think of anything except Sirius flicking his hair out of his eyes and wiping blood off of his chin and focus on his job.

“Alright, shoulder?” Remus helped Finn remove his jersey and chest and shoulder pads. “Does it hurt right now? Twinge, ache?”

“Can you move it?” Logan said, leaning over from his own bench.

Remus glanced at him, smiling a little. “You want my job, Tremz?”

Remus wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Logan flush a little. He rolled his eyes and looked back up to the television. When Remus looked back to Finn, he had a funny look on his face, fiddling with the ties on his jersey.

“What he said,” Remus asked.

Finn raised his arm above his head to demonstrate, but winced a little. “I think he just knocked it around, too. I think I can go back out.”

Remus put one hand on Finn’s jaw, keeping his head steady while he pressed gently on his neck. “Anything hurt?”

“No,” Finn said. “All good there. He didn’t really get my head.”

“If you get another concussion, I swear to god,” Logan grumbled, eyes still on the TV.

Remus was extending Finn’s arm out, pushing on the joint when Logan yelled again. James had scored. They all looked to see Sirius, now out of the box, crush him in a hug, knocking their helmets together. A few minutes later, the buzzer went, signaling the ending of the second period.

“Alright,” Remus said. “Harz, you can go back for the third. Tremz, you stay put for this game. Then I think you’ll be good to go.”

“Fuck, Re,” Logan groaned. “Come on.”

Remus held his hands up with a laugh. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Sucks to suck,” Finn said as they stood, swatting Logan’s ass with his glove.

Logan shoved him, carefully avoiding his shoulder, and they walked back together to the slowly filling locker room. Remus spotted Sirius immediately. He was laughing with James in his stall. Finn and Logan made their way over to slap hands about the fight. Remus bit his lip then followed them.

“Need anything, Black?” Remus said.

Sirius looked up, eyes bright with adrenaline. He had stripped off his jersey and was just in his shoulder and chest pads.

Remus pointed to his lip. “All good, or did he get you?”

Sirius rose, even taller with his skates still on. “I’d accept an ice pack.”

“Yeah,” James patted Sirius’ hip. “So he doesn’t look like Kylie Jenner tomorrow.”

Remus laughed. “Nice.”

Sirius trailed him back to the PT room. Remus let the door swing shut and retrieved a cold compress and the first aid kit.

“Hi,” Sirius said, he swung himself up onto the examination table and his hand curved around Remus’ hip, pulling him between his thighs. “Like my fight?”

Remus narrowed his eyes playfully as he carefully dabbed an alcohol pad over Sirius’ lip. His jaw was already tinting a little blue, the lip fat.

Sirius laughed, then winced. “Don’t make me smile.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Remus protested.

Sirius leaned in a little, a question and an invitation. “You don’t have to.”

He smelled like cool ice and the heat of the game. Remus tilted his chin forward, their lips just brushing.

“Hey, Remus,” the door was suddenly opening.

Remus did his best to keep his face completely neutral as Sirius pulled back some, hand slipping back into his own lap. Remus was thankful to every god there was for the alcohol pad in his hand, a perfectly good reason or him to be standing between Sirius’ thighs.

“Yes?” Remus said, turning to see Thomas standing there.

“Hey, you got any icy-hot in here?” Thomas smiled at Sirius, holding his fist out. “Sick out there, Cap.”

Sirius bumped it. “Good hit on Wheeler, let’s take them, eh?”

“You know it,” Walker hit his fist against his palm, then looked at Remus. “Loops?”

“Uh,” Remus blinked, still reeling from the fact that Walker almost walked in on them—

“Icy-hot,” Thomas repeated.

“Yes,” Remus snapped his fingers. “Yes, no, that’s fine. Here. Over here.” Remus picked a few out of one of his bags. “Anything I should know about?”

“Nah, just sore. Thanks, bud. See you out there, Cap.”

Sirius gave a little nod, tearing the alcohol pad packet up into little strips.

After the door closed, Remus and Sirius sat there and stared at each other for a few minutes. Sirius had a funny look on his face. Remus passed a hand through his hair.

“Right,” he sighed. “Okay, well…that’s how easy it would be. There we go.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He was still tearing the packet up. “Yeah.”

Remus walked over and put his hands over Sirius’, stilling them.

Sirius let out a breath, still refusing to look up.

“We…” Remus began, then sighed, pressing a quick, hard kiss to Sirius’ forehead. “We knew this was going to be…”

“Hard,” Sirius said, voice sounding rough. “I know.”

Remus raised his hand again, passing the alcohol over the cut before wrapping a pair towel around the cold pack. He went to raise it to Sirius’ mouth, but Sirius took it out of his hand. Remus tried not to let anything show on his face.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been being careful,” Sirius said quietly. “For either of us.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be as big of a deal as you think,” Remus ventured timidly.

Sirius looked at him then. His eyes were hard and sad. “You know that isn’t true.”

Remus opened his mouth but Sirius pushed on.

“I know what it’s like to get criticism for something that shouldn’t be criticized. My parents do it, and if they do it, then certainly strangers will. If I give an inch, if I let anyone in, they’ll take me apart.”

Remus stared at him.

Sirius clenched his teeth together, as if he hadn’t meant to say that much, and looked down again. “I won’t let them.”

Remus could barely breathe. He reached out hesitantly for Sirius’ cheek. “Sirius—”

But Sirius pushed himself down from the table, turning away and shoulders tight. “I, um.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said faintly. “We should talk later. You have the game. Good luck—”

But Sirius was already pushing out the door and back to the locker room.

Remus pressed his hands to the table, nails digging into the rubber cushion. He felt shaky and light headed. There were times when he forgot how much pain Sirius had been through. When he forgot just how good Sirius was at hiding it.

They lost against the Jets. Then again Edmonton. They pulled through at Calgary but just barely and Coach was furious, asking what happened. Sirius was off and Remus could see the other boys noticing. Sirius was normal to him in the locker room, if not a little reserved—but he was like that to everyone right now. Sirius still texted him good morning and goodnight. He had called him the night of their…Remus didn’t know if he would call it a fight, but he’d called to say he was sorry for storming out. Remus had barely even let him apologize. Sirius still texted little hearts and hockey emojis, sometimes random pictures of himself stretching, but Remus could tell he was spooked from doing anything while on the road again.

Remus knew he was right to be. But he missed Sirius’ warmth. He missed his laugh. He hated seeing Sirius’ frustration on the ice and the bench. The locker room had been quiet after Sirius had smashed his stick on the ice in the second period against Calgary. Hot-head, Sirius Black, the news kept repeating, always wondering, always asking if Sirius would crack under the pressure. Youngest Captain. Best player. Back from an injury. Snakes Rivalry.

And the list went on. There was so much they didn’t know. Abusive family. Not allowed to love who he wanted to. The weight of the world.

Remus threw his things down on his bed in Vancouver, rubbing his hands over his face. It was a little after six and all he wanted was to order dinner and go to sleep. Well. He wanted to see Sirius. But he would wait until they were home. He would wait, then kiss Sirius senseless, and let him know that Remus was still here for him. As best he could.

Remus was half way through his lasagna and an episode of Criminal Minds when there was a quiet knock at his door. Remus’ heart slammed into overdrive and he all but spilled his plate all over the white bedsheets in his haste to get up.

Sirius was waiting on the other side of the door, looking small and unsure.

Remus stepped aside wordlessly, knowing he wouldn’t want to talk in the hallway.

Remus leaned against the closed door. He waited for Sirius to speak, but he only stood there, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Remus pushed forward, pressing his hands gently to Sirius’ chest. “Hi, baby.”

All the tension seemed to melt from Sirius’ body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Re, I’m sorry. This is exactly what I didn’t want you to feel like, I’m so sorry—”

“Shh,” Remus hushed. “Sirius, I already told you that you don’t have anything to be sorry about.” Sirius made a protesting noise but Remus stopped him with a short kiss. “Of course you’re worried about it. Walker almost saw us, it was…it was sudden.”

“I get it if you want out,” Sirius whispered.

Remus started back. “I—want out?”

Sirius’ face looked pained.

“Sirius, did you forget what I said to you the other night?” Remus wasn’t mad, exactly, but he was a little hurt. He grabbed Sirius’ face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks. “Sirius. Come on. I…”

Sirius’ hands wrapped around Remus’ wrists. His eyes were a little red and he closed them, like he was holding everything back.

“Sirius—let go. Let go with me. I’m here for you, I—I really—you’re my…”

Sirius’ fingers tighten around Remus’ wrists. “I said that, but I didn’t mean I wanted you to go.”

“I’m not going. I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not,” Sirius said quickly, voice no louder than a whisper.

Remus shook his head. “Then what are we even talking about? I want you. I told you that I knew we would be behind closed doors. I told you that the very first day.”

Sirius nodded. “I—yeah.”

“So,” Remus smoothed his hands down Sirius’ neck to his shoulders. He shook his head. “I went in thinking we weren’t going to get to see each other too much on road trips. What we’ve done so far…maybe we got away with it as a little…as a way to ease us into it all.”

“Hiding, you mean,” Sirius said.

“Yes,” Remus nodded. “Do I wish we didn’t have to hide, of course, but do I understand why you don’t want this plastered all over every tabloid and blog? Of course. But you don’t have to hide with me. Tell me what I can do. Please.”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said quietly. “I don’t know, I just wish…” Sirius groaned, taking Remus’ face between his hands. “I want to—talk about you. Tell people how much I like you. I want to take you out. I want to kiss you on the bench, I want to take you to family skate and I want to hold your hand.”

Remus stared up at him, heart pounding. “Me too. I want that.”

“And I hate, I can’t stand myself because I’m scared of what people, people I don’t even know, might think. Because part of me thinks that if I tell the world that I want you, a boy, then they won’t give a shit how good my hockey is, something that means so much to me.”

Remus shook his head, trying to calm him. “I know, Pads, I understand—”

“But you mean so much, and hockey’s just a fucking—a fucking ball and stick—”

“No, it isn’t,” Remus said firmly. “It’s not. It’s—hockey’s love, too. For your team, for the way you feel when you score, for the Cup, for the fans, for the rivalry. The competition. Sirius, you’re allowed to love more than one thing at a time. I mean,” Remus flushed, realizing what he’d said. “Not that you…you love me, but—”

Sirius kissed him, slow and deep, as if trying to press Remus into himself.

When he pulled away, he pressed their foreheads together. “Maybe I’m just not brave.”

“Bullshit,” Remus said quietly. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

Sirius kissed one of Remus’ cheeks, then the other. Remus’ heart flipped.

“I’m sorry I ran out,” Sirius said. “And I’m sorry I didn’t come see you. We’re—we’re allowed to be friends, too, non?”

Remus smiled, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck. “How jealous would you be if I told you that I played video games with Kasey and Thomas the other night?”

Sirius made a pained noise and pressed his face into Remus’ neck while Remus laughed.

“So jealous,” Sirius whispered, kissing Remus’ jaw in a quick series of pecks. “So very jealous.”

“You’ll have to come next time.”

“Have to play the whole time, to keep my hands off of you.”

Remus laughed again, holding Sirius tighter. “We’ll work it out, okay? We will.”

Sirius nodded against Remus’ shoulder, then pulled back for a softer kiss. “We will.”

Pascal’s Christmas party was set to be held the day after the last game before break, tonight at 7:00, and the day before family skate. Remus’ family were flying in for the last game, and Pascal had waved him off when Remus said he might only be able to stay a little while at the party because his family was here for the holidays.

“Remus,” Pascal wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “So many families are coming. Logan’s, baby rookie Leo’s. Bring yours, they are welcome!”

And so that’s how Remus ended up shuffling on his feet in the airport, looking for the familiar faces of his parents and Julian as they got off the plane—looking forward to Julian’s face when he told him that they were all going over to Pascal Dumais’ house—where the entire team would be waiting.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Remus pulled it out. It was a picture of Logan laying sideways on what looked like a pull-out couch, giving the camera the finger.

Dumo made him give me his bed :P

Remus grinned, typing back. The things we do for our Captain.

He had just received a string of hearts when Remus heard his name being shrieked.

“Remus!”

Remus looked up to see Julian bounding towards him, backpack bouncing on his back. He was only just ready in time for Julian to launch himself at him in a bear hug.

“Jeez, Jules, did you grow six feet since Thanksgiving?” Remus squeezed his little brother hard, making him laugh, before setting him down and putting a hand on top of his head. “I swear you did.”

“I don’t know,” Julian said. “Did I?”

“Remus, baby!”

Remus looked up to see his parents approaching with their suitcases, his dad handling Julian’s.

“Hi, mom,” Remus smiled, letting her wrap him up in a tight hug. “Hope you guys aren’t too tired for the game tonight.”

“No, no, no,” Julian patted the Lions hat he was already wearing. “I’m not, I promise I’m not!”

Remus’ dad laughed. “I shouldn’t think so, you snoozed the whole flight.”

Remus walked with them to the rental car buildings and sat in the back with Julian for the ride back to his apartment, listening to every story about his hockey team that Julian could think of.

They got back into the heart of Gryffindor with about an hour to spare before Remus had to leave for the stadium, and about four hours before his family did.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you, Re?” his dad offered.

“No, dad, it’s okay,” Remus cleared his throat. “Um. Sirius is actually picking me up.”

“Sirius,” his dad repeated in surprise.

“What?” Julian said, his mouth hanging open.

“Sirius…” his dad said slowly. “Sirius Black.”

“Yep,” Remus said.

“The Captain of the Gryffindor Lions…gives you rides to games.”

Remus tried to laugh casually. “We’re friends.”

“Please,” Julian whispered, then he was up on his feet and hanging onto Remus’ arm. “Please let me come.”

“Jules, I’m working.”

“Please.”

Remus laughed, “Hey, listen, how about you come back to the locker room after the game again instead. Alright?”

“Are you sure that’s okay, sweetheart?”

Remus nodded at his mother. “Of course. Sirius would…Sirius would love it.”

Remus felt a sudden flash of what it would be like to talk to his parents about Sirius. About Sirius and him. It felt good. Really good.

Remus couldn’t say no to letting Julian come out to the parking lot with him, their mom in toe, when Sirius texted that he was here. Sirius had a beanie on, fingers drumming on the steering wheel to whatever song was playing, but when he saw them come out, he broke into a smile and rolled the window down as Julian bounded ahead towards the car, all shyness from their last meeting gone.

“Hi Sirius,” Julian said. fingers curling over the edge of the window. “Hi.”

“Hey, how’s it going, bud?” Sirius offered his gloved hand for a fist bump. “Coming to the game, eh? Excited for Christmas?”

“You’re going to take the Rangers down, I know it!” Julian grinned. “And yeah, I am!”

“Well, I’ll see you at the Christmas party, too, right?”

Julian turned wide eyes at Remus. “Party?”

Remus laughed, rolling his eyes. “Way to blow the surprise, Black.”

Sirius’ smile dropped. “Shit. Or, uh—fuck—no. Mon dieu, I’m so sorry,” he looked guiltily at Remus’ mother. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lupin.”

Hope laughed, waving him off with a little blush on her cheeks. “No, don’t worry. We’re a hockey family, he’s heard all those words before.” Then, she fixed Julian with a stern look. “And he knows not to use them.”

Julian nodded quickly.

“Okay, okay,” Remus said, waving to his mom and ruffling Julian’s hair. “See you guys after. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Sirius waved as he pulled out, and the second they were out on the road, Remus cracked up.

Sirius sent him wide, sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Re, fuck.”

“Both of your faces, oh my god,” Remus reached over and squeezed Sirius’ thigh. “Also, I think I broke my father when I told him you were picking me up.”

Sirius smiled, glancing over from the road. “Hey, I’m glad you’re coming to the party.”

“I’m excited. They’re excited, too. How is it at Pascal’s? You moved in early.”

“Celeste insisted. She said the holidays start when they play holiday music at the rink, so,” Sirius shrugged. “Here I am.”

They pulled into the Hogwarts parking lot, Sirius stopping at the gate to sign some jerseys for fans waiting there. A few recognized Remus from the bench and said hello. Remus waved, slightly awkwardly, back.

“Your famous, Loops,” Sirius laughed as he pulled into a spot and shoved the car into park.

“Fuck off,” Remus shoved his shoulder and Sirius snorted. Remus pressed his hand over Sirius’, inching his fingers under the cuff of his suit to stroke over the soft, inside of his wrist. “Good luck, alright? No fighting when I’m not allowed to kiss it better.”

Sirius’ smile was radiant and he leaned down, below the cusp of the back seats, and kissed Remus’ palm gently. He looked up at him, eyes soft. “Mon loup.”

Remus’ heart stuttered. “What?” he asked faintly.

Sirius smiled squeezing Remus’ hand. “Mon loup. My wolf. It’s perfect, non? Like Loops, but…my own.”

Remus took a long, slow breath. “God, you are making it so hard not to kiss you right now.”

Sirius glanced out the back window. The player’s garage looked empty. “Then do it.”

Remus glanced, too, making sure there really was no one in sight, and then curled a hand behind Sirius’ head and pulled him in, kissing him hard.

“Mon loup,” Sirius said, lightly biting Remus’ lower lip. “Mon choupinet.”

“What’s that,” Remus whispered, kissing Sirius again, licking into his mouth.

Sirius pressed a hand to Remus’ knee, smoothing it up his inner thigh. “Don’t know translation,” Remus cut him off with another kiss, straining over the center consul. “My darling,” Sirius gasped. “Maybe that works…”

Remus felt as if he hadn’t kissed Sirius in years. He felt hot with it, a burning simmering low in his stomach.

Sirius’ hand smoothed back to his knee, a safer distance, really, and he pulled back with a shaky laugh. “Okay. We should go if you don’t want me to take you in the backseat.”

Remus groaned and thunked his head back against the seat. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Here we go.”

Sirius laughed and squeezed his thigh before getting out of the car.

Remus took another breath. “Here we go.” He followed.

‘Gryffindor,” Frank Longbottom’s voice boomed in Hogwarts stadium, drawing out the words. “For the last time in 2020…Your Gryffindor Lions!”

The crowd went wild as the Lions skated out onto the ice one by one. The Rangers came out more quietly, keeping to their side of the rink. Remus liked the Rangers. They didn’t play dirty, and they were one of the best teams in the league this year, so beating them would mean something. Sirius was out in the center already, tracing the Lions logo with a puck. Remus could see phones pressed up to the glass, like always, filming him. Logan was over by the glass, talking and miming to a boy who had a sign that said Hey Tremzy, I’ll trade you candy for your stick! The boy war a too-big Tremblay jersey that fell to his knees, and a Lions hat on backwards. Logan shuffled back and forth on his skates for a minute, pretending to think about it, before tapping the glass, signaling he’d rather have the Reece’s than the sour strips. It took a few tries, but the boy finally got the packet over the glass, Logan smiling as he refused to let his dad help. Logan then lofted his stick over the glass easily. He gave a thumbs up, and bent for a quick selfie before skating away.

James made an awwing noise. “There’s no doubt the cameras caught that kid’s smile.”

Coach gave him a hard pat on the shoulder pad. “That’ll be your kid at the glass soon, eh, Pots?”

“I can’t talk about it, I’ll cry,” James laughed, then looked down with a smile, like he really was choked up.

Remus jostled his helmet and James looked back at him with a grin. “Lils says hi, by the way. She’s here tonight. Guess we don’t have a secret now.”

“Make sure she comes back to the Room,” Remus said happily. “Hey, are your parents here, too?”

“Not for the game, but they’re coming for the holidays. My father is incapable of passing up a chance to see Pascal Dumais,” James said as he jumped over the boards to skate a few laps and do the wrap around shoot on Kasey, who was in goal tonight. Finn was leaning on the boards, helmet off and talking closely with Leo who was sitting ready on the bench, just in case. Logan skated by and smacked Finn hard on the ass with his stick, making Finn shout and drawing him away to chase after him. Leo raised an eyebrow.

“And that’s going to be all over the internet,” James sighed with a laugh. “Alright, blue Gatorade, Loops, remember.”

“How could I forget,” Remus said wryly.

Remus’ eyes found Sirius again. He was laughing with one of the referees, nose scrunched up. Remus smiled softly at the sight.

“What’s with the face?” Leo asked.

Remus glanced at him. “Just…I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “Things have been rough with Cap, lately. He feels better now, eh?”

Leo nodded slowly, glancing at Sirius, then back at Remus. Yeah. No, yeah, you’re right.”

“How are you, Nut. I haven’t seen much of you, which I guess is a good thing.”

“I’m—you know.” He gestured around him, fiddling with his blocker. “This is insane. I didn’t—I didn’t know it would be like this. No one tells you.” Leo grinned, his accent dipping and dragging lightly.

Remus smiled, biting back the heavy feeling in his chest. “You’re definitely living the dream.”

“Bonne chance mes amies,” Sirius said as he stopped hard in front of the boards for the national anthem, throwing one leg over than the other in front of Remus. “Let’s take these blue boys down town, eh?”

“What a pep-talk,” James said, and Sirius shoved him. The lights went down for the anthem and Remus bowed his head along with the boys, smiling a little as he thought of Julian in the stands.

“Are you ready?” Frank said, and the lights came up. Remus raised his head and, for a split second, he caught Sirius’ eye. Sirius smiled.

“Okay?” he said, because he couldn’t say more. But Remus knew what he meant.

Remus nodded. “Go get ‘em.”

Sirius skated out for the first face-off against Mika Zibanejad. They nodded at the ref, then bent over, sticks ready. Remus watched Sirius’ eyes go completely focus, a steely gray. The puck dropped.

Sirius won the face off, much to the pleasure of the crowd, and stole it backwards into his own zone, floating for a minute, before snapping it to Finn. Finn darted around Strome before passing it back to Sergei when DeAngelo was on top of him.

“Hey, hey!” Remus could hear Sirius shout, calling for the puck as he wrapped around the edge of the rink, out skating Panarin to get into their zone. He tapped his stick hard on the ice twice to get Sergei’s attention, then checked Kreider with a shove of his arm, pinning him against the boards at the exact moment Sergei shot the puck back towards him. Sirius caught it beautifully, taking off towards Georgiev in the crease. He deked around Strome, and the goal horn lit up.

Logan stood, hollering. “Thirty seconds in, baby,” he pounded the boards with his glove. “Fuck yeah, number twelve!”

Remus’ head snapped towards him, towards Logan calling Sirius, baby. Well. Not in so many words, he guessed. There was still a strange flame up in his heart, hearing that word from someone else.

Sirius raised his gloves and stick for the goal, letting James and Finn slam into him in celebration.

Sirius skated by the bench for fist bumps before swinging over the boards. Remus reached forward and pressed a hand to his shoulder, letting his thumb brush the back of his neck. “Nice one, Captain,” He said over the crowd, and felt Sirius tense, then relax. Sirius turned and flashed him the brightest of grins.

The Lions’ next score was a power play goal, with two minutes left in the first period. Remus could practically hear Frank and Marlene talking up Sirius being put on the power play with two of the cubs, Logan and Finn. It was Logan’s slap shot, fed by Sirius around Brendan Lemieux, only just getting it passed him before Lemieux slammed Sirius into the boards. Remus only just had time to wince before Logan’s shot went bar down over Georgiev’s glove-hand. Finn got there first, slamming into Logan at full force, knocking their helmets together, his glove on the back of Logan’s neck. The Lions were up two to one by the time they were walking back down the tunnel for the first intermission.

“Black,” Coach said, motioning him over with two fingers. “You up for an interview with Skeets?”

Rita Skeeter was standing there, looking all too pleased and excited.

“Um,” Sirius dumped his gloves into the drying bin with a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Remus suppressed a smile as he watched Sirius take his helmet off. He bit his lip when he pushed his hair back from his face and went to stand warily opposite of Rita.

“So, Sirius,” she said with delight. “Your baby brother has been quite vocal recently! Any further response?”

Remus’ smile dropped from his face. He knew Sirius had been dealing with this. He just hoped that it would have stopped by now, become old news.

He watched Sirius take a breath. “Did you mean,” Sirius said with a small, tight smile. “‘Sirius, how do you feel about tonight’s power play?’”

Rita’s grin faltered. “Oh. Um, well—”

“Because, Rita,” Sirius propped his hands on the top of his stick. “I felt great about it. I thought the boys were strong and communicating out there. I like our chances in this game.”

Sirius walked off, and out of the lights.

James and some of the team, who were watching, snorted, hitting each other in silent amazement. James gave a loud woop before following Sirius back towards the locker room. Rita, to her credit, had taken it well and handed it back to Dean and Lee smoothly.

Remus wanted to kiss Sirius so bad that it made his head hurt.

The locker room was rowdy with their goals and Sirius’ interview, talking themselves up and ready for a win. Remus had texted his dad about their seats and received a short video of Julian going insane after Sirius’ goal. He copied it and sent it to Sirius for him to look at later.

Leo was standing over Logan who was looking up at him from where he was leaning against his stall. He had a small smile on his face as he wrapped some tape around a jammed finger. Leo said something that made him laugh and kick at Leo’s shin with his foot.

“Yo, Loops,” Finn said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’re outta tape, got any white for me?”

“Oh, yeah, give me two seconds.”

“Thanks, man.”

“For sure,” Remus smiled. He took one last look at Sirius, stripped down to his pads and sweaty with a towel around his neck. It was a sight he wasn’t keen on missing, but he wasn’t being paid to stare.

He held the door open for Coach, reading to get the boys back on the ice for second period, on his way back with Finn’s tape, and then made his way back to the rink where the crowds were settling back into their seats. He looked up at the big screen to see that they were playing some pre-recorded video that the media team had done with the boys. They had various facts up on the screen and some of the boys had to guess who it was about. Right then, the fact was, who has a vintage hockey equipment collection? They showed James first, glasses on and squinting at the camera.

“I don’t…” James’ voice and laugh echoed through the stadium. “Who the hell would…Is it Vans, is it Sergei?” James looked behind the camera for the answer, but then they cut to Finn and Leo, being interviewed together. Leo was chewing on his lip and Finn was look up, thinking.

“That sounds like a Sergei move,” Finn mumbled.

“Or Sunny,” Leo said. “Is it Henrik Sunqvist?”

“Oh, good one, Nut, is it Sunshine?”

The camera cut to Logan, who was smirking. “I think I have an unfair advantage to this question.”

That rose a response out of the crowd. It was a dead give-away.

“Huh,” Remus said to Coach. “I didn’t know that about Dumo.”

“It’s an incredible collection,” Coach responded excitedly. “Fascinating to see, really. I know he’d give you a tour if you asked. Maybe at Christmas.”

They showed a few more players; Evgeni jokingly saying Jackson, Timmy actually guessing Pascal, before they showed Pascal with a wide grin on his face.

“Yes, that’s me. One person guesses me?” Pascal laughed, making a tisking sound. “Well, Logan doesn’t count.”

There were a few more shots of the boys who hadn’t guessed Pascal kicking themselves, and then the screen was back to pumping up the crowd with countdowns and replays of the first period.

The boys skated back out for the second where the Rangers pulled up 3-2, a lead that they were able to keep until ten minutes into the third. Sirius was on the bench and Pascal’s line was out. Remus could hear Pascal call to Logan for the puck. The pass connected, and then Logan was flying back up the ice. Pascal’s pass was intercepted by Panarin who darted around both Sergei and Thomas Walker’s defense line. Remus could tell that he was lining up for a one timer when Kasey shot out of the goal in an insane poke-check, jabbing the puck right out from under his nose.

“Oh!” Sirius shouted, rising from the bench and hitting James. “Nice one, Kase!”

Finn nudged Leo. “You should start poke-checking, Nut.”

Leo smiled wryly. “Oh, I can poke-check.”

Finn got a dreamy sort of expression on his face for a moment, but then Sirius was turning towards Remus, hitting his glove against Remus’ stomach a few times. “iPad, iPad, iPad, please.”

Remus snorted, getting a little kick in his chest from the secret-feeling look Sirius shot him in thanks as he took the iPad and scrolled through the shifts. Logan heaved himself over the boards, sweaty and panting, and sat down on the bench beside Finn who tapped their helmets together.

“Good shift, Lo.”

Sirius leaned back and hit Logan softly in the back of the helmet. “Yeah, bud, good speed.” Then, he leaned over to James. “Pots, alright, see when Strome went here, we should have you following him up…”

Remus watched the third line, centered by Evgeni, tear out into the ice. Evgeni and Jackson were two of their strongest players together. They could read each other almost as well as Sirius and James could, and Remus watched as they hustled the puck back into the Rangers’ zone. It happened fast. Jackson shot to Evgeni, Evgeni to Evan, then back to Jackson. Jackson slapped it to where Evgeni was waiting by the net, and Evgeni tipped it in. 3-3.

“Nice, Kuny,” Sirius said as the line skated by the bench for glove taps. “Atta boy, Nado.”

Pascal got a wrap-around goal at two minutes, and the game was over—neat and encouraging.

“You know, you always wanna go into the new year with a W, and I think that’s exactly what was motivating us tonight,” Sirius said to the reporters gathered around his stall after the game. He was yet un-showered, sweaty towel wrapped around his neck and his lucky, sweat-stained hat on backwards to keep his hair from dripping into his face. “Yeah, I’m just proud of the boys and I think this is a really, you know, a really good way to take some time off, well deserved.”

“Any special plans for the holidays, Sirius?”

Sirius minutely raised an eyebrow at the thinly veiled question. Then, his eyes darted towards Remus. He looked at him for just a second, but Remus felt it to his very core. Sirius smiled. It was small, and rare to the press. Remus heard about twenty cameras go off at once.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Any time I get to spent with my friends and family is special.”

“And the team’s annual Christmas party, that’s at Dumo’s house, yeah?”

Sirius looked at the reporter. “What, you’re planning on crashing?”

Sirius smiled again at the laughs it raised from the crowd. Remus saw Finn and Logan shoot a surprised look at each other. The Captain was in a good mood.

“Yeah, for sure,” Sirius said, waving away the laughs. “Looking forward to it.”

“Alright,” Marlene stepped in, motioning the press towards the door. “That’s all folks, thanks a lot.”

Remus watched for a second, and then suddenly there was a hand covering his eyes and a voice in his ear.

“Guess who,” it said.

Remus grinned. “Lils.” He turned, eyes instantly widening. “Holy shit, Lily, look at you.”

“You like?” Lily laughed, turning to the side and running her hand over her baby bump. “Isn’t he cute? Already looks good in a jersey.” Lily tapped the A for assistant captain on her POTTER jersey she was wearing.

“You look incredible,” Remus pulled her in for a tight hug, then pulled back to stare down at the bump. “I mean, I know I’ve seen you over FaceTime and everything but this is something else.”

“Lily Evans,” Pascal walked up to stand beside Remus. He was sweaty still and careful about leaning in to press a kiss to both of Lily’s cheeks. “Mon cher.”

“Pascal,” Lily beamed. “You better get Celeste to tell me all of her tips and tricks.”

Pascal laughed. “The trick is love and kindness. I know you are already overflowing in that. Also, the occasional candy bribe.”

Remus laughed. “I think that still works on some of these guys.”

“Facts,” Finn said, walking by to the showers, naked. “Sup, Lils.”

“Nice ass, O’Hara,” Lily said.

“Hey, you can’t say that,” James appeared, wrapping an arm around Lily. “Hi, babe.”

“Good game, lover,” Lily said, leaning up for a quick kiss.

“Our boy’s a good luck charm.”

“If he can’t come to every single game, I’d be careful what you say,” Sirius called from his stall, un-taping his socks. He balled up the tape and chucked it in their direction. “Hey, Loops, où est ta famille?”

“Oh,” Remus smiled slowly. “I just have to go get them.”

They were down the hall waiting excitedly, guest passes hung around their necks.

“Hey guys,” Remus said. “Ready?”

“Fantastic game, bud,” Lyall said. “What a zinger at the end there, eh?”

“We’ve been really pulling through lately, yeah,” Remus grin. His chest always warmed when his parents insisted on congratulating him on a game. As if he’d played.

“Oh, why don’t you just take Julian in, sweetheart,” his mother said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes, of course. He really loves the locker room and we’ll see everyone at the party, won’t we, dear?”

Remus’ father nodded. “Jules might explode if you don’t go soon, so…”

Remus laughed. “Well, alright. C’mon, you little monster.”

“I’m not,” Julian laughed, and Remus wrestled him into a head lock before opening the locker room door for him.

“Whoa-ho,” James said from where he was standing by the door with Lily. “The Captain’s back.” He held his fist out for a bump. “Hey, man.”

“Hi, Pots,” Julian said, a little quietly, but he was smiling. Then, his eyes shifted somewhere behind him and he hit Remus’ side a few times. “Re, Re, Re.”

“What?” Remus followed his gaze to see that Logan and Leo seemed to be having some sort of mock boxing match with nothing but their towels and gloves on.

“Yep,” Remus said. “If you’re gonna ask me what they’re doing, I have no idea.”

Julian seemed entranced though, and Remus laughed and shuffled him out of the way of some of the other players heading towards the showers.

Pascal, throwing his dirty jersey in the laundry bin in the center of the room, stopped when he saw Remus. “What is this? Remus, you didn’t tell me you had a twin.”

“Dumo,” Remus heard Julian whisper.

Pascal laughed and bent down in front of Julian. “Bonsoir. What’s your name?”

“Julian.”

“Julien? Est-ce que tu parles français, Julien?”

Julian shook his head vigorously. “No, sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I bet you play hockey though, non?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a center.”

“Ah, like me. Like our Captain,” Pascal poked the C on Julian’s jersey. “Are you in need of more jerseys, Julien? I hear this player, number twelve, is old news.”

Julian looked at once excited by the mention of jerseys and vastly offended at the insult to Sirius.

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

Julian’s head whipped around to where Sirius was standing.

“What’s up, Jules,” Sirius said.

Remus had to carefully control his face at Sirius calling Julian his nickname. He pressed a hand to the top of Julian’s head, glad for the excuse to beam at Sirius.

“Hi, Pads,” Julian said, sounding a little like his father’s prediction might have been right, that Julian might just combust from happiness.

Finn, walking behind Sirius from the showers, did a double take and froze, staring at Julian with just as much awe as Julian was staring at him.

“Remus,” Finn said slowly. “Do you have…a child?”

“What?” Remus laughed. “No, Harz, this is my brother.”

“This is Julian,” Sirius said. “Jules, this is Harzy.”

“I know,” Julian had his jersey sleeves gathered in his hands.

“Wow, I am so glad I’m wearing a towel,” Finn said, almost to himself, before very seriously holding out a fist for Julian to bump. “Mr. Lupin.”

Julian laughed and met his fist. Finn pretended to wince and shake his hand out, smiling with a wink as he walked away.

“Alright, Jules, we should let everyone get dressed, eh?”

“Hey, hey, hey, hang on a second,” Sirius went to his locker and pulled out the sweatshirt he usually cooled down in, throwing it on. “Gotta have my good luck charm for my cool down, eh?”

And that’s how Remus ended up watching from the gym doorway as Sirius talked to his baby brother, asking him any and every questioned as he stretched, and Julian imitating any move he made.

James appeared at Remus’ shoulder while Sirius and Julian were both seated on the ground touching their toes.

“He totally has a girlfriend,” James whispered.

Remus looked at him. “What makes you say that?”

“No offense to your brother, but a sudden interest in kids? When did that happen? Trust me, he’s got baby fever. I’d know. When I found out Lily was pregnant, suddenly I had to say hello to every baby I saw. Like every baby.”

Remus laughed. “Uh, yeah, maybe.”

“I just…” James sighed. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me, I mean…I’m so happy that he’s happy. And I can tell you know? Only he always denies it and that just…I don’t know.”

Remus looked down at his hands. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t conjure the words.

“Hopefully he brings her to Dumo’s, eh?”

“Yeah,” Remus choked out. “Yeah, for sure.”

Remus showed up at Pascal’s house with his family a little late. His mother had been slow getting ready, at little nervous, and then his father had misplaced the car keys. Julian had been a puddle of longing in the living room until they had turned out onto the road, finally.

Remus closed his car door, heart pounding, and he didn’t really know why.

“All good?”

His dad held up the bottle of wine they’d brought with a grin. “All good.”

They walked up the path and Remus knocked on the door.

“Remus,” Celeste greeted them with Katie on her hip. She looked elegant in her green, long-sleeved dress. “Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, bonsoir, please come in!”

“Hi, Celeste,” Remus said, accepting a kiss on both cheeks.

“Yo, Loops!”

Remus jumped a little. “Uh, hi, Tremz.”

Tremz waved vigorously at him from the sliver of the living room he could see, and Leo sent him an apologetic look. Celeste laughed.

“We are all…well into the night, you might say,” she leaned in. “A little tipsy, non?”

“Except for me,” Lily walked up and wrapped her arms around Remus. “I’m living through James.” She smiled. “Hi, Hope, hi Lyall, good to see you again. Hey, Julian!”

Julian was quickly commandeered by the other children, a charge led by the Dumais’ kids. Apparently there was a pick-up game going on in the basement somewhere.

“I want one of him,” Lily sighed happily, before following his parents, who were whisked away by Celeste to the kitchen for drinks, and Remus found himself suddenly alone in the entry way, hanging up their coats.

“Hi.”

Remus looked up as he closed the closet door. Sirius was standing there, leaning against the doorway with his ankles crossed. He was wearing a forest green sweater, nothing like anything Remus had never seen him wear before, and dark jeans with white adidas on. His hair was fluffy, no doubt having been wet from the snow earlier, and with no hat to hold it down it curled around his ears and over his forehead sweetly. He looked soft in the yellow lights, and warm. Remus hadn’t kissed him, hadn’t so much as touched him, in the days since his parents arrived. It was only a two days but…the sight of him sent a small shiver through him.

“Hi,” Remus said faintly. He walked the few steps between them and stood close to Sirius, out of sight of the inner rooms.

“Good break so far?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have Jules around again. You?”

Sirius nodded. “Dumo’s kids are sweet. Logan, not so sweet.”

Remus laughed and so did Sirius.

“Lots of video games,” Sirius finished. “A good break, but…”

Remus heard the I miss you without him having to say it. It was a text he received every morning and every night.

“Did I miss Jules?”

“Oh, you’ll see him. He’ll come looking for you soon enough once he wonders why he’s playing with a bunch of kids when Sirius Black and Logan Tremblay are upstairs.”

“Also at family skate, oui?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded, and then took a breath, glancing into the living room for a moment. “I have something for you.”

Sirius’ eyebrow went up. “Oui?”

“Mhm. A Christmas gift.”

“Is this something I get while we are alone?” Sirius asked, voice low.

Remus snorted. “Well, this one comes in a box. But you can have that, too, I assure you.”

Sirius grinned. “I have something for you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s in a box, too, but I’d be more than happy to follow it up with something else,” Sirius reached out, fingers pinching the hem of Remus’ gray sweater softly. “Will you find me upstairs later? An hour, maybe? Give people time to drink a bit more.”

Remus glanced around the room. “Pads, we almost got caught. Remember how you felt then. Are you sure?”

Sirius gave his head a small shake. “It’s just a present. Besides, I need you.”

Remus let out a breath. This felt like both the best and the worst place to be meeting alone. Everyone here was their friend, their family, but that worked against them just as much as it worked for them. Remus thought of his unsuspecting parents in the other room. He thought of his own bed, which felt too large now that he had become used to Sirius in it.

“I’ll kiss you in an hour,” he said.

“You better.”

Remus wandered into the kitchen for a drink while Sirius went back into the living room. He wasn’t just here for Sirius, even if that was what it felt like. He liked seeing the rest of the boys outside of work.

Leo and Logan where there, Leo trying to dissuade Logan from another glass of wine, and Logan trying to persuade Leo into one more.

“Letting loose, eh, Tremz?” Remus laughed as he poured himself some.

“It is Christmas,” Logan said. “C’est Noel!”

“What?” A girl turned around from where she had been talking to Thomas—who looked like he was sweating.

“Not you,” Logan said, pressing his palm to the girl’s face, who punched him in the arm in return. “Ow.”

Remus raised an eyebrow and Logan waved him off.

“My sister.”

“Oh, I didn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, there’s two others around here somewh—” Logan cut off sharply. His face froze for a moment, then went sort of blank.

For a second, Remus worried it was something to do with the alcohol, but then he realized that Logan was staring at something behind him. Remus turned around, and was a little bewildered when all he saw was Finn, having just arrived. He was smiling and holding hands with a girl.

“Hey guys,” he said.

“Hey Harzy,” Remus said, then glanced at the girl.

“Oh, this, um. This is June.”

June waved, revealing a bright smile. Her curly hair was piled on top of her head and the white sweater she was wearing set off her tanned skin nicely.

Remus held out his hand. “Remus.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said. Remus watched her glance at Logan and Leo. “What’s up, Leo.”

“Hey, June,” Leo smiled, but it looked a little tight. “Good to see you again.”

“What,” Logan said faintly. Then he flushed, like he hadn’t meant to say it.

“Lo,” Finn said, sounding—a little nervous actually. “Um. Yeah, this is June. I hoped you guys would meet earlier but, you haven’t been around to me and Nut’s place in a while, so.”

Logan stared for long enough that Remus had just begun to feel awkward, and then said a faint. “Hi.”

“Man, Lo,” Leo laughed and it sounded loud in the small space. “Had a bit too much wine, alright, let’s all go into the living room.” He smiled brightly at June. “You can meet the rest of the boys. Let’s go y’all.”

“Excuse me,” Logan said. He set his glass down hard and disappeared through the door leading into the basement, to his room.

They hovered there for a moment, unsure of what had just happened.

“I’ll go make sure he’s,” Leo began vaguely. “He’s had a lot to drink,” he finished looking more at Finn.

“Yeah,” Finn said, face looking pale and conflicted. He turned back to June when Leo followed Logan down to his room. “C’mon J, I want you to meet Lily. Also hopefully Cap is around here somewhere.”

“He’s in the living room,” Remus offered, still glancing at the basement door.

They turned, and Remus only just heard June say something along the lines of, “Was that him?”

Remus went to find Sirius—maybe a little early. The walk up the staircase felt like deja vu, like when he had gone looking for a bathroom at Sirius’ house on Halloween. Only, this time, he was looking for what he had found that time. And Sirius would be looking for him.

He found the guest bedroom where he and Sirius had first kissed. Where he had first felt Sirius in his arms. He brushed his hands over the quilted bedspread before going to the window. The snow was illuminated in the street lamps. The mulled wine and cider wafted up from the kitchen, along with laughter. It felt like Christmas.

“Looks like we’re both early,” Sirius’ voice came from behind him.

Remus smiled and turned around. Sirius was in the doorway, turning the lock on the door behind his back.

“Why were you upstairs?” Remus asked. “On Halloween. When you found me in your room.”

“I saw you go upstairs,” Sirius said simply, and then he walked forward. He pressed into Remus’ space, hands moving to his hips. “I would have done anything to be alone with you back then. Including follow up upstairs in my own house, where I knew where the downstairs bathrooms were.”

Remus laughed, winding his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Oh, yeah? Only back then?”

Sirius shook his head, bending to let their lips only just brush together. “Any time. All the time.”

“Do you know its been almost three months?” Remus whispered, leaning into to press a soft, barely there kiss to Sirius’ mouth. “Three months since you told me that you wanted me. Two months since we kissed.”

“I’m offended that you think I could forget these things,” Sirius’ hands were warm as he pressed them under Remus’ sweater and shirt, against his back. Sirius let out an unsteady breath. “I could never forget, Remus.”

Remus’ chest felt too small, he pulled Sirius tighter to him. “Baby.”

Sirius’ smile was soft and cut off by his kiss, his fingers firm against Remus’ jaw.

“I could kiss you forever,” Sirius whispered.

“Do it,” Remus replied, and his voice sounded high to himself, turned on and—

Maybe in love.

Remus gasped as Sirius pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Do it,” Remus breathed. His hands wound through Sirius’ hair, and he kissed him.

Remus forgot the night. Sirius’ mouth was hot and it tasted like the cinnamon in the cider. He pressed his hands against Remus’ lower back and held him close.

“I know we can’t do much right now,” Sirius said. “But I want to kiss you. I want—I want to know you’re with me even when I alone.”

Remus could barely breathe. He reached up, knuckles trailing across Sirius’ cheek. “I am with you.”

Sirius smiled down at him. “Mon Loup.”

“C’mere,” Remus pulled Sirius down, bringing their mouths back together.

Sirius leaned into it, sucking on Remus’ lip for a moment before breaking to trail wet kisses down the side of Remus’ neck. “How much time do you think we have before people start wondering where we are?”

“Not enough,” Remus panted. “Five minutes. Where the hell did this sweater come from?”

“Like it?” Sirius nipped at his bottom lip. “I bought it for you.”

“Sirius Black,” Remus laughed as Sirius cut him off with a kiss, and it turned into a soft moan. “Went shopping for me?”

“Do anything for you.”

Remus pressed his fingers against Sirius’ toned stomach, warm from the cashmere wool. “New Year’s,” Remus said. “I want to kiss you on New Year’s.”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss. “At midnight.”

“At midnight,” Remus whispered.

“I think I can pull that off,” Sirius pressed a few dragging, slow kisses against Remus’ lips. “Close your eyes, mon loup.”

Remus smiled, head tilting back against the wall as he closed his eyes. Remus felt Sirius’ hands take one of his own from beneath his sweater. All was still for a moment, and then there were lips on the inside of his wrist.

Remus sucked in a breath, and then something cool was being wrapped around his wrist.

Remus opened his eyes to see a simple watch. It was nothing like anything Sirius would have purchased for himself. Nothing flashy, not even all that shiny. A muted silver, with a simple face and leather band. It ticked gently.

“Pads…”

“Look,” Sirius said quietly. He unfastened it and flipped it around. Remus reached out and ran his fingers over the words engraved there, the words that would always be pressed against his skin.

Mon vœu.

“My wish,” Sirius translated, although Remus had known. His voice had caught the moment he had read them. Sirius looked at Remus with open, silver eyes. “Remus…for now, the words are only for you. But,” Sirius fastened the watch around Remus’ wrist once more, and tapped the face of it. “It’s only a matter of time. I want…us.”

Sirius bit his lip for a moment, eyebrows drawing together before he pressed a palm to Remus’ neck, thumb stroking along his jaw. “Re. Please wait for me. I wasn’t asking before, I never wanted you to feel like you were tied down to anything. I’m asking now.”

Remus felt the press of tears behind his eyes. Instead of responding, he reached into his own back pocket, grasping something.

“Close your eyes,” Remus rasped out.

Sirius did so, dark eyelashes fanning out across his cheeks. Remus reached up and smoothed the stressed furrow on his forehead with his thumb, then leaned up to press a kiss there.

Remus withdrew the necklace and let the cool chain fall around Sirius’ neck. Sirius opened his eyes, eyes darting down to the pendant.

“Twelve,” he said.

“To anyone else, yes,” Remus brushed his fingers over the fairly small numbers one and two resting beside each other. “But one is silver, and one is gold. I,” Remus let out a slightly watery laugh. “I don’t know if it’s that easy to understand, but—”

“Half,” Sirius whispered. “Half is gold. Half is silver. Half of twelve is—” Sirius blinked and his eyes shone. “Six.”

Remus nodded silently, and then Sirius was kissing him again, hard and desperate.

“You never had to ask,” Remus said against his lips. “I was always going to wait.”

Sirius’ laugh was giddy and soft and he pulled Remus in around the waist and hugged him.

They knew they would be missed and that the food would be put out soon, and so Sirius brushed his fingers through Remus’ hair, and Remus smoothed Sirius’ clothes.

“Handsome,” Remus said, and took a breath. “Okay, ready.”

Sirius just looked at him, face open and radiant. He raised his new necklace to his lips and kissed it. Then, he tucked it into his shirt and opened the door, letting the sounds of the party back in.

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seasonofthewicth · 4 years

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 1

A Throne of Glass x New Girl fanfic. Rowaelin. No warnings.

masterlist

AN: This first chapter is heavily inspired by the first episode of New Girl but this fic will diverge from the show in the future!

-----

Aelin looked up from her phone screen to the large brick building in front of her. Squinting in the sunlight, she took in the old warehouse with its rustic, evenly spaced square windows.

She looked back down to her phone, her text conversation with her cousin Aedion left open. Loft 4D, his message read. She tried the entrance to the building, but the rusty door wouldn’t budge.

Sighing, she tapped call on Aedion’s contact.

“Hello?” His voice came through the tinny speakers of her phone.

“Hey Aedion, it’s Aelin. I think I’m outside.” She peered through the glass of the door, looking for any sign of the golden haired man.

“Oh, right, one second,” The phone clicked as the call ended. She pulled her phone away from her ear, staring at it puzzledly.

“Aelin!”

As she reopened her phone to make the call again the shout rang out from above and she squinted back up at the building to a now open window a few floors up. Aedion peered out of the window waving enthusiastically at her.

“We’ll buzz you up now, fourth floor.”

She raised a thumb towards him and stepped inside when she heard the click of the door.

She hadn’t seen Aedion in a few months, the last time being at a family event hosted by one of the endless Ashryver relatives, but they were friendly enough for cousins. She hadn’t expected his message the day before, offering her the spare room in his loft, but she supposed her mother must have let slip the situation Aelin was in and Aedion was generous enough to extend the offer.

The situation Aelin was in was the result of her cheating, now ex-boyfriend Arobynn. He had been away travelling for a few months and Aelin had prepared for his return by slipping into something silky and small and setting herself up in their house to surprise him.

She hadn’t prepared for the short, curvy woman he had returned with.

Not thirty minutes later Aelin had been in a cab, cursing Arobynn to hell. Most of her belongings were shoved in two duffel bags on the seat next to her as she made her way to her best friend Lysandra’s apartment, ultimately homeless.

As the elevator pulled to the fourth floor, Aelin took in her reflection of the elevator door. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, then untucked it again. It was only Aedion and his roommates, and she just needed a room.

She’d known a couple of Aedion’s roommates from previous birthday events of his own, but not greatly. She scowled briefly at the thought of Lorcan, the grumpy, giant of a man, who her previous interactions with had all ended with snarled insults, but it was harmless. At least to her, she couldn’t begin to understand what went through the raven-haired man’s mind.

She stepped out of the elevator to the hallway just as the door to loft 4D was pulled open. The first thing she spotted were the swirling lines of an elegant tattoo, creeping up the arm holding the door handle.

Rowan Whitethorn, Aedion’s college roommate who she had met maybe once or twice, held the door open, smiling at her slightly. Her eyes tracked up his muscular arms to the broad planes of his chest and shoulders stretching the plaid shirt he wore tightly. His tanned skin peeked out from the collar of the shirt setting off his silver hair nicely. She swallowed before opened her mouth.

“Hey,” She started. “Thanks for having me.”

“Not a problem,” His voice was low and gravelly, but he cleared his throat as he lifted his arm, stretching behind himself into the loft beyond. “Come in, the others are in the living room.”

She smiled and ducked past him through the doorway into the short hallway of the apartment. She heard Rowan shut the door but was spotted by Aedion who grinned as he bounded over from the open living area, a mug of coffee gripped tightly in his hand.

“Aelin! Glad you’re here, how you doing?” He swept her into a tight hug but drew back as he seemed to realise his mistake. His face twisted awkwardly as he leaned back. “Apart from, you know…” He trailed off releasing her fully.

“Don’t,” She groaned but laughed it off shaking her head and turned to smile at the others in the room.

Lorcan was sat on the end of the brown leather couch, his dark hair hanging over his shoulders, arms crossed, and legs stretched out in front of him. He offered her a brief nod as Aedion reintroduced them.

“Lorcan, you know, and of course Rowan.”

The two men acknowledged their introductions, but her attention was drawn to the only male she hadn’t already met.

In the space next to Lorcan, a blonde man with golden skin dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose t-shirt reclined into the sofa, both arms draped along the back. He offered her a wide smile and a hand to shake in greeting.

“I don’t think you’ve met Fenrys.” Aedion smiled widely, taking his seat next to the new introduction, followed by Rowan.

“Great to meet you,” Fenrys offered taking her hand in his own.

She shook Fenrys’ hand with a smile and crossed the room to the remaining seat, a single chair facing the couch. She smoothed her skirt down as she sat, readying herself for the inquisition.

-----

When Vaughan moved out of the loft to move cross-country with his girlfriend, Rowan assumed they would use the spare room as maybe a home office for Aedion, or a work-out space for Fenrys. His recent obsession with training them all to practice his coaching for his job at the nearby high school wasn’t going down well so far in the oddly shaped space remaining in the living area. But, Rowan hadn’t objected when Aedion asked them if he could offer it to his cousin who was in need of a room.

Rowan had been friends with Aedion since their first year of college and had lived with him for most of the eight years since then. Their friendship was easy, despite a rocky start, since the collision of Aedion’s bubbly personality and Rowan’s quiet demeanour had initially resulted in a stiff acquaintanceship until an incident in their freshman year had led Rowan to view the other male as more of a brother. Not that he would ever admit it.

The first time he had met Aedion’s cousin, Aelin, he was a shy, nineteen-year-old and Aedion had introduced them at his own nineteenth birthday party thrown at his parents’ home in Terrasen. He remembered stammering his hello to eighteen-year-old Aelin, stunned by her bright blue eyes and golden hair that matched Aedion’s.

He hadn’t spoken much to her that first time, he’d been nervous and intimidated by the confident, beautiful young woman, but he had met her a few more times since and they had been cordial each time in their brief exchanges.

He didn’t mind a new roommate, especially when it would mean his own rent wouldn’t increase. Not that he would struggle to cover the increase, with the extra shifts he had been picking up at the bar since the break-up with Lyria six months ago.

Lyria. His on-again-off-again girlfriend of three years. They had finally called it off-again for good recently and he considered himself to be doing well in not texting her again for the first time. This break-up felt different to the previous ones.

As he took his seat next to Aedion he observed the girl sitting opposite them all. She had definitely matured in the years since he had last seen her, more a woman than a girl now. Her golden hair fell in soft waves to her middle, and her body had settled into its gentle curves from the slimness of her teens when they had first met. The loose dress she wore fit the muggy Adarlan summer air, as well as bringing out the gold ring in her blue eyes.

“So,” Aedion began, “We know you need a room. Do you have any, uh, questions for us?”

Rowan smoothed his hands down his jeans, waiting for the list of questions he was sure Aelin would have.

“Um,” She started, unsure, “The bathroom. Is there only one? What’s the deal on that?”

Rowan heard Lorcan snort and felt the shaking of Fenrys’ laugh beside him. The bathroom rota, devised by Aedion, sick of being late for work when one of the others took too long, had been a point of contention in the loft since its introduction a year ago. It was mostly followed now, with only minor complaints.

They each had twenty minutes allocated from six-thirty in the morning, but Rowan’s were often up for grabs. He didn’t need them that early when most days he got back from the bar past midnight and didn’t wake up until the others had all left for work.

He knew Aelin was a teacher, like Fenrys, so maybe she could take his allocation. It seemed Aedion was on the same wavelength.

“There’s a schedule,” He said with an almost imperceptible level of embarrassment, but Aelin seemed to hear it too as the corner of her mouth drew up in a teasing smile. Rowan didn’t let himself stare too intensely at her mouth.

“Okay great,” She drawled mockingly. “I’m used to the rush getting ready for work from living with Arobynn.” She looked down at that but waved a hand as if she could beat the thought away.

“Aww Ae,” Aedion said. “Don’t be sad over that asshole. You can just get drunk and forget about him, it’s what Rowan’s been doing over Lyria.”

Rowan’s head shot up at that, glaring at Aedion who was barely even trying to hide his grin.

He sighed, it wasn’t that he had been drinking to get over Lyria, he just worked in a bar. Where there was alcohol that he could drink and at the same time he has been getting over Lyria. Two completely separate things.

Aelin seemed to look at him in understanding and then shrugged.

“I’m down for that,” she said. “It will make a change from crying over Dirty Dancing.”

All four of them groaned at that.

“There won’t be any of that in this living room.” Lorcan stated, in a tone that Rowan wouldn’t even try and debate with. Lorcan probably wouldn’t fight over Dirty Dancing but he couldn’t be sure.

“Dirty Dancing is a sure fire way to get over a break-up,” Aelin said defensively.

Rowan laughed shaking his head at the dynamics already building for the loft, this would surely be fun.

-----

Aelin knew she didn’t have to defend herself to Lorcan, especially not over a film that she was confident in her enjoyment of, but she couldn’t resist winding him up.

She continued. “I need the boost especially considering now basically all of my friends are models.”

Years of being friends with Lysandra had almost numbed Aelin to her beauty, her flowing dark hair and piercing eyes captivated many, not to mention her sizeable breasts. It was what Aelin supposed, made her so successful in her career. Though she knew her best friend was attractive it didn’t normally make her feel insecure but the recent break-up had been a knock to her confidence, but she knew it wouldn’t last long.

Fenrys coughed, leaning forwards, suddenly very interested. “All of your friends are models?”

Aelin nodded and watched Fenrys. His fingertips formed a triangle as his elbows rested on his knees.

“Excuse us, I need to have a word with my boys.” He gestured for the others to follow him to the kitchen.

Rowan and Aedion shifted. Rowan dug Fenrys lightly in the side, narrowing his eyes, but Fenrys just wiggled his eyebrows at Rowan in return.

“My boys.” Lorcan muttered “That is not a thing.” But uncrossed his arms and stood to lead the way to the kitchen.

Aelin couldn’t hear what followed, but it seemed to involve some pleading from Fenrys with Rowan and Lorcan looking varying degrees of uncomfortable. She definitely caught Fenrys mouth the word models, as his arms jerked out, hands splayed wide, but she looked away and took in the rest of the loft.

The open plan living room was surprisingly homely for a group of men in their mid-twenties, with a worn-looking brown-leather sofa with a number of patterned pillows and throws draped along. The wooden dining table behind looked worn but sturdy, with a few odd items left haphazardly on the top.

It was also surprisingly clean. She supposed that’s probably Aedion’s influence, not that the others were slobs, but Aedion had always been a meticulous cleaner, and hideously organised.

After some more hushed whispers the men turned and slotted back into the living room. Each took up the spot they had occupied before.

“We,” Rowan waved a hand between the members of the group “just have a few questions we need to ask. Logistics.” He directed a pointed look in Fenrys’ direction.

“You don’t have pets do you?” Lorcan asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“You don’t keep weird hours like Rowan do you?” Fenrys chimed in with a scowl at Rowan who raised his hands.

“No,” She replied with a laugh, “The youth of Adarlan test my patience regularly enough for me not to risk going to work without enough sleep.”

They all nodded along.

“And you can move in right away?”

“Yes, as soon as possible. I don’t think Lysandra’s roommate likes me.”

Manon Blackbeak had lived with Lysandra for years, and had always seemed the quiet type to Aelin, seeming to keep to herself. She was stunningly beautiful, as all of Lysandra’s model friends were, but her personality didn’t seem to match. Moving in with them, Aelin had seen a new side to the golden-eyed woman. A side that was particularly unhappy that Aelin and most of her belongings were covering the small space of Lysandra and Manon’s living room. It was why she needed a new place. Fast.

“Okay, great.” Aedion said, smiling at her “We’d love for you to move in as soon as you’re ready.”

She couldn’t hold back her own grin, relieved at how easy it had been with this group of males.

Hello, Loft 4D.

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This is the first fanfic I’ve posted for Throne of Glass! I hope you enjoy I’m very excited for this!

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aedion ashryver #lysandra #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #manon blackbeak #aelin x rowan #aedion x lysandra #rowaelin fic #agkol #a groovy kind of love

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