#How Win Your Ex Back Stunning Useful Ideas

[artficlly]

lessons in lovemaking [part three]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, handjobs, fondling, nudity, fem reader, bucky is touch starved, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, sparring, training, mentions of alcohol, natasha cares, injury, blood, reader is lowkey depressed, trauma, mentions of past violence and death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: hey if you have dejavu seeing this, it's because the other post is glitched for some reason and some people aren't able to see it, i think it's to do with there being over 30 people on the taglist. i'll have to come up with a solution for that. in the meantime, pls enjoy and hopefully this post is actually visible!. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

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"Go for the left."

Kate blinked. "The left?"

"Yes."

She looked from you to Bucky, eyebrows raised like you’d asked her to charge a bear with a toothpick. "We’re talking about the left? The metal freaking arm left?"

"That’s the one."

The look she gave you was flat-out incredulous. "Are you serious? Isn’t that the last place I should be aiming?"

You resisted the urge to sigh. "That’s exactly why you should aim there. Everyone goes for his right. They assume it’s weaker. Bucky knows that. He’s trained to defend that side, conditioned even. But the left? Sure, it’s strong. That doesn’t make it invulnerable. Watch him."

You nodded toward Bucky, shadowboxing in the centre of the mat, relaxed but precise, like a predator keeping his muscles warm. "See how he braces before a punch? That slight weight shift? It’s a habit. Subtle but predictable. It leaves a small window, but just enough. Learn to spot that, and you can drop someone twice your size."

Kate’s expression turned thoughtful, eyes narrowing as she studied Bucky more intently. "Okay… so how do you get good at spotting weaknesses like that?"

"Learn to observe. Don’t rush in swinging. Patience and preparation will win a fight long before your fists do."

Kate nodded slowly, rolling her shoulders. "Alright. Let’s see if I can prove you right."

She took a step forward, then hesitated, glancing back at you with a sheepish grin. "I am a little scared, though—"

You gave her a flat look. "Just go, Kate."

She groaned but turned back toward Bucky, stepping onto the mat with a reluctant sort of determination.

It was late afternoon, and golden light poured through the gym windows in long, drowsy streaks. Dust drifted lazily in the sunbeams, but the air was thick with tension—not the kind that came from training, but from something far more complicated. Natasha and Yelena had thought it hilarious to pair you not only with Kate for sparring but also with Bucky. You had no doubt they were watching from the sidelines, smirking into their water bottles. Those two were always scheming.

Natasha hadn’t said anything to you yet, but then again, you’d been avoiding her like the plague since yesterday’s meeting. She was too sharp, too perceptive not to pick up on the subtle shifts in both your and Bucky’s behaviour. The cracks were already showing, the slightly too-long looks between you and Bucky, the stiffness in your tone whenever his name came up, the defensiveness you thought you’d kept hidden but apparently hadn’t.

You knew you couldn’t dodge her forever. Sooner or later, she’d confront you. And when she did, you’d have to lie—or worse, tell some version of the truth. What that truth even was… you weren’t sure. Not yet.

And Bucky?

You had no idea how to tell him you thought she already knew. That kind of conversation was a minefield, one wrong word and you’d either send him into horrified silence or make him regret every second of the nights spent together. Neither option was appealing.

You exhaled sharply, arms crossed as you watched Kate bounce on the balls of her feet, testing the space between her and Bucky.

He stood still in the centre of the mat, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. Brooding and unimpressed, as always. He hadn’t looked at you once all day, not properly at least. And yet you couldn’t stop thinking about how you knew exactly what he looked like when he came undone beneath you, fingers tangled in sheets and voice gone rough with need. He had been about as excited as you felt when the ‘teams’ for sparring were announced. You were beginning to suspect some convoluted plot half the compound was in on to see you and Bucky go head to head.

Now, he was back to being the Winter Soldier, being precisely what H.Y.D.R.A trained him to be, stoic, intimidating, unreadable. He had a talent for making his opponents feel beneath him. Unworthy. It was a tactic, you knew that, but it still worked.

Kate circled warily, eyes darting as she tried to read him, every shift in her posture betraying nerves. You watched her movements closely, noting the hesitation, the constant foot adjustments. She was looking for the right moment. You just hoped she’d recognise it when it came.

Much to Yelena and Natasha’s annoyance, you had flipped their little prank back onto them, sending Kate out to spar first, hoping to break her out of that ‘swing first, think later’ style Yelena loved so much.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision as Yelena strolled up beside you, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between you and the fight. Speak of the devil, and she will appear. 

"You’re staring real hard," she drawled. "What, got money riding on this?"

You didn’t bother looking at her. "She’s your pet project. Remind me again why I’m the one training her?"

"Apprentice," Yelena corrected smoothly.

You blinked. "What?"

She gestured vaguely toward Kate, who was still circling Bucky with the kind of careful precision that told you she was second-guessing herself. "She’s my apprentice, not a pet project. There is a difference."

"Uh-huh," you said flatly, entirely unconvinced. "And yet I’m the one teaching her how to think, instead of just swinging wildly and hoping the universe sorts it out."

Yelena smirked. "Because I am all wham, whack, bang, bam, action! Yes? You are all boring lectures and tactical talk. It is balance. How is she supposed to know how cool and awesome I am without hearing all your boring lectures about battle analysis—"

You turned to her, unimpressed. "Did you just make up sound effects?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said sweetly, then sipped from a water bottle like she hadn’t just made cartoon sound effects with complete sincerity.

Your focus shifted back to the fight as Kate feinted right, then hesitated—again. Bucky wasn’t attacking yet, just watching her with the kind of stillness that would’ve put even you on edge. He was waiting for her to make the first move, to reveal her plan before he committed to a real counter.

"She’s hesitating too much," Yelena observed.

"She’s calculating," you corrected. "That’s what she’s supposed to do."

Yelena made a sceptical noise. "If she waits any longer, he’s just going to knock her flat."

"If she rushes in without a plan, it’ll be the same result."

Bucky shifted—just a subtle test, quick and clean. Kate dodged, but barely. Her stance faltered. Yelena sighed, dragging her hands down her face. "Okay, this is painful to watch. You should just let me handle her—"

“No. I’m trying to teach her to think, not charge in like a wrecking ball.”

"Excuse you," Yelena gasped, touching her chest in mock offence. "I am a very tactical wrecking ball."

You didn’t respond, eyes narrowing. Kate was watching Bucky now—really watching. Good. She sidestepped his next move, then launched into the attack.

A feint to the right. A quick pivot. Just like you’d told her.

Bucky braced for the strike to his right, but it didn’t come.

Kate dipped low, powered off her back foot, and drove her elbow toward his ribs. Clean, sharp, decisive.

Bucky twisted fast, but not fast enough.

Her elbow landed. His breath left in a tight, surprised grunt.

"See?" you muttered, nudging Yelena with an elbow. "She’s learning."

Yelena lifted a brow. "Yeah, yeah. We’ll see if she follows through."

Instead of retreating, Kate followed through, using the momentum to drive her knee upward.

Bucky jerked back, but not far enough. Kate’s knee clipped his chin, snapping his head up just enough for the final blow.

You scoffed. "Give her some credit—"

A sharp smack rang through the gym.

Bucky let out a startled grunt of pain, staggering back, one hand cupping his face. Blood was already leaking between his fingers.

Kate froze, eyes going wide in horror. "Oh my god—Bucky! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—are you okay? Oh god, you’re bleeding—"

Bucky tipped his head back, exhaling sharply through his nose, which only made more blood drip down his lip. “No kidding.”

Yelena snorted beside you. "Okay, I take it back. She might actually be good at this."

Kate was still floundering, hands hovering like she wanted to help but had no idea how. "What do you need—should I get a medic? Ice? Tissues? A priest?"

Bucky shot her a glare, nostrils flaring as more blood dripped down his lip. "Just… just give me a second."

You stepped forward onto the mat. "Well. I’d say she followed through."

Yelena smirked. "Yeah. Maybe a little too well."

Kate turned to you, looking utterly betrayed. "You told me to go for the left!"

"I said to attack the opening on his left, not ‘punch him in the face like you’re trying to knock out a tooth’, but hey, improvisation is an important skill."

Kate groaned. Bucky muttered something low and vile in Russian as he turned toward the exit, blood trailing faintly in his wake.

Even Yelena blinked. “That sounded like a curse, Kate. Possibly an ancient one.”

“Don’t say that!” Kate whined in fear. 

"I’ll handle him," you muttered with a sigh, already following. You paused at the edge of the mat, glancing back at Kate. “You did good. Maybe pull your punches and ease off the full-force murder next time?”

Kate groaned louder. "That was me pulling my punches!"

Yelena’s laughter followed you as you crossed the room, clapping her hands together as she bounced on her toes like an excited child. "Oh, this is fun. We should do this more often."

You pushed through the changing room door and stepped into the cooler air beyond. The space was clean and sterile in that way that only rich tech-billionaire funding could buy. Polished tiles, dark wood lockers with brass fittings, and the faint scent of citrusy cleaner lingering beneath the hum of recessed lights.

The sound of running water guided you to the sinks.

Bucky was hunched over the white porcelain basin, one arm braced on the counter, the other still cupping the lower half of his face. The mirror above caught his reflection, blood-streaked, jaw-tight, brows drawn down in a frustrated knot. Crimson spiralled down the drain, bright against the ceramic.

“You look like a crime scene,” you muttered as you crossed the room.

Bucky let out a sharp breath through his mouth, meeting your comment with a pointed grunt that spoke volumes.

You raised a brow. “Are you going to keep glaring at me like I put out a hit on you?”

“You did,” he muttered flatly.

You rolled your eyes, making a beeline for the paper towel dispenser. You pulled out a few thick, folded sheets and pressed them into his free hand. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine.” he grumbled.

“Bucky.” You shot him a look, unimpressed. “Sit.”

His jaw tightened like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he relented, pushing off the counter, and he trudged toward one of the benches in the centre of the room and sat down stiffly, wincing as he tilted his head back.

You crouched in front of him, studying his face. The blood smeared across his upper lip stood out starkly against his skin, but at least it wasn’t gushing anymore. His nose was red, swelling a little but not crooked. Reaching out, you ghosted your fingers over the bridge, careful and light. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

Bucky huffed. “Feels broken.”

“Yeah, well, maybe don’t let Kate punch you in the face next time.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t dignify you with a response.

Shaking your head, you folded a fresh set of paper towels and pressed them lightly against his nose. “Hold this. It'll keep you from dripping all over Stark’s precious floors.”

Bucky took them with a sigh, his metal fingers brushing yours briefly.

You sank to your knees without really thinking about it, watching as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting the pressure with careful precision. His shoulders had lost some of their earlier tension, but his posture was still guarded like he was bracing himself for something more than just the dull throb of pain. The quiet hum of the ventilation system filled the space, blending with the distant murmur of voices from the gym beyond.

“Last night, I—” Bucky broke the silence first, his voice slightly nasal from the swelling.

“You fell asleep.” You cut him off gently, offering a faint smile. You didn’t know how much he had actually heard before exhaustion had finally claimed him. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let your guard down, to speak so openly, to bare your soul so easily. You had told yourself you wouldn’t burden him with your struggles. He already carried enough of his own.

And yet, he had this way of making you feel safe. Too safe.

It was almost ironic. He was supposed to instil fear, his name alone enough to make enemies think twice. And yet, all you saw was a rather sad, damaged, and tired man, his big, mournful puppy-dog eyes carrying the weight of things he could never put into words.

“Yeah. I don’t… remember it happening,” Bucky admitted, frowning slightly as if frustrated with himself. “One second, I was with you, and the next—”

“Did you sleep well, at least?”

He hesitated like he was debating whether to downplay it. But then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Best I have in a while.”

Your smile grew just a little. “I’m glad.”

Silence settled again, not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. Then, after a beat, Bucky sighed.

“I’m sorry that I don’t talk to you much outside of… lessons.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Bucky. You don’t… owe me anything.”

“It’s just… I don’t know how to act,” he admitted, gaze flicking away. “Not with everyone watching. I don’t want them figuring out. I don’t like their attention being all over me.”

Your smile faltered for just a second before you forced it back into place. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

Bucky’s brows pulled together in confusion. “How do you know about that—?”

You shrugged. It was your job to observe. To pick people apart and learn their secrets before they even knew them themselves. “During training, I’ve noticed you favour your right side. You block and punch heavier with it. You were compensating subconsciously because your left side was giving you grief. Have you thought about seeing a physio?”

His lips parted slightly like he hadn’t expected you to catch that. Then his gaze narrowed, a hint of suspicion creeping in.

“Is that why you gave me a massage yesterday?”

You smirked, tilting your head playfully. “Hm. Maybe.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Always two steps ahead, huh?”

You leaned in just a little, eyes glinting with amusement, a witty remark hanging off your tongue—only to dissolve the moment the door swung open.

Steve sauntered in, halting mid-step by the sinks as he took in the scene. You were kneeling between Bucky’s legs, a faint smirk tugging at your mouth while he looked down at you with something dangerously close to a smile—bloody paper towel and all.

Steve’s brows lifted. Confusion crossed his face, mixed with something harder to place, surprise? Suspicion? Whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t expecting this.

You jerked back instinctively, hands bracing on your thighs as you turned to face him.

“It’s not broken,” you announced a little too quickly, jerking your chin toward Bucky. “He’ll live. Bit of swelling and a bit of bruising. Nothing that won’t fade.”

Steve blinked, still trying to piece things together. “I didn’t realise you two were… friends?”

You let out a short, sharp laugh, already on your feet and several paces away. “Hear that, Barnes? We’re friends now.”

Bucky—who stiffly sat on the bench, with his hands still braced against his knees—remained utterly rooted in place as if one wrong move would shatter the illusion. His eyes flicked to you, then to Steve, then back to you, a silent plea not to say anything more.

Steve, on the other hand, still looked perplexed. 

“What?” you asked, turning back to the sink and rinsing your hands of the small amount of blood that had smudged across the skin during your brief inspection.

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing, I just, uh…” His face twisted slightly like he regretted speaking at all. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. It surprised me, that’s all.”

That stopped you. Cold. The smirk slipped from your face like it had never been there. Classic Steve Rogers. World’s most well-meaning bastard. Saying the worst possible thing with the purest damn intentions.

You hadn’t exactly made yourself the most approachable presence on the team. You kept your distance, never bought into the ‘team bonding’ crap that Stark and Fury constantly tried to shove down your throat. You weren’t here for friendships but to do a job. But something about how he said it—I’ve never heard you laugh before—grated deep. Like your silence was an affliction. Like you were broken because you didn’t play nice like everyone else.

Without thinking, you flicked water in his direction.

He flinched back with a slight grimace. 

“Thanks, Rogers,” you said, bone-dry. Then you turned, walking away without another word.

You could faintly hear Steve’s voice, panicked and confused, coming from behind you as you pushed the door open.

“What? What did I do?” he called to Bucky, his voice trailing.

“That was painful,” Bucky muttered loud enough for you to catch. “You always tell women to smile more, or is that just your opener? Remind me how you bagged Sharon talking like that—”

“That wasn’t what I was saying—!” Steve protested, his words quickly swallowed by the sound of the door snapping shut behind you

But it didn’t matter.

Because the truth was, you probably would laugh more if life hadn’t spent the past few years making sure you forgot how. If it weren’t for how every genuine emotion now felt like an act, something you wielded like a weapon to get what you wanted. The only time you really smiled or laughed anymore was on missions, tools of the trade. Smile here, flirt there, manipulate, mislead, vanish. You could fake it all like second nature, charm so convincing it fooled even yourself sometimes.

Because when it was real, it still felt like a lie.

You stalked back into the gym, trying to push the thoughts aside. Yelena’s sharp eyes caught yours almost immediately. “We’re going to the bar after this. You coming?”

You reached for your gym bag, slinging it over your shoulder without missing a beat. “No,” you answered flatly, prowling to walk toward the door.

“You’re not coming?” Kate had appeared from nowhere at your side, big blue eyes staring up at you.

You glanced down at her, deadpan. “Can you even go? Aren’t you like twelve?”

Kate’s begging expression melted into a playful glare, hands on her hips as you hesitated by the door. “No! I’m in college. I’m not a kid!”

You raised an eyebrow, her defensive tone amusing you. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” she shot back, almost proudly.

You grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Ah, barely legal.”

“It’s fine, she’ll be with us!” Yelena chimed in, giving you a pleading look. “Nat is coming, the others too, maybe Kate can buy Bucky a drink as an apology for breaking his nose—”

“Hey! I didn’t break it!” Kate protested, then looked up at you with a fearful expression, voice dipping in volume. “I didn’t, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in dramatically as if giving a speech. “I can already see the headline: ‘Avengers Drunken Antics on Public Display’—.’”

Yelena scowled at you. “It’s fine!” 

You smirked, but the exhaustion from the past few hours still weighed heavily on you. “You’re probably right. I can’t say much, in Russia we had vodka with breakfast.”

“So you’re coming?” Yelena asked one last time, sounding hopeful despite your resistance.

“No.” You said it with finality.  “I’ve seen too much of your face today. I need a break.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, but Kate was already heading towards her bag with a skip in her step. “Fine! More for us then!”

—

The training room was unusually quiet without Yelena’s smartass remarks ricocheting off the walls. Usually, the three of you trained together in the early mornings, but she and Kate were off on some covert infiltration upstate. Childs play for Yelena, really, though she’d taken her duties as a mentor for her little pet project rather seriously. That left just you and Natasha circling each other on the mat. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Yelena’s absence, which meant you were facing the full brunt of Natasha’s wrath alone. What didn’t help was that you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were running on fumes, and it showed. The last week had felt like one long string of wipeouts, each one dragging you down further with no sign of relief.

You ducked beneath a lazy strike, half-hearted at best, and swept your leg toward Natasha’s ribs. She blocked it with her shin like she’d barely noticed.

“Sloppy,” she remarked.

You threw a punch, weak and lazy. Natasha easily caught your wrist, spinning your body and throwing you to the mat. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs. She didn’t even break a sweat. She let out a short laugh, her hair spilling into her face as she looked down at you, amused.

But something was off.

Not in how she fought—no, that was as sharp as ever—but in her expression. Tight-lipped. Smug. And not her usual brand of smug, either. This was different, like she was sitting on a secret and absolutely itching for you to notice. She had that look again. The same one she’d had for the last two weeks. A silent challenge. An arrogant knowing. A game of cat and mouse neither of you had been willing to finish.

You groaned, deciding to cut your losses and pushed yourself off the mat, wiping sweat from your brow.

“There’s obviously something you want to say to me,” you muttered.

Natasha didn’t even pause. She moved in for another strike before you could fully recover, but you caught her forearm and twisted. She resisted effortlessly, that infuriating calm grin spreading across her face again.

“Nope,” she said. “Just… pleased, that’s all.”

“Pleased about what?” you asked cautiously.

Natasha pivoted out of your grip like water slipping through your fingers and swept your legs out from under you with a sharp hook of her foot. You hit the ground again with a dull thud. She didn’t bother offering you a hand up as if half-convinced you’d stay down.

“That I figured out your little secret before everyone else.” Her grin turned vicious. She started to circle you again, tone sing-song and entirely too satisfied. “Took me a while, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.”

You rolled up to your feet, levelling her with a look. “What secret?”

You played it cool. Innocent. But you both knew the gig was up. Natasha was like you, trained to spot what others missed, to read the body language no one else even registered. She’d probably clocked you and Bucky the moment you returned from the Gala. She and Yelena hadn’t exactly been subtle about their hunches, either.

She raised a brow. “Oh, come on. You’re really going to make me say it?”

You blinked back at her, expression blank.

“You,” she said, dragging the word out. “And Barnes.”

You deflected with a snort. “Yelena’s theories getting to you?”

“Don’t lie.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “He’s always making those puppy-dog eyes at you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

You barked a laugh, catching her off guard just long enough for you to swing a low kick her way. She dodged it neatly.

“Puppy-dog eyes? I can’t imagine it.” You lied through your teeth. “He always looks like someone kicked him while he was down. That or the brooding.”

Natasha’s smirk sharpened. “And you’re into that? He must be a very good fuck if you’re sticking around this long.”

“We haven’t…” You hesitated with a curse, missing a beat in your footwork. You shook your head, willing your mind to be able to focus on two tasks at once through the haze of fatigue. “Why would I want to fuck Barnes—”

“Considering our line of work, you’re a terrible liar sometimes.” You scowled at the amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It’s not like that between us.” You relented. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway—”

She cut over you, tilting her head. “You’re telling me you two haven’t had sex? God, don’t tell me it’s romance—”

“I’m just helping him feel normal.” You snapped back, hoping to shut her down before it got worse. “H.Y.D.R.A fucked him up, that’s for sure. The same way the Red Room fucked us up.”

Natasha made a face like something had clicked into place in her mind. “Shit.”

Your stomach dropped, movements stuttering as you realised you had unintentionally opened the floodgates. 

“Right,” she murmured, and something about her tone shifted. Not her usual brand of teasing. “You’re not… Never mind.”

You lunged toward her on instinct, catching her wrist with a clumsy grip. The contact was unsteady, your fingers didn’t have the strength they usually did, and Natasha didn’t fight back immediately.

“What?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied too quickly, too carefully.

“You’ve said it now,” you pressed, breath short. “Go on.”

She hesitated, her jaw ticking as her gaze drifted down, avoiding yours. The tension in her body softened by degrees, like she’d been carrying the thought for too long and finally decided it wasn’t worth holding onto.

“I just…” she exhaled, slow and controlled, “I worry about you sometimes. I hope you’re not taking on too much.”

You blinked at her, the fog in your head thick and sluggish. “Why do you say that?”

“You know what I mean.”

You knew what she meant, even if it was a truth you’d been hiding from yourself. A truth you didn’t want to look at too closely out of fear of it consuming you whole. A dull ache formed your chest, a lump in your throat as you shook your head. 

You knew Natasha wouldn’t have had any way of knowing those forbidden words you’d uttered to Bucky, the ones he had missed as sleep had pulled him under, the thoughts that haunted you now that you had finally shown them acknowledgement. You felt sick. Rotten to your core. Like maggots and rot festered within, wriggling and twitching beneath the skin, just enough for you to pretend, smile, and continue like normal as your world shattered around you.

“I’m not some broken little girl, Nat,” you said, heat rising behind your words. “I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure of that,” she said softly, and it was the softness that rattled you most. Natasha didn’t do soft unless it mattered. “But… can you look after yourself? Or have you just isolated yourself for so long that you’ve tricked yourself into thinking the only person you can trust is yourself?”

Her voice, the quiet honesty of it, landed harder than any blow she’d dealt all morning.

You looked down, your fists trembling faintly. You flexed your fingers, opening and closing them like the answer might be written in your palms.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t argue, but she didn’t believe you either. You could feel it in the silence between her breaths. Natasha never spoke unless she meant it. She was always calculating like you.

“I just…” she said, the words tentative like they were being picked up and examined before they left her mouth. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She paused, then added with a wry twist of her lips as if to soften the blow, “Or Barnes.”

You snorted, the sound bitter and short. “Since when do you care about Barnes?”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not really. But if he gets attached and this doesn’t go how he hopes, he could spiral. And if you get attached and he panics…”

“I know.”

And you did. You knew it too well. The thought had curled up behind your ribs and sat there, heavy and unwanted, gnawing at you whenever he looked at you like you were something soft. Like you were safe. You didn’t feel like a safe option. 

“Just…” Natasha’s voice was quieter now, more cautious. “Don’t lose yourself trying to fix him.”

You met her eyes, forcing yourself to stay grounded. To not waver. “I’m not damaged.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but you saw how her brow pinched, the subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

You sighed, the weight of your exhaustion peeling every word from your throat like it didn’t want to come willingly. “I’m also not trying to fix him. We’re just… friends. With benefits. Nothing more.”

She gave a slow nod like she was willing to accept that on paper, but in her gut, she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll believe you. Just… don’t go all radio silent on me like you do. I’m here for you, you know?”

You raised a brow, trying for humour but lacking the energy to pull it off entirely. “You getting all sappy on me now?”

“Never.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Hm. Maybe.” She swiped the back of her hand across her brow. “But don’t tell Yelena. She’ll rip me to fucking shreds over it.”

Despite yourself, you let out a faint, tired laugh.

But it only lasted a second before Natasha lunged again.

You weren’t fast enough this time—your sluggish body didn’t catch up to the signal your brain sent. Her leg swept yours, and the mat slammed into your shoulder before you even realised you were falling. Pain flared, dull and heavy, and you lay there. Breathing hard. Staring up at the ceiling like it might offer you some kind of answer.

Natasha hovered above you, arms crossed loosely, her expression unreadable.

“Seriously,” she said. “When was the last time you actually slept? You look like shit.”

There it was, the usual cool, snide remark to cushion the fact that she truly cared. Like she knew you’d run like a spooked animal if she showed too much kindness. You didn’t answer right away. Just closed your eyes and let the silence stretch.

Natasha let out a grunt, not the least bit impressed.

—

You would have to warn Bucky that if he kept looking at you like that, the two of you were bound to end up in a whole world of trouble. 

It was bad enough that Natasha was on your tail—worse than that—she’d found the bones in your closet, polished them clean, and lined them up like trophies. You knew she wouldn’t breathe a word to Yelena, or anyone else for that matter, but you could feel a future creeping toward you, one where her tongue slipped. Just once. That’s all it would take.

And Bucky? He wasn’t helping. Not with that look. Not when even Steve Rogers did a double take, brows ticking up as if to say really, Buck? 

You were fresh off a particularly gruelling recon mission at Karpin’s club. No fists were thrown, no bullets dodged, but that didn’t make it any less exhausting. Playing the role of an attractive, naïve dancer took more skill than most people realised. You’d spent the last six weeks prying secrets from Karpin’s greasy fingers. Details about his buyers, how payments were moved, anything useful. He never suspected a thing, too high on his own ego to realise the little thing on his arm was gutting him for intel.

Fury had been unmistakable in his instructions—get the buyers first. If they caught wind that S.H.I.E.L.D was sniffing around, they’d scatter like roaches, and the whole operation would collapse. So you played the waiting game. Carefully. Precisely. Night after night.

Now you just wanted a drink. And a scalding-hot shower. Maybe both at once. Your skin felt like it had absorbed the club, cheap vodka, cigarette smoke, and desperation.

You adjusted the fur coat around your shoulders with a groan, trying to ignore how your dress—if you could even call it that—kept shifting against your skin. Yelena had dubbed the coat your ‘mob wife piece’ after finally watching The Sopranos, and the name had stuck. Your heels were the real punishment, though. Tall, unforgiving, and cursed by whatever sadist designed them.

After every recon job, the standard protocol was to turn in evidence immediately—cameras, bugs, audio mics, and a hand-written report. After six hours of playing pretend, you were scribbling in agonising detail while the evidence collection agent across from you gave you a rather pointed, unamused look. You briefly considered banging your head against the desk.

And, of course, Bucky was watching you. Not subtly. No, he was seated in a glass-walled meeting room across the way, surrounded by agents and Avengers, but his eyes hadn’t left you in a while. He looked like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot. You watched him watching you, and you forgot to be annoyed for a second. He looked... ravenous. Unapologetically so.

The meeting finally broke. Doors opened. Agents spilled out. That was your cue. Evidence was handed in, and your aching wrist is getting no thanks for its service. The agent slid your report into a folder stamped ‘CLASSIFIED’ in angry red ink. You almost laughed. God, the theatre of it all.

Natasha bumped your shoulder as she sauntered past towards the elevator. 

“Better keep loverboy in check,” she muttered in your ear as she passed. Her smirk was wicked. 

You shot her a scowl.

Bucky was in the crowd, still watching. His gaze wasn’t on your scowl, though. It was lower. Tracing the cling of the gold mesh slip dress, the way it shimmered under the harsh overhead lights. Tacky enough for the job. Tight enough to draw attention. It hugged every curve with intent, and though it wasn’t your usual style, you were beginning to wonder if it might become one.

You hadn’t pegged Bucky for the type who’d go wild for glitter and skin, but judging by the look in his eyes…

Thank god for lessons, or he'd be dealing with a very awkward elevator ride. 

“I think I’ll take the stairs,” you replied, more bitterly than you meant to.

Natasha smirked as the elevator doors began to close, her eyes dancing with amusement and just a hint of sympathy. But it was Bucky’s gaze that lingered until the very last second as if he could memorise the sight of you before the doors cut him off.

You turned sharply on your heel and made for the stairs, the ache in your feet be damned. The heels bit with every step, but you welcomed the sting. It was easier to focus on than the heat lingering after Bucky’s gaze.

Four flights up, your phone dinged.

You didn’t have to check it to know. You already had a feeling. Still, a smirk pulled at your lips as you glanced at the lock screen.

Can I see you tonight?

Bucky had taken to modern tech far better than Steve ever had. Where Steve still asked what a GIF was or accidentally created a new group chat every time he tried to reply, Bucky had easily slipped into the rhythm. 

You thumbed out a reply as you rounded the next flight of stairs.

Aren’t you going out for drinks with the others?

Fridays had become a ritual for the team, provided no one was off saving the world or buried in a mission, so there’d be a few rounds at a bar nearby. Laughter. Cheap beer. Temporary normalcy.

You watched the typing bubble flicker to life… then vanish. Then again. And again.

Not my scene.

A pause.

Is that a no?

You grinned, slowing your steps just a little. You could picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, hovering over the screen like the answer might change everything.

You typed quickly.

I’ll come to your room right now if you ask nicely.

You paused in the stairway, hesitating outside the door for the residential floor where all the apartments were located. Your pulse tapped a little faster beneath your skin.

Another ding.

Please?

That was all it took.

You pushed open the door.

On my way.

—

“I want to try something different,” you murmured against Bucky’s skin, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat as you nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

It all happened in a blur when you stepped through his door. Heels abandoned at the threshold, your coat sliding from your shoulders like a shrug of tension gone loose. Bucky had lasted all of two seconds, long enough for a strained smile and a greeting muttered through clenched teeth before instinct took over. His hands found your waist. Your back. Your thighs. And then you were in his lap as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, the mattress giving under both your weight and the familiar gravity that always pulled you toward each other.

Mumbled apologies about the scent of alcohol and sweat were lost beneath kisses, the air thick with the smell of him—black coffee from his meeting and that damn aftershave—as you melted into your usual spot atop him.

His rough palm ghosted up the back of your thigh in lazy strokes, the pads of his fingers brushing skin like he already knew it by heart. You blinked up at him, studying the angles of his face, searching for that tell-tale flicker, tightening of his jaw, a furrow between his brows, anything that indicated hesitation or worry. But there was none. Instead, he caught your eye, the touch of vibranium fingers cool and featherlight against your cheek.

“Last time you said that,” he murmured with a low chuckle, “you blindfolded me.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” You cut back rather smugly, only to be met with a reluctant hum of agreement. “I want to talk about something first.”

Bucky stilled, alert now in that quiet, observant way of his. “What’s that?”

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt. “Are you afraid of me touching you?”

He blinked, surprised. “No? Is this a trick question—?”

“Do you like me touching you?”

“Yes.” His answer came easily, without hesitation.

“But you don’t like me touching your cock.”

That gave him pause. The stroking of your thigh faltered. There it was, his jaw ticked, the smallest tension rising between his brows like a storm cloud forming just behind his eyes.

“I don’t…Isn’t that what we’ve been doing these past few months?” His voice was low, cautious.

“You let me touch you near it,” you said gently. “But if I move my hand under your waistband, even just a little, you freeze. You ask me to stop. I just want to know why.”

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. He stared at the ceiling instead of at you, like maybe the answer was written there if he looked hard enough.

“There’s no wrong answer,” you whispered. “I’m not upset. I’m not trying to push you. I just want to understand. To help.”

He exhaled slowly, brows knitting in thought. 

“It’s overwhelming, I think,” he said finally. “The added…feeling. On top of everything else that’s already happening.”

“So,” you said slowly, “if it happened in isolation. Nothing else, just that, you’d feel more comfortable? More in control?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. I think so.”

You hesitated, then asked softly, “Would you be okay with trying today? Right now?”

His eyes finally met yours, a flash of vulnerability behind the steel blue. “Putting me on the spot here, doll…”

Doll. That was a pet name you wouldn’t look too deeply into. Or acknowledge. He didn’t even seem to notice he had said it.

“You can always say no,” you reminded him softly. “That’s the most important rule, always. Either of us can stop at any time. No questions, no pressure, no hard feelings.”

He was quiet momentarily, gaze flickering between your eyes, searching for something. Then he nodded once, steady.

“Let’s do it.”

You paused, holding his gaze. “Are you sure?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a touch wry. “I trusted you when you blindfolded me, didn’t I?” he said, voice low, rough around the edges. “I don’t see any reason not to trust you now.”

That was all the encouragement you needed.

You slipped off his lap with ease, sinking onto the floor between his knees, the hem of your dress bunching up around your thighs. You blinked up at him expectantly, steady but unhurried. Bucky hesitated, shoulders tensing as his hands hovered uncertainly at his belt. A flicker of embarrassment was behind his eyes, the kind he hadn’t yet learned to hide from you.

You didn’t comment on it. Didn’t tease him for the blush creeping up his neck, or for the way his fingers fumbled slightly as he undid the buckle and began peeling off the layers. You just waited—quiet, patient, allowing him to find his own pace. You didn’t point out the irony of it all, how easily he’d unravel for you, but how nudity still brought hesitation. Like showing skin was somehow more vulnerable than offering up his soul.

His boxers were the last to go, and by the time he slid them down, he was already half-hard, his cock flushed with arousal. The pink tint on his cheeks deepened as his eyes darted away from yours.

You tilted your head, shifting closer until you were kneeling between his legs. The warmth radiating from his thighs drew you in like a hearth. Your hand brushed lightly over his knee in reassurance, and he twitched at the contact.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice more hum than a question.

He nodded, but it was too tight, too instinctive.

You paused.

“Need to hear your words, Bucky. I’m only going to do this if you tell me you’re okay.”

There was a beat of silence, his vibranium hand clenching in the sheets beside him.

“I want this,” he said, voice low but certain, even if his body still trembled faintly beneath you.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, reading the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breath.

“You remember what to say if you need to stop?”

He nodded again, more grounded this time. “Yeah. I remember.”

Satisfied, you reached out, your fingers wrapping gently around the base of his cock. You were cautious at first, letting your touch linger without pressure, just the soft drag of skin against skin. A strained groan left him almost immediately, the muscles in his thighs tightening on either side of you.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching his face twist with the sensation. His jaw slackened, mouth parted, eyes nearly fluttering closed as you began to stroke him. Slow, deliberate, careful. He was thick and heavy in your hand, already pulsing with anticipation, growing harder by the second. You shouldn’t have been surprised. Not after the nights spent grinding into each other, his arousal pressed tight and insistent through layers of clothing, but still, the reality of him was enough to stir a wicked spark behind your smile.

You pumped him a few more times, watching how easily his composure began to slip. He was already squirming, breaths ragged, his abdomen twitching every time your palm slid down to the base and back up again.

His head fell back, a quiet whimper escaping him as you thumbed over the slit at the head of his cock. He flinched from the contact, one hand flying to your elbow and gripping it like an anchor, his whole body responding to the jolt of pleasure like he’d been struck by lightning.

“How do you feel?” you asked, voice low, almost teasing.

It took him a moment to answer. His lips parted, trying to form words while his chest heaved, his eyes glazed over with ecstasy. A drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip, and you collected it with your fingers, spreading it down the shaft to ease your rhythm.

“Good,” he finally gasped. “Amazing. Did it always… I don’t remember it feeling—”

His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you leaned forward and kissed the tip. The contact was featherlight, but it shattered him. His metal hand shot up into your hair, not to pull or direct, but to ground himself, trembling as if the sensation threatened to lift him right out of his skin.

“Oh my god—” He began to whine.

You giggled softly, the warmth of your breath enough to send him over the edge.

Bucky came with a choked moan, his hips jerking as thick, hot ropes spilt over your chin and neck. His thighs trembled with the force of it, his head thrown back as if he couldn’t bear the weight of pleasure crashing through him. You stroked him through it, gentle and slow, coaxing every last pulse from him while he tried and failed to string thoughts together.

As he collapsed back against the mattress, boneless and dazed, you ran a hand up the inside of his thigh, using it as leverage to push yourself upright. His grip on your hair slackened and fell away, his hands lying limp beside him, fingers twitching faintly in the aftershocks.

“I’m gonna clean up,” you hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He didn’t even open his eyes, just nodded, lips parted, breath still ragged.

“Okay,” he mumbled, voice thick and warm with lingering arousal. “I’ll be right here.”

—

It took only a few minutes to freshen up. You moved on muscle memory, warm water, damp cloth, and a quick sweep of your hair from your neck. You paused before leaving the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel in case he wanted it. 

But when you stepped back into the bedroom, you found he’d already taken care of himself, his boxers pulled back on.

Bucky was sprawled across the mattress like he’d melted into it, a sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbone. He looked wrecked—in the best way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling in a slow, almost dazed rhythm, but his gaze sharpened the second it landed on you. A lazy, crooked grin tugged at his lips as he lifted an arm in a silent invitation, eyes still half-lidded and blown wide with the afterglow.

You climbed into bed beside him, the weight of his body shifting as you curled into the space between his arm and chest. His skin was warm against yours, the hum of his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You pressed a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw, and his breath hitched as your hand slid over his stomach.

His mouth found yours not long after, lazy and unhurried like neither of you wanted to break the spell. It didn’t stay that way for long. Hunger crept in. Familiar, greedy heat as his mouth parted and his fingers tangled into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch.

And then… you felt him. Again.

Your thigh brushed his hip, and you stilled. Then pulled back, brows arching in playful disbelief. “Already?”

The question hung in the air like a teasing note, half-smirk, half-curiosity.

Bucky’s eyes dipped, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks. He looked momentarily abashed as if he’d been caught red-handed, though the evidence quite literally pressed against your leg.

“It’s the super soldier serum,” he mumbled, the corner of his mouth curling despite himself.

You tilted your head, amusement rising. He was trying to play it cool, but the slight flush on his ears gave him away.

“Oh?” you drawled. “And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

His fingers scratched lightly at the back of his neck, a classic tell.

“Steve said something once,” he offered, deliberately vague.

You blinked. Your smile widened, slow and predatory.

“Steve?” you echoed. “You’ve been talking to Steve about this?”

“No!” His protest was immediate and rushed like a man trying to stop a landslide with a broom. “Not exactly,” he amended quickly. “He was talking about Sharon, I guess.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you bit your bottom lip to stifle it, your hand resting lightly on his chest. You could feel the way his heart kicked beneath your palm. Nervous, flustered. Bucky Barnes, caught in the act of oversharing.

“Sharon, huh?” you said innocently, voice tinged with mischief.

His eyes narrowed slightly, catching the shift in your tone. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said airily, pretending to inspect the stitching on the pillowcase behind his head. “Just something Yelena said the other day.”

Suspicion flickered in his gaze, but you forged ahead.

“She thinks Steve wasn’t as innocent as we all pegged him. Something about spotting him and Sharon… in a compromising position.”

Bucky snorted, turning his face into your shoulder to muffle the sound. “I wonder what they’d make of this.”

“Oh, I’d never hear the end of it,” you groaned, flopping onto your back with theatrical flair. “They’re already circling like vultures, trying to interrogate me about the gala.”

He shifted beside you, propping himself up slightly on his elbow to get a better look at your face. “And what did you tell them?”

You hesitated. Just long enough for the silence to tighten.

There it was, the flicker of guilt behind your eyes. You could feel it rise like a slow tide in your chest, swelling into your throat. You should tell him. About Natasha’s uncanny perception, the way her gaze had cut straight through you like a knife, and how you’d cracked under pressure with barely a word from her.

But you didn’t. You weren’t sure how he’d take it. Knowing someone else was privy to this—this, your quiet little secret.

“Nothing,” you said, soft but firm, hoping your smile would mask the lie.

His expression didn’t shift dramatically, but you saw his brow furrowed slightly—a quiet sharpening behind the eye.

“Nothing?” he repeated.

“I just…” You sighed, turning to face him properly. The pillow dipped beneath your cheek. “I figured you didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to make things messy.”

He was quiet. His gaze flicked to the ceiling, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best, isn’t it?”

He didn’t sound entirely convinced by his own words, and you didn’t feel entirely convinced either. 

“It’s up to you,” you said eventually. “Everyone’s image of me is already… well, damaged.” You let out a soft, bitter laugh, fingers twisting idly in the edge of the sheets. “I’m sure this will hardly ruin my reputation. But yours…”

“That seems unfair,” he said, brows drawing together.

“What does?”

“The way they treat you.” Your breath caught slightly, unprepared for its bluntness. You looked at him, and he met your gaze head-on. No hesitation, no irony. Just honesty, raw and unvarnished. And before you could piece together a response, he spoke again. “Do you always do that? Make yourself smaller for other people?”

The question landed like a stone in your gut. You froze, eyes searching his face, almost disbelieving.

He hadn’t said it unkindly. But it lodged deep.

For a moment, you were tempted to laugh it off, to deflect, to be clever. Anything to avoid the sudden, unexpected vulnerability that cracked open inside you like a fault line.

Had he been watching you this whole time? Not just looking, but seeing? Had you been too busy circling Bucky to notice that he circled you in return?

You smiled weakly, wanting to fill the dreadful silence that had settled over the both of you. “I could say the same for you.”

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him again. You could feel the weight of him against your hip, the heat building between you again.

You let your nose brush his. “Still something to do with the serum?”

Bucky smirked, lips brushing yours. “That… and you.”

You exhaled a breathless laugh, but something about the way his thumbs moved, slow circles against your ribs, made the warmth curl low in your belly again. The mood was shifting. Building. You could feel it.

And then his voice turned quieter. Uncertain.

“I feel bad,” he murmured.

You blinked, drawing back just enough to see the look on his face. 

“Bad?” you repeated, confused.

“For not…” He gestured vaguely between your bodies. “Returning the favour.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb along the line of his jaw. His stubble rasped against your skin.

“Bucky,” you said gently, “you don’t have to do everything all at once.”

He frowned, and you could tell he didn’t quite agree. Always so ready to shoulder weight that was never meant to be his. Always prepared to give more than he thought he was allowed to take. He carried guilt like it was just another one of his old injuries that could never quite be healed.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you added, quieter now. “With information. Or… expectations.”

His eyes searched yours. “But I want to learn.”

“There’s a little more involved in getting a woman to orgasm,” you said, but your tone light as you tried to shake off the weight of his gaze.

“It doesn’t have to be… I just want to make you feel good.”

God. He said it like it mattered. Like you mattered.

Your resolve crumbled.

You rose slowly, coaxing him to sit up with you. Straddling his hips felt natural now, like returning to a familiar place. You took his hand gently, guiding it up over your shoulder over the thin gold strap of your dress.

“Okay,” you murmured. “Then help me take this off.”

His fingers moved with care, grazing over your skin, catching the strap between his thumb and forefinger as he began to ease the dress down your arms. The fabric slid away like a sigh, pooling around your waist, revealing the strapless bra beneath.

You felt him falter, brow furrowing in confusion. “How does this…?”

You turned around on your knees, back to him. “It unclips at the back,” you murmured, sweeping your hair over one shoulder to expose the delicate line of your spine.

“Just three hooks. Here.” You reached behind you, fingertips brushing the clasp.

His fingers met yours, searching as he followed your instructions. A breath escaped him, soft and shallow, before he found the hooks and gently undid them one click at a time.

The tension in your shoulders eased just a fraction. “There you go.”

His hands hovered, uncertain now that your bare back was before him like an empty canvas. You tossed the bra to the floor and reached back, guiding his hands to your waist, then up, encouraging him to cup the full weight of your breasts. He was hesitant at first, the pads of his fingers a little stiff, a little too tense. The contrast of warm flesh and cool vibranium sent a delicious shiver spiralling through you, eliciting a long, satisfied sigh.

That sound seemed to break whatever restraint he was clinging to. His grip shifted, confidence blooming. He began to knead and explore, thumbs brushing experimentally over your nipples. When a vibranium finger flicked one with the barest touch, you let out a soft whine, your back arching to press yourself flush against his chest.

“I think I like this,” he murmured, voice husky at your ear, breath fanning warm across your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, turning slowly to face him again, your balance steady in his palms. His hands slid down to anchor you at the hips.

His gaze lingered, not just on your chest, but on your face. Like he was still processing, still memorising. Desire curled in your gut, a heartbeat between your legs. You fought the urge to reach down, to chase the friction your body was begging for.

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you again. Something in him had shifted. He wasn’t following anymore. He was moving with intent. And when he gently rolled you back onto the pillows, his weight settling above yours, your breath hitched.

You tried to ignore the instinct curling tight in your belly. Tried not to let the familiar feeling of being beneath someone stir that old panic. Like the walls might close in around you. Like control was slipping just a little too far out of reach.

His mouth trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, between your breasts, and you squirmed ever-so-slightly beneath him. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, a soft sound of satisfaction humming against you. He licked a rough stroke over one of your nipples as if it were a primal instinct.

You groaned, one hand gently scratching across his back, the other through his hair. His knee slotted between your thighs, parting them easily, the gold fabric of your dress bunched at your waist. Only a thin slip of lace remained between you. He didn’t look down. He didn’t need to, his lips were still worshipping your chest.

His vibranium hand curved over your knee, pushing you open further, his hips grinding lightly into yours, and that flicker of alarm surged. Too strong to ignore.

You moved fluidly before it could root itself. With practised grace, you flipped the two of you, rolling him onto his back and straddling his hips in a single, breathless motion. He made no protest, just let out a pleased groan as his hands found your thighs.

You exhaled slowly, grounding yourself in the present. In him. His wide eyes blinking up at you, still caught in the moment.

He didn’t notice the shift. Didn’t ask why you took control again.

And you were grateful.

As you steadied yourself above him, he sat up suddenly, arms sliding around your waist. His mouth pressed a slow kiss to your sternum. He looked up at you, lashes fluttering, nose brushing the curve of your breast.

Your breath caught in your throat.

As he pressed another kiss to your skin, you realised—without a doubt—that maybe this was the single most erotic moment of your life.

Not the act, not the heat of it all but him. The way he looked at you. The gentleness in his hands. The trust humming beneath his skin like a live wire. The way your name might’ve been forming behind his teeth, even if he hadn’t spoken it.

You sank your hands into his hair and pulled him closer.

You were still tangled in each other, the heat between your bodies humming like static, when the apartment door swung open with an easy, unthinking click.

“Hey Buck, you sure you don’t wanna come out with us—?”

The cheerful voice stopped cold. 

Steve.

---

PART FOUR

hello! i no longer have a taglist because it got too long and was reaching the tag limit. if you want to keep being notified of my updates please follow @artficlly-updates and turn on post notifications! i'll only be reblogging on there <3

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

extra 4: forget

wc: 6.3k

synopsis: the four times tess and paige forgot they were on different wnba teams

notes: i think i would be a terrible ex bc every time i say im done w this series i end up coming back 😟 i went ahead and combined both of the ideas i linked in the poll since they were so close sooooo everybody is winning i think! also i will be moving all of the irp extras to the irp masterlist instead of clogging my main one so do not be alarmed if you can't find them. uhh thats all but as always i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

i. firsts

JUNE 6, 2025

For all intents and purposes, today was just another game.

It was an away game, which Tess always enjoyed – it was the competitor in her who thrived off of the home team crowd’s jeers, their disappointed groans when the game was tight and one of their star players missed a shot. It’s the kind of pressure that she craves. You walk into hostile territory, not even as the underdog, but something a little more intense than that. Something more personal. Hundreds of people fill the stands and all they know is that their team will beat yours. Tess could always be found in that sort of quiet that fills the arena when she’s made her point, when her wrist is bent from a deep three that she knows is going in – that shell-shocked, stunned, dominant silence that surges through her veins like electricity. That’s what basketball is to her.

Besides being a Commissioner’s Cup game, the second of Tess’s season, Tess was committed to treating this game just as any other. They’d steamrolled the Mercury only a few days ago so she was in high spirits going into this game. 

…Which just so happened to be their first game against the Dallas Wings. Her first game against Paige.

She’d heard it all from the media throughout the season, even if they’d never said it to her face directly. How are you planning on navigating these games against your significant other? Will you play the game any differently? Is this personal to you? And even the ever elusive, Are you planning on throwing away your season to improve Paige’s stats and her Rookie of the Year campaign — which, what the fuck?

The point is – this has been the most anticipated game since the beginning of the season. While the Wings and the Sparks have both lost a few games each (losing was something that Tess and Paige weren’t quite used to – KP pulled her aside in the locker room after her first of the season, shrugged, and simply said, “Shit happens. Just make sure you have toilet paper,” and to this day, Tess really isn’t sure what that’s supposed to mean). Despite the culture shock, Tess and Paige were both on tears — averaging about twenty points a game each. Paige led her in assists, although they tied in rebounds and Tess led in stocks. Analysts claimed they’d be the deadliest backcourt the WNBA has ever seen if only they were on the same team. They had a few more years to go, but Tess did have to admit their games were near perfect complements of each other. 

For as long as she’s been playing collegiate basketball and now, the few short weeks she’s been playing professional basketball, she’s gotten a lot better at tuning out the media noise. While this is a huge game for a lot of reasons – the narrative, the cup game, the first she’s played against Paige as professional athletes, Tess knew better than anyone else that she needed to keep her cool and treat it like she would any other game, even if she and Paige haven’t seen each other since their post draft “vacation” (if you could call it that – Paige was in between several interviews, show appearances, a victory rally, although Tess appreciated that she was just as committed to taking the time off together as she was).

So what if this was the first time seeing her girlfriend in person in almost a month? Tess and Paige were grown adults with grown adult jobs. They could handle the distance. They’re professionals. Which is why Tess is going to not geek out about it.

“Girl,” Rickea deadpans, causing Tess to look up from where she’s currently lacing up her sneakers in the Wings’ visitor locker room. “You need to get it together.”

Tess frowns, genuinely confused. “I’m tying my shoes and minding my business!” she exclaims. “What do you want from me?”

Kelsey snorts, sliding the Sparks warm-up sweatshirt over her frame. “You’ve been smiling all day,” she says. “It’s actually terrifying. Like you were even smiling while tying your shoes. Who does that?”

Tess, conveniently, focuses on her other shoe, making sure the laces are tightened to her liking. “I have plenty of things to be happy about in my life,” she defends. She can hear Cam laugh from the other side of the locker room, turning to Azurá and whispering something about here we go again. “My cousin’s pregnant again. Did I tell you guys that?”

The entire locker room chimes in with a chorus of groans – because truthfully, Tess hasn’t shut up about it. “So that’s really fun! I’m trying to talk her into naming her daughter after me. Tess Kennedy Jr.”

“What if she has a son?” Rickea asks, clearly entertaining this ridiculous conversation.

Tess wrinkles her nose. “She won’t. There’s no space in my family for a man.” Then, she remembers the topic of their conversation, trying her best to steer her teammates away from the conclusion they are most definitely making about her pregame mood. “Then, when we played the Mercury, I set a new career high. Very happy about that, too.” Rickea hums, gassing her up, much to Kelsey’s amusement. “What else?” Tess exaggeratedly taps her chin.

“Keep your secrets,” Kelsey goads, squeezing her shoulder. “Whenever you wanna admit it to yourself, just know that we know. And so will the cameras. So don’t look too in love with the enemy.”

Tess rolls her eyes despite the flush on her cheeks. “You guys have no faith in me,” she says glumly.

“I have faith in you,” Cam says brightly. “We’re happy that you’re happy. Just remember to have some dignity when you walk out.”

“Cameron.”

Cam’s laughter echoes in the locker room as she leaves. Still, Tess grins, satisfied with the tightness of her laces, and follows them out for warm-ups. She can handle this.

Tess, in fact, was not handling it.

Well – she was, but she didn’t want to. She’s not sure what Paige did to her to turn her into the kind of person who stares longingly across the court during warm-ups. Her brain knows that she and Paige have done this long distance thing long enough to deal with it, but having Paige so close to her seems to override that logic. A month isn’t even the longest period of time they’ve gone without seeing each other, but Tess just misses her, as trivial as it is.

She tries, though. She knows there were things they could get away with in college, but she has to remind herself that while she’s just playing basketball, this is her job now. There are a lot of things the media won’t let slide – she could already see the headlines that would tear the both of them down for distracting each other. Tess keeps her focus on her warm ups, listening to the trainers coach them through the exercises and Rickea’s endless complaining about the fact she left her favorite moisturizer at her apartment. It keeps her mind off of Paige for a few blissful moments until Paige jogs by, heading back into the tunnel, and she throws a disarming smile over her shoulder which erases all of the progress she’d made during warm-ups.

Despite the difficulty, Tess makes it through warm-ups in one piece, feeling ready for the game ahead. Everyone lines up for the ensuing tip off. That’s when she locks in fully, the responsibility and vigor of the game taking over. Paige is laser focused too, both of them worried more about the game in front of them, and they’re hardly one-on-one unless their respective teammates call for a switch.

The first switch happens five minutes into the first quarter — the Wings hold a solid six point lead, courtesy of Paige’s signature midrange pull ups. Kelsey is guarding Paige, but NaLyssa sets a screen for Paige. The Sparks had run this play enough in practice so Tess finds herself glued to Paige, effectively stopping the jumper that Tess knew she was squaring her feet for.

“You avoiding me?” Tess asks Paige, knowing her girlfriend can’t resist the opportunity to chirp when presented with the opportunity.

Paige grins through the sheen of sweat glistening on her temples and Tess knows she’s got her — hook, line, and sinker. She keeps the ball close to her person, knowing better than anyone else that Tess is one of the best defenders in the league, second to the bigs. “Nah,” she goads, dribbling the ball calmly between her legs. Her eyes dart around like she’s looking for an opening in the defense, which Tess doesn’t miss. “Figured I’d let you try to defend someone a little more your speed.”

“Scared you can’t keep up?”

“Come on, baby,” Paige coos. “Don’t make me do this to you on national television.”

Tess just smiles at her. She anticipates the pass before Paige even moves and she launches in the air, deflecting it back towards the logo. Kelsey manages to catch the rebound and Tess is already barreling down the court, Paige hot on her heels. Kelsey passes it low to get around Dijonai and Tess scoops it up, laying it in easily with her right hand, knowing that Paige was on her left. It was a pattern she’d picked up not only from watching her in film, but also training with her over the summer before their super senior seasons. Paige is probably the only thing she’s a master in.

Tess can’t help but feel a little proud of herself, glancing back to smile smugly at her girlfriend, who shakes her head with a flicker of impressed amusement in her eyes. Paige, seemingly forgetting that they’re supposed to be on opposite teams, gives Tess a friendly pat on the ass as Tess backpedals for defense. It catches her a little off guard but the game is moving too fast for her to dwell on it.

She refocuses, knowing they’ve already goofed off enough, and settles in for another three and a half quarters of rigorous basketball.

The Wings, ultimately, end up taking the win at the end of the game. Losing is one thing but losing to Paige is another. Tess had played her game, but basketball was a team sport for a reason. There were a lot of things they still had to work on if they wanted to make a dent in the playoffs this season. Similarly, the Wings had some things to work on, but they were just the better team that night.

Tess is still nursing the butthurt feeling when Paige finds her after the game, a radiant smile on her face. Truly, losing this game wasn’t the end of the world, a fact Tess was still trying to make peace with.

“Does this mean I’m on the couch tonight?” Paige asks a little coyly, which makes Tess roll her eyes as she pulls her girlfriend in for a tight hug. She doesn’t say anything, just sinking into Paige’s embrace with a deep sigh, tucking her face into the crook of her neck as her eyes slip shut. Paige is still damp with sweat, smelling something like adrenaline and victory, but Tess doesn’t care. She missed her girlfriend. A lot. Probably concerningly so. She’s sure that feeling wouldn’t ever go away — she’d just get better at dealing with it.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, her voice softening a little, no trace of her previous tease. “You okay?”

Tess nods slightly, making a concerted effort to pull away. “Yeah,” she says, finally allowing that lovestruck smile to appear on her face, the one that she’d hidden for the better part of the game. “Just miss you. LA is an adjustment.”

The crease in Paige’s brows relax and the blonde smiles a little. “You’re happy though?” she asks, just to confirm, but she knows better. She and Tess have spent enough time on the phone at night to know about every little thought that went through their heads.

“I am,” Tess promises, grinning when Paige’s smile brightens. “But I’m happier now.”

Unable to resist, Paige asks, “Even when you lose to me?”

Tess scoffs, pulling away fully as Paige laughs. “You’re such an asshole,” she complains, but Paige doesn’t let her get too far before she links their fingers together. Begrudgingly, Tess admits, “I don’t think I can ever lose when it comes to you. Not in a way that matters.”

“The distance really has turned you into a lover girl,” Paige teases.

Tess raises a brow. “Says the girl who slapped my ass like we were teammates after I embarrassed her on TV.”

Paige at least has the decency to look a little caught. “I kinda forgot we weren’t just playing one on one,” she confesses sheepishly, which makes Tess laugh. “Didn’t even see your fuck ass purple jersey. Just my girlfriend doing something cool.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Tess states. “Do you know what I have to hear in the locker room now?”

Paige sighs a little, kissing her teeth. “Trust, I’mma be hearing the same. Rike’s gonna laugh at me for the next week.” She doesn’t look too bothered though; instead, she nudges Tess with a coy grin. “The price we pay for love, right?”

Tess returns the grin, reaching out with her free hand to tug lightly at the hem of Paige’s Wings jersey. “Think you love me enough for a Bueckers-Kennedy jersey swap? Unless you’re too cool for my fuck ass purple jersey.”

“I am feeling charitable today,” Paige muses, but the excited expression on her face betrays her feigned nonchalance. She procures two sharpies from the scorer’s table, hands one to Tess, and pulls off her jersey. Tess tries not to stare too hard at Paige’s figure, but she knows she’ll be trending on Twitter after the clips surface. She can’t find it in herself to mind.

Bracing the jersey over her hand, she signs her name on the 2, and in the 5 she writes, “6.6.25 — long way from 2.8.21, but playing against you for the first time is always a date to remember. To my #5, I love you endlessly and I’m so proud of you.”

She finishes the same time Paige does and they swap their jerseys. Tess laughs in delight when she reads Paige’s message to her — the way she’s dotted her I with a lopsided little heart and how she scribbled in a tiny 2 next to the 5 on her jersey so it looks like 25. “6/6/25 — our first professional game against each other. Here’s to many more. I can’t wait for the first game we play with each other. I love you, #25. There’s no one else I want to do this with.”

“Looks like the distance turned you into a lover girl, too,” Tess jokes.

Paige wrinkles her nose, but the love and affection on her face is evident as she slips Tess’s jersey over her frame, looking far too proud. “Unlike you, I’m not ashamed to admit that,” Paige says, watching Tess do the same. The colors on their jerseys and their shorts don’t exactly match, but neither of them care. “I like this on you.” She tugs a little on the hem to be annoying and Tess swats her hand away. Paige grins.

“You mean it?” Tess asks instead of feeding into Paige’s ego. “You wanna be on the same team in the future?”

Paige’s face softens as she reaches for Tess’s hand. “Course I do. I know we haven’t been doing this very long, but you know I’m crazy about you. I can’t see myself settling down without you.”

Despite herself, Tess smiles, her expression far too tender to be standing in the middle of a basketball court with dozens of reporters milling about. She doesn’t care — as far as she’s concerned, she and Paige are the only ones in the room right now. “I feel the same,” she admits, taking in Paige’s beaming smile. “Just don’t think you can win a championship before me, though.”

Paige scoffs, but there’s no malice behind it, only amusement. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she assures her, wrapping her arms around Tess’s waist and pulling her in to press a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. “We’re 1-0 professionally right now. Think you can keep up?”

Tess laughs, knowing that at the end of the day, she truly doesn’t care about the win record. The distance is hard but it’s times like these that make up for it, when she’s reminded that she has everything she could ever need right in front of her. “You know I can,” she says confidently, and Paige’s grin is full of challenge.

“Then it’s game on.”

ii. i’m not arguing with a woman with pretty blue eyes (whatever you say beautiful)

JULY 2026

The All-Star break had been kind to Tess and Paige.

It was the first time in a while they’d been able to spend so much uninterrupted time together all season – the Wings and the Sparks had obviously been scheduled to play together, but in between flight times and team obligations, they were unable to spend a whole lot of time together before and after their games. With the All-Star game, which they were both (obviously) selected to play in, they both flew in the day before any of the festivities and were able to spend all of Thursday together. On Friday, they were basically attached at the hip for the Skills Challenge and the Three Point Contest (Paige shamelessly cheered for Tess, for the record). And on Saturday, they were on the same team for the All-Star Game. Tess wasn’t sure who allowed that to happen considering the two of them dominated from start to finish, but she sure wasn’t complaining.

It was the first time she’d played a game with Paige. Like, ever. At the All-Star game in 2025, they were on separate teams and they honestly spent the entire time talking shit to each other, much to the chagrin of their respective teammates, who accused them of flirting the entire time. It was most definitely not flirting – Tess at least had the decency to know her and Paige’s actual flirting was not court appropriate, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is that Tess enjoyed playing with Paige. Maybe a little too much because there’s still a lot of time before free agency and she’s honestly not sure if a team could afford them both.

It was back to business following the All-Star break. Tess’s first game back with the Sparks was against the Mercury, who, bless them, were still rebuilding, and got steamrolled by them. Her second game back, however, was at home versus the Wings.

To be honest, she and Paige had gotten a lot better at handling the pre-game emotions. Sure, this game was different considering they’d spent the entirety of the All-Star break together so they weren’t down horrendous like they usually were, but missing each other was something that became easier with time.

Still, during warmups, they shared matching smiles and Paige even wandered over to wish her well. “Good luck scoring without my passes,” she said, which just made Tess roll her eyes.

“You have terrible ball security,” Tess responded, which made Paige’s eye twitch. “Let’s hope you shoot better than you take care of the ball.”

They stared at each other for a minute before giggling like they weren’t pushing 25. Then, they launched into the handshake they’d perfected halfway through their rookie seasons, and the game was underway.

For the most part, it was a typical Sparks vs. Wings game. Tess and Paige always seemed to play their best when it was against each other, which led to exciting match-ups and close games. Tess and Paige usually weren’t each other’s defensive assignments, but when they were, the entire arena seemed to hold its breath – watching the both of them go head to head was like watching two titans clash. They knew each other’s moves, tells, and weaknesses, and usually, it always ended with one of them having to pass the ball to someone else.

Halftime comes and goes and the third quarter begins with the two teams tied. And that’s when Tess’s muscle memory kicks in. She has the ball at the top of the key, scanning for an opening in the defense. Dijonai is stuck to her side – probably one of her toughest defensive match-ups on the Wings with the exception of Paige, and the Wings are playing lockdown coverage. Paige is to her right, locked up with Kelsey, and Kelsey breaks away from her to receive the ball.

Tess and Paige ran this specific play numerous times during the All-Star game. She just needs to kick it out to Kelsey, who’s making the cut, but Tess is thinking too hard about how she was passing the ball to Paige that she accidentally passes to the blonde, instead of Kelsey fucking Plum, her actual teammate. Paige recovers quickly from her confusion and takes it across the court for the easiest layup of her life.

Tess is sure she’s never been more embarrassed in her life. She watches her coach rub her temples in exasperation while the Sparks fans groan. But her coach isn’t calling for a timeout or calling Odyssey over to sub in for her, so she dutifully ignores the blush on her cheeks and tries to lock back in.

Paige is defending her while Kelsey directs traffic, but before she can get too far away, Paige grins mischievously at her, chirping, “Look at you racking up assists all point guard-y and shit. Look for the purple jerseys next time though, a’ight?”

(If Tess drains a three over Paige’s outstretched hand in response, well…that’s no one’s business but her own.)

iii. The Foul (tess and paige’s version)

SEPTEMBER 2027

Tess doesn’t think it’s in her nature to be petty.

At least, she’s not consciously petty. As in – it’s not the front she puts out to the world. Like the time she was feeling a type of way about Maddy Siegrist being weird in Paige’s Instagram comment section and she was being passive aggressive about the entire situation – Tess knew Maddy wasn’t even being weird. She was just upset that she and Paige were moving so far away from each other and regressed into an old version of herself that she didn’t particularly like.

Tess doesn’t like being petty. Or passive aggressive. But sometimes shit just happens and it’s so much easier to retreat into herself and to be silent (for the most part) because as much as she hates it, she feels things too strongly and can’t put her emotions into words in a constructive manner without exploding first. She hates hurting people – especially Paige, and she hates that it’s just so easy to hurt her, too.

The situation wasn’t even anything that deep. Tess knew that, but she’s not sure if her heart does. With the WNBA playoffs approaching, every top team in the league was working harder than ever to secure their seeding. Coach Roberts was working the Sparks to the bone and more often than not, Tess would drag her feet home and collapse into bed the minute she got in. Games were grueling, travel felt harder, and it’s at this point in the season where Tess has to treat herself with a little bit more kindness because it’s so easy for her to catastrophize.

It was nearing 10pm. Tess had just gotten home from an away game versus the Aces. Her body hurt – she took a hard foul from Deja Kelly (at least she got the free throws), she was exhausted, and most of all, she just wanted to hear Paige’s voice. Much like the Sparks, the Wings were at the top of the rankings and were fighting to secure their seeding. She knew Paige was working hard on and off the court. During times like these, it just means that they spend less time on the phone together – mostly because their practice schedules are so rigorous, they’re travelling, time zones suck, and when they do find themselves on FaceTime at night, one of them falls asleep fifteen minutes in.

But now? Tess is at her wits end. She just needs one thing and she’ll be fine. She’s sure there’s someone out there who will say that she has terrible emotional regulation, but all things considered, she really is fine. She has her friends and her teammates whom she relies on and her psychologist. Despite that, she’s just a little lonely in a way only Paige can fix and the exhaustion from the season just makes it worse. She glances down at her phone, taking in the lack of notifications.

Frowning, she opens her message thread with Paige, reading Paige’s last message to her from about an hour ago.

Just landed back in Dallas My phone is almost dead but I’ll try to FT when I’m home I love you 🫶

Tess had responded the same and Paige reacted to her message with the heart emoji. She checks her location, seeing that Paige is at her apartment. Tess knows she’s asleep – she knows this week has been rough on her in between training, playing, and travelling, and as much as Tess hates herself for feeling this way, she can’t help the way the disappointment blooms in her chest like a wildfire. It’s not Paige’s fault – it’s not either of their faults.

She shuts her phone off, plugging it into the charger and leaving it on the nightstand. She rolls onto her side, stretching out in a bed that’s far too big for one person as she pulls one of her pillows to her chest. Early in the morning, she’d be flying out to Dallas for their last game of the regular season against the Wings, and not even that knowledge can keep the frown off of her face.

With that said, Tess would, once again, like to reiterate that it’s not in her nature to be petty. And, truly, the subsequent silent treatment is more for Paige’s benefit than her own. Tess knows herself well enough to realize that when she’s in a terrible mood, speaking usually makes things worse. When she wakes up that morning, she finds an apology from Paige for missing their FaceTime. The worst part is that Paige is genuinely remorseful but Tess is just too stubborn to stop being upset about it.

When they make it to the Wings arena, they dress for warm-ups and head out. Tess is one of the last to leave the locker room, which is unusual for her, but when she makes it into the tunnel, she finds Paige waiting for her, a bouquet of flowers in hand. It makes her soften slightly, feeling a whole lot of guilt for being butthurt over something small, but part of her isn’t ready to let go of her anger.

“Hey,” Paige says, smiling gently like she knows she’s in the doghouse. It would make Tess mad all over again if she wasn’t aware of just how much Paige knew her – Tess knows that Paige knows she’s a little upset, but she’s more upset at herself for feeling upset right now. It’s a weird emotional balance Tess has never been good at explaining. The best thing about Paige is that she’s never needed her to. “I’m sorry for missing our call. I know you’re having a rough week.”

Tess offers a tentative smile, the sight of Paige doing wonders for her tired eyes. “It’s not an excuse to be butthurt. I know you’re not doing any better than me. I’m sorry too.” She takes the flowers from Paige’s outstretched hand, allowing her to pull her into a tight hug, one that she sinks into gratefully.

“I’m not,” Paige agrees with a forlorn sigh. “I passed out in my airport clothes last night. Now I got germs and pathogens and shit on my sheets.”

That makes Tess laugh, her chest feeling loose for the first time in a few weeks. It’s enough to remind her that this – being able to melt into Paige’s arms – is truly all she needed. Her bad mood dissolves, but she can’t bask for too long as Cam’s calling her from the end of the hall. Regretfully, they break away, but Paige presses a gentle kiss to her lips, one that makes her forget what she was moody about in the first place.

The game itself is different. Sparks versus Wings games always are. Maybe it has something to do with how Tess is playing against Paige again or how she’s playing with a smile on her face for the first time in weeks. Whatever the reason, Tess plays with a different kind of fire, a physicality that she doesn’t usually play with. Every time she’s defending Paige, they’re both grinning like they don’t have a shot clock ticking down or a seeding on the line, but the issue comes late in the fourth quarter.

The game is tied – as it always is – and Tess has possession of the ball with Paige sticking close by for defense. Cam steps in for a screen, but Paige doesn’t bite. Instead, in a rare move for the blonde, she accidentally barrels into Tess, who’s already off-balance from an uncharacteristic step-off. Tess lands flat on her ass while the ref calls the foul on Paige, who again, seems remorseful, but there’s a lingering, mischievous amusement in her gaze.

Paige steps behind her, arms wrapping around Tess’s waist and helping pull her up while she pushes herself to her feet. Paige is absolutely fucking shameless – her hands pressed tight to her stomach and her body pressing into Tess’s back like they’re in a dark corner of the club instead of in the middle of the court in a sold out arena. Tess turns on her heel, raising one brow in near disbelief at her girlfriend, who grins like she hasn’t done anything wrong, her hands in the air.

“You’re actually unbelievable,” Tess says, shaking her head, but she can’t keep the smile off her face.

“Was just tryna help you up,” Paige argues, still looking smug as ever, but she backs away, calling, “I’ll make it up to you!”

Tess rolls her eyes, a blush on her cheeks but her grin lingers. The ref passes the ball off to Kelsey to inbound and just like that – the game’s back underway, and all Tess can really do is smile.

iv. she wanted some of my deliciousness

OCTOBER 2028

Of course the first year the Sparks make it to the WNBA Championship, they’re up against the Wings.

Tess can’t even be surprised about it. Every championship she plays in always seems to have Paige on the other end of it, but honestly, she likes it this way. The games against Paige are always nail biters. They were the two people in the league who hated losing the most.

Knowing that, Tess really should have expected for the WNBA Championship to go to a game seven. Tess and the Sparks won the first match, then the Wings won the second and the third. The Sparks bounced back with the fourth and the fifth – both incredibly hard fought games for Tess, and then the Wings tied the series on the sixth game.

Tess has played against this Wings roster numerous times. She knows their strengths, their weaknesses, their physicality. But she honestly wasn’t prepared for how grueling a seven game, winner takes all series against them would be. Nobody made it more difficult for her than Paige did. She was on one from game one through game six, never once faltering, but Tess was never one to back down.

Game seven was different – for both of them. Paige was locked in from the get-go, banking in contested shots like it was effortless, directing traffic like she knew every one of the Sparks’ plays before Kelsey even called for them. She was a menace on defense, her expression one of pure fire, grit, and determination. More than anything, there was a simmering frustration. Tess could see that she was picking up the slack where her teammates were falling short. They were missing costly shots, forcing uncharacteristic passes that transformed into turnovers.

It all culminated late in the fourth quarter – the Sparks held a slim four point lead, one that Paige had cut from nine herself after a deep three and a contested midrange jumper. Tess was guarding her, her Coach having made the adjustment after she realized that Paige was taking the game into her own hands. Paige is at the top of the key, dribbling the ball and waiting for the perfect opening as her offense shifts. She steps forward, pressing Tess, but in her haste to set a screen, one of Paige’s teammates bumps harshly into Tess, sending her right into Paige’s body and knocking her down.

And somehow, in the haze of confusion, the foul is called on Tess instead of Maddy fucking Siegrist, and she’s pushing herself to her feet to plead her case to the ref when Paige starts chirping like it wasn’t her teammate’s fault.

“What the fuck was that?” Paige exclaims, her frustration and exhaustion bubbling over. Tess just blinks at her, the Wings staring at Paige hesitantly, unsure of if she’s actually pissed or if this was just a Tess and Paige thing that’s not actually that serious. They’re competitors – they argue and fight on the court, but off of it, it’s like it’s never happened. She waves her arms, gesturing widely in a way that reminds Tess of her father when he’s heated, and all she can do is raise a brow because there’s no way Paige is actually crashing out at her right now. “That’s a fucking flagrant, Tess, what the f–”

Tired of hearing her complain, Tess leans forward to plant a kiss right on Paige’s lips, shutting her up while the refs step in, pushing them away from each other. Paige just blinks in confusion while Tess grins smugly, always wanting to recreate that Diana Taurasi and Seimone Augustus clip but never having the optimal opportunity for it. “You can apologize to me later!” Tess calls, letting Cameron drag her away from the scene. “Coach, please tell me you’re challenging that call?”

Her coach does challenge it, the refs giving the personal foul to Maddy instead, as it should be. Tess watches Paige from across the court, her expression softening with guilt as she watches the replay.

(For the record, Paige does apologize later, after the celebrations and Tess has taken sufficient pictures with the championship trophy. And, she supposes, Paige makes up for it with interest a month later in Italy when she proposes, and Tess finds that she likes this ring a whole lot more than the one she’d won.)

v. bonus: the one time tess and paige remembered they were on the same team

MAY 2029

The last time Tess had ever played in what felt like a monumental preseason game, it was her first preseason game in the WNBA as a Los Angeles Spark. They’re preseason for a reason – the stats don’t count and they’re just a good way of seeing how your team stacks up against other people in the league.

But this game? This one is different.

She’s dressed head to toe in the Valkyries purple uniform, BUECKERS-KENNEDY stitched proudly on the back. To her right, Paige, wearing a matching uniform, last name on the back and all, stretches her legs out one last time before tip-off against Tess’s old team, the Sparks. And, to be honest, Tess can’t believe that they’re here, together, on the same team after so many years of being competitors. She can’t believe the Valkyries actually signed the both of them, that the team has welcomed the both of them in with open arms, but this opportunity feels more like a blessing than anything else. It feels like a Welcome to the first day of your future.

Tess and Paige had bought a house in the Bay. They would settle down here, retire as Golden State Valkyries. They both knew they’d end up coaching somewhere along the line. They knew they’d raise their children here when the time came. Right now, it just feels like the perfect prelude to forever, the perfect capstone to an arduous journey. While the hard part of it is over, Tess knows that the rest of her life will be an adventure as long as Paige is in it.

Paige catches her wrist, smiling softly at her when she startles. “You good?” she asks gently. There were still a few moments until tipoff, but the fact that Paige is taking the time now to check in with Tess makes her feel warm all over.

“Yeah,” Tess responds, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face. “I’m perfect.” Paige’s eyes search hers, knowing instinctively that Tess wants to say more but granting her the time to find her words. “I’m just happy we get to do this together,” she admits. “You’re the only one I want to do this with.”

Paige’s grin turns a little tender, affection shining in her gaze. “How’s forever sound?”

Tess’s smile widens. “Perfect.”

They line up for tip-off, taking their respective places. Before the ref walks over with the ball, Paige calls out to her, “Remember to write this on your jersey, too. May 4th, 2029. Just another first game, yeah?” Tess is sure she looks a little strange – smiling before the game’s even started, but she can’t find it in herself to mind too much.

Paige assists her on her first three as a Valkyrie. It’s a little full circle, she thinks, for her first points to be scored with her wife. For Paige’s first assist to be to her. It’s every bit as monumental as she’d expected.

And, sure, it’s just a preseason match-up, but Tess finds that she really likes hearing, “Bueckers-Kennedy to Bueckers-Kennedy for three…it’s good!”

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ lacy, oh, lacy, matt sturniolo

ex!matt sturniolo x ex!fem reader

synopsis. in which your ex boyfriend matt gets a new girlfriend and you envy her.

warnings. angst, self comparison, ex!matt, jealousy.

word count. 700 words.

authors note. this is my fav song on guts :(

you were scrolling mindlessly through instagram, half-distracted by the show playing in the background, when it hits you like a punch in the gut.

matt’s name.

you almost swipe past it, the little blue checkmark drawing your attention before your brain has time to catch up. the first photo in the carousel is enough to make your chest tighten; matt’s unmistakable smile, wild and carefree, his arm slung casually around the waist of a girl who is undeniably beautiful.

she’s perfect in a way that feels cruel. her hair is shiny and soft, her skin glowing like she exists in some perpetually golden hour. she’s wearing a baby pink skirt and a white tank top, that made you second-guess every piece of clothing you ever owned. and matt—he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing that matters, his gaze full of that rare blend of comfort and adoration that used to be reserved for you.

your fingers hovered over the screen, but the curiosity wins. you click on her profile—never a good idea.

her name is lacy, a name as delicate and ethereal as she looks. her bio is full of cute emojis, and her feed is an endless stream of photos that make her seem both unreachable heartbreakingly real. there are candids of her laughing with friends, aesthetic shots of iced-lattes and sunsets, flawless photos of her, and of course, more pictures of her with matt.

each photo was a dagger.

you scroll further, unable to stop yourself. there’s a photo of her in a bikini that hugged her perfect body in all the right ways, standing on the beach, her arms wrapped around matt as he leans down to kiss her forehead. the stunning sunset in the background really setting the scene.

you hate her. you hate how easily she seems to slot into the life that used to be yours. you hate the way she seems so effortlessly happy, like she’s never had to sit in her room crying after seeing someone else post photos like this. most of all, you hate how much she reminds you of everything you’re not.

lacy was kind. you could tell by the way people commented under her posts, by the stories where she’s tagged with the captions like “the sweetest person alive” and “my literal angel.” she’s funny, too, with captions that actually made you laugh even though you resented her for it. and then there’s the way she looks at matt in every picture. it’s the kind of look you recognised because it used to be yours.

and matt—he’s happy. he looks like he’s found the thing he’s been searching for.

it feels like a slap in the face.

you tell yourself to stop. to close the app, put your phone down, and do literally anything else. but instead, you go back to his post, lingering on the comment section. the flood of heart emojis and “you two are perfect” messages like tiny arrows, each one reminding you that this is his life now.

he doesn’t think about you anymore.

the realisation hits harder than you expect. it’s not like you thought he was still pining for you, but seeing it laid out in front of you—proof that he’s moved on, that he’s happy—makes your stomach churn.

you close instagram and toss your phone onto your bed next to you, but the damage is done. lacy is burned into your mind now, an image you can’t shake. you think about her at random moments, comparing yourself to her in ways that feel pathetic but impossible to stop.

would matt have loved you more if you’d been more like her? if you’d laughed more or dressed better or been softer around the edges?

you hate how much you care.

it’s not just jealousy—it’s grief. for what you had with matt, for the person you were when you were with him. for the version of you that thought she was enough.

you try to tell yourself it’s just a passing feeling, that in a few days this ache will dull into something manageable. but tonight, it’s sharp and all-consuming, and it’s hard not to feel like lacy has taken more than matt from you.

she’s taken the version of yourself that felt loved.

and you can’t stop wondering if you’ll ever get her back.

[no-vara]

Survivors + [Reader ex survivor turning killer] Forsaken! Part 1! (Tw: Death, guilt, weapons, self doubt)

I hope you enjoy! (Ps the start is when their a survivor, they’ll soon be a killer in the next few parts!)

Reader gets She/They!

You were once a survivor, key word: once. You were a support class with the ability to stun! You had the ability to highlight the killer on the map, and summon ice chains that would hold the killer down for 5 seconds. It was great since then people could attack the killer!

In the real world you came from a family known for being professional ice skaters. You had no idea why you were sent to this blasted realm. Imagine your face when you woke up in a cabin with people you never knew. But don’t worry you got the hang of it fast!

You often stayed near people like Elliot and Chance to help protect them, in the end your efforts were futile and useless. The killer would always win. Every single round.

Over

And over.

It was exhausting, mentally and physically. Plus being the only female in the cabin made you a little annoyed, even if you never admitted it. You would curse out the Specter whenever you were alone in your cabin and you would silently pray to one day be released. Those prayers were never answered—not like you knew who you were praying to.

You got along with everyone! Almost everyone…you were told to stay away from 007n7 and Two Time was a little…no they were very insane. Always trying to convince you to join their cult—which you always politely declined. Onetime you had to use your ice chain ability on them just to run away when they were nagging you.

Dinner was both a blessing and a curse in disguise, you usually ate silently as you played with the cheese on the pizza. You preferred cold food but you weren’t going to admit it. You always thanked Elliot for the lovely meals.

But this round was different….

You helped everyone like usual, holding the killer down, doing generators, dying in the end, and trying to survive. Utterly failing. You hated the heat due to practically living in an ice rink. It was so hot you almost passed out, the moment the round ended you left the safety of the cabin to find some cool fresh air.

As you explored the outdoors it was cooler, it made your gut twist for home. The cool air was refreshing to say the least. Then you heard a sound. Shit did you wander into the killers zone?

And not to your surprise you did. You walked in on them, actually acting like real people…. You couldn’t believe it. C00lkidd was playing tag with Noli as 1x4 was sharpening his sword. Jason and John were most likely out on patrol, or that whats the survivors called it. They would survey their area seeing if they could find any food or survivors. Azure’s hat was just talking to him. You decided to ‘stalk’ them for a little bit, wanting to see what information you could gain.

You pressed your hand on the tree branch in front of you to pull yourself up but instead it—

Snapped.

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself, as you raised your gaze back up. 1x4 was already staring directly in your direction.

You closed your eyes as if that would turn you invisible but he was walking your way. Thankfully, luck was on your side—or the Specter was.

The next round immediately started as you and the rest were all teleported, 1x4 being the killer. So much for not dying to him…. What was the point of the round starting if you were gonna die to the same person?

Should you give up? No. The other survivors needed you.

You spawned in next to 007n7 and Two Time. He immediately went down and placed a ritual point as 007n7 walked away to find the nearest generator, not wasting time for chit-chat. You sighed not knowing what to do before heading the opposite direction of the rest.

It wasn’t long before you heard a scream and a gunshot. Chance nonetheless. You rushed to the area, ready to hold 1x4 down if necessary. But you still couldn’t forget how peaceful they all looked when they weren’t killing you.

No, they weren’t human. Stop thinking that. Focus.

“Hm?” A voice asked from behind as they followed you, it was Elliot! Shoot—did you say that out loud?

“Sorry—didn’t mean to think out loud. I’m just reflecting.” You apologized as the two of you continued to run in the direction of the yelling.

“No, don’t apologize [Reader], it’s fine! I didn’t mean to startle you.” He cleared up giving you a genuine smile.

You smiled back as you turned your sights back to the pure havoc that 1x4 was causing. Chance was barely surviving, he missed his shot and was running for his life, flipping his coin mid air. Elliot threw a pizza at him as you brought the chains up to hold 1x4 down. Somehow 1x4 dodged them for the first time ever.

The killers could do that?!

Pure horror reflected in your eyes as you screamed for Chance and Elliot to run—NOW, as 1x4 set his sights on them. You didn’t know what else to do as he threw his spiny blade and cut them in half in one swoop.

You were just blankly staring, crying as your tears clogged your eyes and blurred your vision. You had seen them die before but this was different. You didn’t have time to react as 1x4 dashed at you and soon made you have the same fate as Chance and Elliot.

Once the round ended you were curled up in a ball as everyone discussed tactics on what to do next. Eventually when they realized you were crying they all turned their sights on you questioning what was wrong. Elliot took you to your cabin room so you didn’t have to deal with the amount of questions, as he answered them himself from what he knew.

And 1x4 wasn’t the only one who found out how to dodge your chains. First it was him, then Noli, then C00lkid, Azure, Jason and finally John. It was infuriating. You kept trying over and over again to hit them and trap them and you kept failing. People like Guest and Elliot opted to help you but even with them you failed.

Every failure was just another stab in the gut. You were worthless without this one ability, even if you had another. Every round you kept trying and failing, every time you failed someone died. Eventually you were too predictable, your anger just made it easier to dodge. C00lkidd was a nuisance because he would always ‘playfully’ tease you about it. Same with Noli.

You just. Couldn’t do this anymore. But you had to try.

Want me to write something that YOU can ask for? Just ask me on my page! Make sure to read the pinned rules!

[wrongtvrns]

"What's that saying... there's no place like home?" It was a phrase that had made her grin. While she hadn't been born in Woodside much of her formative years had been spent here, growing up. "I think I saw or hear about a statistic once about how the majority of people end up close to where they had grown up." It felt true yet also didn't in the same breath. "So, who knows, you could be back to what you truly know in no time." The brunette couldn't keep a soft smile off her face. It was a breath of fresh air to have someone she considered a good friend close by once again. The warmth of it felt especially needed. Comforting and familiar when she felt left out in the cold. "I'm saying the word so you better be there!" Kira laughed. "My ex, Leti, got traded to the team so I can definitely use some support in the stands." The fans were incredible but it was different when it was someone you knew personally and had a history with.

"Hawaii... wow," she blinked at Dylan, a little stunned because she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to move away from such a place once she'd settled in. Especially since her ties in Woodside had dried up. "Which island? Yeah, I get it, you left that tropical climate and pretty beaches for this ten degree, snowy heaven..." A smirk planted at the corner of her mouth, she was joking, and while she didn't mind where she lived the winters were brutal. "You're welcome! What's her name, fill me in!" She'd detected something weighted, tentative under the surface but she didn't want to call it out. Hopefully there was plenty of hanging out and catching up in their future now that he was living here. Did the idea of marriage scare him or were things rocky because he'd drug his fiancée out of island bliss? "At least one of us is doing okay in the love department." The brunette wasn't sure if Dylan had caught the very public news of her breakup, or how quickly she'd picked up a boyfriend. One that she needed to find a way to dump.

It was so nice to chat with someone that was so perceptive. Maybe it was a nod to their connection and friendship, or maybe Dylan was just good at reading the unsaid. Either way it made Kira smile when he acknowledged the importance of the something more. "Yeah, it's just kind of bittersweet winning with your ex but then can't celebrate with her. Can't come home and celebrate with family because they won't talk to me, so... it's been lonely." Once more he prompted her smile to stretch wider and Kira reached out to squeeze his arm. "I'm here for you, too. We definitely need to have a serious catchup, beyond this surprise."

Dylan chuckled softly at Kira's comment, feeling a warmth spread through him at the joy in her voice. He'd always appreciated her adventurous spirit, the way she embraced change, and the thrill of the unknown. "You're right," he agreed his tone light. "I'm sure being away can bring a lot of growth… but it's nice to come back, too." It's how he felt whenever he ended up back in Colorado whether it was to spend time with his moms or reconnect with his childhood friends. "The nice thing about a small world is that I get to catch up with old friends like you. I can't complain about that. And hey, I'd love some tickets to those games. Say the word and I’ll be there!" The thought of getting to support them, cheering her on from the stands, certainly sounds like a great way to spend some time. Heck, it could help his fiancé find her footing here too.

"I moved from Hawaii. It's… been a lot. A lot of good things, but still, everything feels different. New. You know how it is." Life doesn’t stop just because you get a new address. Dylan was used to the rhythm of relocating and adapting but when it came to supporting his partner in it, he was struggling slightly. When Kira squeezed his arm in excitement, his heart lifted a little. "Thanks, Kira. It still feels a bit surreal. It happened a few months ago, back in May." They hadn't talked about the wedding plans, but it felt more like him dragging his feet than her and he knew it was about time he ought to be honest with his fiancée.

Her mention of her gold medal brought a proud smile upon his face, though he could tell there was something more under the surface. "Kira, that’s huge. A gold medal is no small thing." Familiar with the competitive spirit of an athlete, Dylan thought she was being way too hard on herself. "But I get it. Sometimes you just want more than what’s on the surface, right?" He paused, giving her a look that said everything he couldn’t quite express. "Now that our paths have reconnected I hope you know I'm here if you ever need me, Kir."

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon Worldbuilding Headcanons

Exactly what it says in the title. Some are based on the game, some on the anime, and some directly contradict both because the Pokemon lore is made up and your feelings don’t matter.

Biology

Pokemon heal faster when unconscious or asleep--thus, they faint easily from pain or exhaustion in order to recuperate.

During evolution, a Pokemon converts itself into energy and reforms itself. Evolution is optional, and a Pokemon can choose if and when it evolves. Evolution is triggered by both an environmental circumstance (ex: winning a battle), and by the Pokemon storing up energy over time until it has enough to transform.

Stress evolutions are when a Pokemon evolves prematurally in order to win a battle or when they’re in a life-or-death situation. This can result in the evolution being smaller than normal and possibly weaker as well.

“Trade evolutions” are a loose grouping of Pokemon that typically evolve when they start working with a new trainer. The exact reasons for the evolution varies by individual, and therefore can have multiple causes.

Ex: a Pokemon may evolve after it learns something from someone else. While the easiest way to achieve this is through trade, they may also evolve by training under a wiser, older Pokemon.

Trade evolutions are somewhat rare in the wild, but not unheard of.

Pokemon that evolve via stones cannot store enough energy to evolve naturally. The stones contain extra energy that they can tap into in order to aid in evolution.

Everstones work similar to sponges; they absorb the extra energy a Pokemon would normally store up to evolve, thus preventing them from doing so. They’re mostly used for medical purposes (as a Pokemon evolving when badly injured could worsen its injuries) and to help prevent stress evolutions in Pokemon that don’t want to evolve.

Pokemon types are based on the type of energy they utilize, rather than moves or appearance. Ex: Charizard is not dragon-type despite looking like a dragon because it doesn’t use dragon-type energy. New energies are discovered all the time and Pokemon are reclassified as needed.

Pokemon typing also changes as they (Darwinian) evolve. A Pokemon that’s normal/grass used to be normal-type, has started to gain grass-typing, and will eventually be only grass-type.

Humans are descended from Pokemon. They used to be psychic-type before becoming normal-type and then losing their typing all together. At this point they no longer are energy-based nor do they lay eggs, so they’re considered a separate-but-related family.

This is why some people still show psychic powers; those abilities never completely went away in some bloodlines.

Pokemon have been domesticated for so long that there’s actually no such thing as a “wild” Pokemon anymore (with the exception of legendaries). Wild Pokemon are technically feral, and any given Pokemon will quickly adapt to living with humans if caught.

Pokemon used to look different hundreds of years ago, and have slowly undergone Darwinian evolution over time as they were domesticated.

“Most trainers will legendaries shortly after their journey starts” statistic false. Most trainers will see no legendaries in their lifetimes. Ash Ketchum, who’s seen every single legendary in existence, is an outlier and should not be counted

However, areas where legendaries are known to live are oftentimes marked as no-catch conservation areas. People will oftentime travel to these parks to admire “common” legendaries (such as the bird trio) in their natural habitats.

Battles

Not knocking out a Pokemon you’re trying to capture is more of a honored rule than a law. The reason it’s done is to give the Pokemon ample time to flee--otherwise, someone may one-shot a Pokemon that doesn’t want a trainer, resulting in the Pokemon being unfairly knocked out and the trainer wasting their time.

If you give the Pokemon time to flee and it chooses to stay and fight, it’s potentially interested in accepting you as a trainer and you just have to prove yourself. If it flees, you should leave it alone.

Pokemon used for battles are specifically trained to not cause permanent harm or injury to their opponents (ex: that fire blast isn’t as hot as it could be, so it’ll only cause minor burns instead of third-degree ones). While the attacks used might look violent and cause some pain, serious injuries are very rare.

Wild Pokemon are also pretty good at restraining themselves if they’re just battling for fun or to test a trainer. They will not, however, restrain themselves if they feel threatened or are hunting. Trainers are advised to use caution when fighting wild Pokemon and return their Pokemon to their balls if necessary.

Psychic-types (Mr. Mime especially) are used to create protective barriers around arenas/trainers to protect people from flying debris and stray attacks.

Refs always have a few Pokemon on hand that know moves like stun spore or sleep powder in order to stop any fights that get out of hand.

Pokeballs

While some trainers different Pokemon by using different types of Pokeballs, decorating them is also a popular way to do it. Some people draw symbols or initials on the buttons, some add stickers, some paint them, ect.

Stores also sell semi-transparent hard shells that snap over the balls. These come in different colors and designs, so you can have a Pokeball that has a galaxy design on top instead of plain red if you want.

Most trainers keep about 40 some Pokemon or less, which they rotate between their party, the PC, and daycares/Pokemon sitters to keep them enriched and active. Some people keep more, but they generally spend all of their time caring for them and therefore aren’t trainers.

The general rule of thumb is to not leave a Pokemon in the PC for more than two weeks. If you fail to take them out after a month, they will be automatically removed and released back into the wild.

Pokeballs create little miniature simulations of nature, making them feel bigger on the inside. Different types of pokeballs have different or more advanced simulations, which may increase how much a Pokemon likes being in it.

Pokeballs create an invisible “tag” for the Pokemon by altering their energy when they’re first caught. These tags affect nothing, but Pokeballs are programmed to automatically check for one before they’ll activate.

Many poachers and other illegal groups produce their own illegal Pokeballs that do not check for tags before capture.

If a Pokeball breaks, it automatically releases the Pokemon inside and removes their tag.

Tags fade after about a month to allow for other trainers to capture a Pokemon after it’s been permanently released. The tag is automatically refreshed every time a Pokemon is brought back into its ball.

The standard Pokeball pattern is based off of the patterns of the Foongus line. Pokemon are very attracted to their markings, so the balls are painted the same to make the Pokemon like them more.

Eggs

Rather than combining genetics, Pokemon reproduce by combining their energy together (this looks a bit like two Pokemon evolving at the same time). Because of this, they lack reproductive organs and chromosomes.

Gender is a loosely defined concept for them. Pokemon can change their sex upon evolution if they want to, and some will change their sex over time (ex: legendaries are usually genderless, but will gain a sex to breed and then lose it again afterward).

If a Pokemon doesn’t display sexual dimorphism, the only way to determine their sex is to have a Pokemon Center do a blood test.

Eggs aren’t laid, but created. The pregnant Pokemon fosters energy in their body. When ready they separate the extra energy from themselves (once again, looks a bit like evolution), which forms into the egg. This causes them no pain, and means they have short gestation periods.

This also means Pokemon never look pregnant. The only way to tell is by getting them tested or paying attention to changes in behavior. Many trainers end up with eggs out of nowhere because they had no idea one of their Pokemon was pregnant to begin with.

In the wild, some species of Pokemon will lay hundreds of eggs (such as fish and bug Pokemon) to ensure their survival. In captivity, Pokemon rarely create more than 1 or 2 eggs at a time, likely because they understand their young are safe with their trainers.

Pokemon develop more quickly in their eggs than IRL animals. They can technically hatch shortly after the egg is made, but they usually spend extra time inside maturing. By the time the egg hatches, the baby already has fur/feathers/whatever, and can walk and eat solid food. This helps ensure their survival against predators.

Young Pokemon are differentiated by being “mature” or “immature”; an immature Pokemon will still gradually grow and change appearance, while a mature one is fully grown until it evolves. A Pokemon cannot evolve until it’s considered mature (excluding mega evolution for single-stagers).

To use Vulpix as a canon example: a newly hatched immature Vulpix is about 8 in tall and has one white tail. A mature Vulpix is about 2 ft tall and has six red tails.

In the wild, Pokemon mostly breed amongst their own species. The exception are Pokemon with uneven gender ratios (so if a Pokemon is 7:1 male vs female, the males will actively breed with anything in their egg group). Inter-species breeding among captive Pokemon is much more common, and usually based on the Pokemon’s personal preferences.

Hybridization in Pokemon born from two different parents is very rare, but it does happen from time to time. It’s more common in Pokemon that look similar or are distantly related.

“Perfect” hybrids, Pokemon that have equal amounts of traits from both parents as well as typing and abilities, are more sought after than shinies. They usually can’t breed due to their mix of energies.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and  hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I saw a request for more content with the kids, and I thought I’d do short one for each. Each of these stories is going to be based off something either they’ve said, someone else has said about them, or something that’s been reported just because I feel like I have even less of a sense of them (for obvious reasons) than Brigitte and Emmanuel, but I wanted to give this a go.

Sebastian’s is based on Brigitte’s comments that he came to "train" Emmanuel in the gardens of La Lanterne for the charity football match last year.

Hope the requesting Anon (and everyone else) enjoys it.

(PS. I was planning on sending some Christmas fics closer to the holiday, and I have an idea for one for his birthday I was going to send around then, but if people want me to move up the timeline…)

I. Sebastian

"Come on. Give it your best shot! I don’t want you going easy on me," Emmanuel teased, aware his training partner has been holding back.

"If either of us get hurt, you know maman is going to kill us," Sebastian replied.

"That’s true," he sighed. "She had very strict instructions -"

"Have fun, but don’t get injured," they said in union with a smile.

"You and I both know it’s not a good idea to make her angry. And at least I’d get to go home afterwards " Sebastian winked.

"You’d leave me here, potentially injured, suffering the consequences for both of us?" Emmanuel asked, in mock offense.

"You should have learned by now, the three of us aren’t above using you to clean up our messes with her, Manu."

"That’s true. Although, you have been better behaved on that end than your sisters," he paused for a moment, hearing back in his head how that sounded. "Don’t tell them I said that."

"My lips are sealed. Now come on, you’re not going to get any better just standing there!"

"Hey!" He replied, this time genuinely a little offended as he worked to get possession of the ball.

A couple of hours later, both thoroughly exhausted from actually giving it their best effort, the score long forgotten (at a certain point, fighting over where or not something counted lost it’s appeal, as the friendly became less about the winning and more about being together), they heard a call from inside the residence.

"Boys! Come in for showers and dinner please!"

"Five more minutes?" Sebastian asked just as he did when he was a child.

Brigitte rolled her eyes, recognizing no matter how grown her children get, somethings never change (and are often passed down to her grandchildren, left to a new generation to use in causing their chaos and terror). "No! Your children are getting rowdy, and your wife and I don’t know how much longer we can keep them entertained before we have to feed them."

Emmanuel walked over and patted him on the back, "we better get in there. If she’s complaining they must be a handful."

"Why do you think I want the extra five minutes? I’m just kidding. I love those kids."

"You’re an excellent father."

"Yeah? Well I had a few really good role models of how to parent."

"Your mother is remarkable. Everything she did to raise and protect you all -"

"Yeah. She is. So was my father, all things considered. It wasn’t easy for anyone."

"That’s true," Emmanuel chimed in awkwardly, still unsure how to respond when his wife’s ex comes up in conversation and trying to move it along as they approached the doors.

Sebastian reached out and caught Emmanuel’s arm before he could enter into the chaos awaiting them inside, "and so are you."

"Me?" he asked, stunned.

"This may not be an unconventional step-father, step-son relationship, but you have been the best step-father I could have asked for, and are the best grandfather to my kids. And there is a lot the rest of the world could learn about how to love from you."

Hellooooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Omg my heart! If this was not one of the most adorable things ever 🥺 Oh I have a feeling you are going to absolutely melt my heart with these little stories with their kids 🤧🥰

Emmanuel and Sebastian training together, like best buddies hahaha and trying their best not to piss off Brigitte hahaha like proper dad and son 🤧 😍

And their little conversation at the end and Sebastian’s words to Emmanuel... oh I have something in my eye hahaha 🥰😍

Thank you so much and cannot wait for the other kids side of the stories! ❤️❤️❤️

[erule]

The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Warnings: frat boy Tom, angst, nakedness (nothing sexual though, no smut in this chapter), mention of sex, implied smut, cliffhanger at the end, jealous Tom, language, OC Oliver, violence (one punch), blood, plot twists.

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, I’m back! Have you seen Tom’s recent pics in Monaco?? He looked amazing! Anyway, I don’t know why, but I just had to write a fic with frat boy!Tom, so enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Chapter 1

Break up with my ex girlfriend

Frat parties. Am I right? Worst part of college life. A lot of people drink to forget about their grades and how their lives went wrong, while someone’s just hoping to have some fun with them (if you know what I mean). For the first year, I hated them with passion, but it was before I met him. At a frat party. Oh, the irony! And then, frat parties were the only chance I had to actually talk to him. It didn’t take us long enough to start dating. I think that adults tell you fairy tales to make you grow up with a hope, the hope to find your real happy ending, your true love. Well, I wasn’t used to believe in them, but the year I spent with Tom… that was close to the definition of happy ending. The problem with happy endings? They don’t tell you what happens after them. And that’s because they’re a nightmare.

“Tell me that now or you’re not gonna find me in this bed tomorrow”, he says and there’s a part of me that wants to die right here and right now. I shake my head. I don’t want to do that. Not because I don’t feel anything for him, but I’m scared that this will complicate things between us and it’s the last thing I want. “Are you serious, Y/N? You really think that saying something like that during sex doesn’t count? Calling someone on the phone means something, even if you’re drunk as Hell. So tell me what you really feel about me right now or I swear, I’m out of this room. I’m out of this kind of weird relationship that’s going on between us for years,” Tom says and the veins on his arms draw a beautiful map on his body, in which the moles are cities and his eyes are volcanoes. They’re burning, unlike my skin, that is freezing because I’m not wearing anything at the moment. Except for my shame, perhaps. My insecurities, that never leave me. Even in front of Tom.

“You don’t mean that,” I try to say, my mouth dry. But he’s insanely angry. In another situation, it would be hot.

“I do, Y/N,” he replies. I swallow. His expression softens, like he’s in pain. He comes closer to me, brushing my cheeks with his hands. My eyes are full of tears. His words feel like a prayer on my skin. “Please, tell me”.

And even if I don’t wanna do that, my hands are tied. Even if that’s a lie. I remain in silence. One second after that, he’s gone. Tom always keeps his promises, after all.

2 months before

Harrison sat down with a strange look on his face. It only meant one thing for Tom: trouble. He sighed, throwing away the third cigarette of the day. Jacob raised an eyebrow, trying to get rid of the stench of smoke with one hand.

“I thought you wanted to quit smoking,” Jacob said.

“Relax, I only smoke before finals now,” Tom said. “What’s up, mate? Come on, talk”.

Harrison raised a corner of his lips in a smirk.

“Rumor has it, that Oliver’s got a girlfriend,” he said.

“No way!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom said, laying on the grass with his hands behind his neck, glancing at a couple of girls who were passing by.

“I haven’t said the best part yet, though,” Harrison continued. Jacob urged him to speak further. “He’s gonna throw a party for his birthday and he’ll introduce her to his friends. But since we’re his friends, I was wondering why I haven’t told us anything about this gal in weeks. So I played Sherlock Holmes for a couple of hours and I found out that… we actually know this girl,” he said.

“I bet she’s someone of the campus,” Tom joked, as if it was obvious.

“I bet she’s someone’s ex girlfriend,” Jacob replied.

Harrison remained quiet, but he was smiling.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tom said, astonished, while sitting on the grass again.

“I won!” Jacob yelled.

“Who’s she? I hooked up with…”

“Ex girlfriend, Tom. It’s not some random girl you hooked up with. She’s someone you remember very well,” Harrison said.

“So we’re talking about me, uh? Well, let’s see… is it Janine? We lasted two weeks, I wouldn’t be mad about her,” he shrugged. Harrison swallowed.

“It’s someone you would be mad about,” Jacob guessed. “And there’s just one person that you would be mad about”.

Tom’s eyes widened at the realization.

“He’s fucking dead”.

Two days after that conversation, here they were: the three of them were laying with their backs on the wall like they were sustaining it from falling down. Tom had threatened Oliver with a Dare to explain, mate?, but his answer was just an I’m sorry Tom, but she’s just your ex. I don’t have to ask for your permission. Or does this mean that you’re still not over her? So, since Tom values too much his pride, he said that he was over her and that Oliver was right, he didn’t have to ask for his permission. Oliver apologized for not telling him that before and then walked away, leaving Tom to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes. Tom was watching Oliver talking with Elizabeth, one of your friends, when he saw you and Zendaya arrive at the party. In his opinion, you were stunning. You immediately caught his gaze. You just never failed to amaze him, even after a year. His heart ached at the view, but it ached even more when you greeted Oliver. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, clenching your hand in a fist. It seemed like you were uncomfortable. So, he came up with a plan to save you.

“Wait for me here,” he said to his friends, then he walked fast to reach you. “Hey mate, happy birthday!” Tom said to Oliver, who hugged him.

“Thanks, Tom. I think that you already know Y/N, Lizzie and Z,” he said and you smiled along with your friends, even if you looked more surprised than happy.

“Of course, I do,” Tom said, looking directly at you. You looked down. “Could I please talk to Y/N? We haven’t been in touch for quite some time and I’d like to catch up with her,” he asked.

“Sure!” Oliver said, while Zendaya seemed looking at you with a concerned expression. You winked at her.

Tom made you move away from Oliver by brushing your back, walking to the next exit. He lowered his voice in order to talk with you only, speaking to your hear: “You look ravishing, darling”.

He noticed that you closed your eyes for a very long second, but you didn’t say a word about that.

“Are you here to show that you still own me or something?”

“I don’t own you, darling. You’re absolutely free to do anything you like,” he said, lighting a cigarette outside the building.

“Z said you wanted to quit smoking,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I only smoke before finals”.

“Finals were yesterday,” you replied.

“Are we here to talk about me or you? I noticed that you were uncomfortable with Oliver, but I thought that you were his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

You smirked.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re jealous”.

“Nah, If I’d be jealous, you would know, trust me,” Tom said, with a playful tone.

“What would you do?” You asked, curiousity eating you alive. You wanted to know so bad if he still had feelings for you.

“Don’t play with fire, darling. You’re gonna burn your pretty hands, otherwise,” he replied, running a finger over his lip. Shivers ran through your spine, but you hoped that Tom didn’t notice it.

“Don’t try to seduce me, Holland. You’re not gonna win this time,” you said, chuckling. “And for the record, we’re not dating. He’s just insistent,” you explained.

Tom looked inside and saw Oliver staring at the two of you. An idea came up into his mind and he couldn’t quite get rid of it. It was smart, but also terrifying. It was very dangerous, yet he had to try.

“We could be in a fake relationship. It could fool everyone,” he proposed.

You turned to look at him, astonished.

“Even after what happened?”

Tom’s eyes were locked with yours, but his facial muscles didn’t move at all. If he still was hurt by the reason that made you two break up, he didn’t show it to you.

“He’s coming here,” he said instead, glancing at Oliver.

“Tom, this is insane,” you kept going. “You said you couldn’t forgive me after…”

It happened all too fast. All the lights went out at the same time. Tom's lips were on yours in an instant. Everything was on fire, every inch of your body. Every cell your flash was made of exploded like a dying supernova. A moment later, someone snatched him from your hands, leaving you in the cold.

Oliver hit him. Tom laughed, nervously, but then he grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt and slammed him against the wall, angrily. You pounced on Tom, trying to pull him away from Oliver. At first, Tom looked at you confused, thinking that you just wanted to keep Oliver safe from him, but your eyes told him another story: you prevented him to be kicked out from the campus.

“I told you, you’d know,” he said, while wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, pretending to be the tough guy he wasn’t.

“Guys, I think we should leave,” Jacob said, while Harrison was taking Tom away from Oliver by his arm.

“I thought we were friends, Tom,” Oliver said, an inch of hurting in his voice tone.

“That was before you came after the only thing I care about,” he said harshly. And then, he left with Harrison and Jacob.

That night, while Tom was cleaning himself of blood in the bathroom, Jacob was staring at him worried, while standing with one arm against the door jamb.

“You never told me what happened, you know, with Y/N last year. Haz doesn’t want to tell me, he thinks it’s up to you. You said that you were over her, but I don’t think you are, since what you did tonight,” he said. Tom kept wiping away the blood from his shirt, ignoring Jacob’s words. “Why have you broken up with her, Tom? It seems pretty obvious that you’re still in love with her”.

Tom gulped, while looking at himself in the mirror. He had tried to bury all of his memories deep down, but it seemed that now the demons wanted to come back and play with him once again. Maybe it had finally come the time to confront them.

When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse: “Because she cheated on me”.

Read chapter 2 here!

[multiplefandomfics]

Vacation

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Virgin!PlusSize!reader

Warnings: self consciousness, unprotected smut, authority kink, daddy kink, angst, fluff

Words:3295

You were sitting in a bar somewhere in Croatia. Frustrated about the turn of recent events.

The trip was supposed to be about you and your friends. Just enjoying the sun and ocean. No boys allowed! But then on the 2nd evening your friends had abandoned you at the bar to go clubbing with some boys from spain. Fan-fucking-tastic, you thought.

There went your nice all girls vacation. The way you knew your friends you weren't going to see them for a while.

Just as you were about to pay your tab and leave, someone sat down next to you and started talking. “Hi, sweetheart. You alone here?” he didn’t say much but you recognized that voice immediately. Your head snapped upwards and your eyes widened. Of all the people you would have never expected him there. Sebastian Stan. The man of your wet dreams.

You fumbled your phone out of your purse and unlocked the screen. Yep, he was definitely the man from your wallpaper.

“You okay there?” he asked, smiling before his eyes fell on your background picture.

“Oh, so you know me.” he figured.

“Ehm, yeah, yeah I do. Holy shit you’re even more beautiful in person.” you swooned.

He laughed heartily at that and ordered you and himself another drink.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you with your girlfriend on vacation? Sorry if I give off stalker vibes” you turned red faced.

“That’s a long story but to cut to the chase, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” his face turned slightly sour at the thought of his ex.

“Oh, I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. She seemed to make you happy.”

“Well, she did. But not anymore. So enough of her, what’s your name and what are you doing here?” He changed the topic.

“How rude of me, my name is Y/N and I was initially here to have a nice week with my girls. But now they've abandoned me in favor of some guys. So I decided to have a few drinks by myself and then go back to the house we rented.” you let all your frustration out.

“Wow, that sounds terrible. But the night doesn’t have to end like this. Would you like to dance?” he asked friendly.

“I can’t dance.” you objected.

“I’ll lead you, come on.” he paid for both of your drinks and then held out his hand for you to take. And how could you say no to that face?

“Alright. Let’s do this. And thanks for the drinks but you didn’t need to pay for me.” you told him.

“I know. You look like you could hold your own but I simply wanted to pay.” he grinned and you accepted his answer.

He pulled you onto the kinda crowded dance floor and guided your hands on his shoulders. Then he guided your clumsy body to the beat and soon it started to be real funny.

“Okay, that was fun but I need a break. And preferably some fresh air.” you yelled over the music out of breath.

He understood and took you outside in front of the bar and a bit away from the entrance where the smokers stood.

“See I told you if you ease into things and give me a chance I can make this a night you won’t forget.” he grinned, mischievously.

“A bit cheeky aren’t we?” you tried to play his game but his advances made you a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

The thing was, you didn’t decide on a men free vacation with your friends because you wanted to get a break from all the guys pursuing you at home but because your friends were constantly surrounded by guys and only talked about their experiences with the opposite sex and that reminded you of how inexperienced you were.

You had always been self conscious. Your girl friends were always tall and skinny or at least of normal weight and could wear all the trendiest clothes but you could not shop for nice wearables so easily. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when you went out with your friends and you had really given your look everything, still they were advanced by men and you weren’t. It was frustrating.

That brought you back to the situation at hand- why did Sebastian Stan, Hollywood hottie, decide to pick you out of all these beautiful girls at the bar? It was a riddle to you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly asked.

“Anything.” he smiled.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

The hurt in your eyes told him that you were genuinely interested in an honest answer.

“Because you seemed lonely and so am I. Also you are beautiful and now I know that you are kind and funny, too. You are perfect.” you couldn’t believe that.

“Are you serious? Me? Perfect? You have gotta be kidding me!” you scoffed.

“Why would I? In you I see something permanent. Something that could develop into more. What do you see?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t know. I just have never heard that I am beautiful from a man before.” you looked down, embarrassed.

“You can’t be serious! What kind of stupid idiots have you met in your life before?” he asked, astonished.

“The kind that wants a model type by their side. Just the kind of arm candy you should have by yours too. Not a chubby girl like me. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” you had to hold back tears at your confession and wanted to turn around to leave. But he grabbed your arm and forced you to look at him. “Hey, don’t go. I meant what I said. I am sorry that you have only been hurt by men so far but I promise I’m not like that. You can rely on me. I really want to get to know you. Let me take you home and we watch a movie or something? It’s only 10pm. No strings attached.” he offered.

That did sound like a dream and you decided quickly that you had nothing to lose if you said yes.

“Okay. The house is right up that hill and behind that little bit of forest.” you informed him.

He offered his arm, gentlemen like and you took it.

“So where are you from when you are on vacation here at the moment?” he asked to make smalltalk.

“I’m from Germany.”

“Impossible! I heard Germans speak English and they have a strong accent. You have barely an accent and I would have placed you closer to the states.” he was surprised.

“I hear that a lot actually. But I have never been to the US. I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows in English. And I read books in English too.” you smiled bashfully.

“That’s amazing. I think I have a stronger european accent than you do and I’ve lived in the US since I was 12.” he laughed.

“Well, English is my comfort language so I’m always happy when I can use it.” you said nonchalantly.

“Marvelous. You’re amazing.” he complimented.

“Oh, stop it.” you turned red.

“I’m only saying what's true.”

“You’re too kind.”

You walked uphill towards the small wood you had to cross, in the dark. Great idea!

He walked pretty fast and you had to almost jog to keep up with him which made you sweat and got you terribly out of breath.

When the trees around you got thicker and it got even darker it happened. You stepped on a rock, it rolled to the side and you twisted your ankle.

“Shit! Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.

“What happened?” he asked scared.

“Twisted my ankle. It’s just too fucking dark.” you were angry at yourself for being so stupid.

“Damn. Can you step on your foot?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But what other options do we have? I gotta try.”

You stepped from your left foot onto your right and it buckled beneath you under the pain. “Fuck!”

“Okay that won’t work.” he stated and the next second he just picked you up bridal style and started to carry you on.

“Are you crazy? Let me down. I’m definitely too heavy to carry.” you ordered him.

“No, you are not. And when you try to hobble home we won’t make it until sunrise. So now shut up and let me carry you.” he silenced you efficiently.

“But take a break if you need to, and you will need one eventually.” you mumbled.

The rest of the way you held onto him and buried your face in his neck. Damn, did he smell good. It almost made you moan.

When you arrived at the door he didn’t let you down as you would have expected him to, no, he grabbed the keys from your hands, opened the door and carried you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

“Thank you Sebastian. You are so kind. What can I ever do to repay you?” you asked him.

“Hmm, maybe let me kiss you?” he suggested and you had to swallow nervously. He immediately picked up on your hesitation “Only if you want to of course.”

“Sure I want to, but… I have never kissed anyone before.” you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

“Then let me change that, please.” he begged. You saw no resentment or reproach in his beautifully blue eyes.

Of course you caved and nodded your consent.

He leaned closer to your crouched form on the couch, put his hand on your thigh and brushed his lips to yours.

The kiss was sweet and careful not to startle you or demand something from you that you could feel uncomfortable with.

“So how was your first kiss?” he asked and smiled.

“Very nice.” you looked blissed out at him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I would really love to do that again.”

“Please do.” you confirmed.

Oh and he did. The kiss was magical. This time he pushed his tongue sensually into your mouth and you were stunned how good that felt.

“You okay?” he wanted to know afterwards.

“More than okay. I’m happy you picked me at the bar. Usually they say “never meet your heroes” but with you that’s different.”

“Thanks,doll. That means a lot to me.” he leaned in and kissed your neck.

At the mention of that particular nickname your posture stiffened. He noticed.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“Ehm, well … you know I haven’t only had a crush on you but also on Bucky… maybe.” you whispered.

At first he seemed confused as to where this confession suddenly came from but then it clicked.

“It’s the nickname. I called you doll.” he laughed. “I didn’t even register that I got that from him. But if it turns you on I will keep using it.” that grin could win you over any day.

“I could get used to it actually. I never would have imagined someone calling me that. But you make it sound so hot. Thanks for making me feel good.”

“Anytime, doll.” he kissed you again.

“By the way, didn’t we wanna watch a movie?” you suddenly asked.

“Yes, of course. Do they have Netflix or something on here?” did he wanna know.

“Disney+. And with it all the Marvel Movies.” you winked at him.

“Anything you want, doll.” he kept using that nickname over and over but you loved it.

“Which one have you not seen yet?”

“I think I’ve actually seen them all. Which one is your favorite?”

“I love the ones you’re in the most.” you confessed.

“Okay, close your eyes and I’ll pick your favorite one.” he suggested.

“Alright. Let’s give it a try.” you agreed.

When you were allowed to open your eyes again you saw the opening credits of a Marvel movie flashing. You recognized the first scene: The Washington Monument and a very exhausted looking Sam Wilson and you heard “on your left” which made you smile. He knew then that he had picked the right movie.

“Good choice.” you praised him.

Then you cuddled up to him and he put his arm around you.

Although you were pretty tired after about half the movie you could not skip over one second of that glorious movie.

“You know- the Winter Soldier is kinda hot. So determined and dominant.” You slurred when you saw him walk down that car after he jumped from the bridge.

“You think so? You like to be dominated? Controlled? Called names? Maybe tied up and used?” he growled into your ear.

“Fuck.” you whimpered and clenched your thighs.

“You like the thought of that don’t you?” he bit into your earlobe.

You nodded furiously.

“Use your words babygirl.”

“Yes, sir.” you said.

“So, an authority kink is there too. And here I thought you were so innocent.” he pushed.

“How can you be innocent when you read fanfiction almost every day?” you quipped.

“Fanfiction, huh? Can you show me examples so I can paint myself a picture?” he asked.

You took your phone out and opened Tumblr. Then you searched for your favorite Bucky fanfic with all the kinks you enjoyed and handed the phone to him.

He read with interest and you studied his facial expressions, smirking when you saw reactions to certain parts you had expected to come.

“So that’s the kind of naughty literature you enjoy alone in your bed, touching yourself maybe.” he growled.

“Yes, sir. The imagination of what you could do to me makes me so wet.” you bit your lip seductively.

Suddenly you were in a flow. All the insecurities about your body and weight were gone. Only him and your sexual fantasies existed in the moment.

“Fuck baby.” he moaned and grabbed your hand to push it onto his growing bulge. “Feel what you do to me, doll?”

“So hot.” you moaned back and felt the urge to take charge. So you got onto your knees and sat in his lap grinding down on him.

Before anything could go further he stopped you and whispered “if at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable or I’m doing something you are not ready for or don’t like, tell me and we will stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sebastian. I understand. Thanks.”

And so it continued. Grinding and kissing. Until he suddenly stood up abruptly holding you close. “I’m not taking your virginity on this couch. Where is your bedroom?”

He was so considerate “upstairs and then the last door on the right.”

He carried you to the room, carefully laying you down on the bed so as to not disturb your injured foot.

When he unbuttoned the button down he was wearing and took it off you were already drooling.

“Let me undress you, darling. Turn around so I can unzip your dress. Which is beautiful by the way.” he suggested and winked.

You did as he told you and soon felt your dress falling off your shoulders. He helped you pull it over your head and left you in your bra, chub rub shorts and panties.

A little embarrassed at the shorts you looked to the side. But you couldn’t go out in a dress without wearing any type of pants underneath.

“You are so sexy, baby.” he did everything to make you feel comfortable and you started to believe him.

“May I?” he motioned for your bra and you nodded your consent.

Next he took off his jeans and the realization of what was to come started to seep into your mind.

“You still okay with this?” he made sure.

“Yes. I want this Sebastian. I really do. I trust you” you assured him.

So he proceeded with the rest of your clothes and lastly his boxer shorts.

The whole time he kept kissing you hungrily. When he crawled on top of you and you had that skin on skin contact you had never felt so safe with anyone before.

“I gotta prep you before we go all the way, alright? Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” he whispered between kisses.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

“Please.” you begged.

That’s when he scooted down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. The next thing you felt was him placing a kiss on your mound, and then his tongue poking out starting to flick your clit. He pushed your legs further apart to gain better access.

“Fuck, feels so good.” you moaned just when he inserted one finger into your tight pussy. “Oh, my gosh. Don’t stop.” you begged him.

“I won’t” he mumbled and kept attacking your clit.

“‘m so close.”

“Come for me baby. Come now.” That command was the last straw which brought you to orgasm.

Breathlessly you smiled down at him and he smiled right back at you.

“You up for more?” he needed the confirmation that you were alright.

“Yes, sir. Now I don’t know why I have never done this before. I don’t ever want you to stop again.” At that statement he laughed heartily.

“Then let’s start, shall we?” he kept kissing over your belly, up to your breasts, licked your nipples and sucked hickies onto your neck.

“Ready?”

“Can you just fuck me already?” you asked annoyed.

“Someones being needy.” he joked and finally penetrated your pussy.

“Oh, fuck. So big. Hmmm. deep. Shit.” you were already reduced to a mumbling mess.

“Such a tight fit. You feel amazing.” he buried his head into your neck.

And then he started to move. Slowly at first but picked up speed rapidly. He hit spots inside you that your favorite vibrator was never able to get.

End then something you never wanted anyone to hear slipped your mouth “Fuck, daddy. Harderr!” and suddenly he stopped completely and you mewled disappointed until you realized what you had said. You opened your eyes to see his reaction.

You expected him to be disgusted but all you could see was a hunger. He looked like a predator who finally caught his prey.

“Say that again!” he growled. That statement of his made a surge of pride and confidence rush through you.

You bit your lip mischievously and said “Please, daddy. Fuck me harder.” and he immediately snapped.

He pistoned his hips forward, hitting your cervix over and over until you were so desperately close.

“You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing me, doll. Alright I’m gonna count down and I want you to come with me. Understood”

“Yes, daddy please… need to come… so bad.”

“Five..” deep thrust. “Four…” nip to the collarbone. “Three…” you clawed at his back. “Two…” you tried your hardest not to come and closed your eyes. “Look at me babygirl..” so you opened your eyes. “One… Come” and the dam broke. You had never come so hard in your life. No toy could ever make you feel the way this man did. Your quivering cunt made him come so hard. When he rolled off you he was breathing just as heavy as you were. The only noise you heard was your rapid heartbeat and blood rushing in your ears.

“That was amazing. We definitely need to do that again” you said.

“Oh yes. Anytime.”

The next week flew by so quickly and you two spent most of it in bed. You decided that your lives needed to be lived together so the next chance you got you would be moving in with him. Sometimes dreams do come true!

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 5 | You practically whipped it out and peed on her.

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly and Tom face their first big industry event, a Marvel party.  Tom finds himself unprepared for how he feels about Molly.  Particularly how he feels about Molly being friendly with a certain Captain. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

-

Molly made a quick recovery and things went back to the usual routine. For her. Tom found himself wearing his better workout clothes. The ones without the holes. And wearing cologne and shaving.

“Did you shave?” Molly asked one morning, running her hand over his chin.

“Yes.” 

“Shame, I kind of liked how you looked with the stubble.”

Tom’s smile faded, and he started shaving only once or twice a week from then on. 

-

“I need you to go shopping.” Tom mentioned one day on his way out. 

Molly didn’t glance up from her reading. “Just make a list and I’ll go to the grocery store today.”

“No.” Tom fidgeted. “There’s an event. A party.” He cleared his throat. “For Marvel.” Tom tugged at his hair.

Molly’s eyes bugged out. “This isn’t just some party, is it?”

“No. It’s a big deal. All the stars will be there. Kevin Feige and some other execs. Think you handle it?”

Molly smirked. “Piece of cake, I have been charming VIPs for years. What kind of look do you want? Sweet wife or damn that’s his wife?”

Tom pulled her close. “Somewhere in between. Have Emma help you. I have no idea where to buy women’s clothes.”

“Will do.” Molly kissed his cheek. “Have a good day.” She pressed her hand on his chest.

“You too.” He returned the kiss on the cheek and stepped out of the door. 

Molly grabbed her phone and dialed Emma.

“So where does someone go to get a cocktail dress in this town?”

-

Molly caught Tom digging in her wardrobe the morning before the event. 

“What are you doing in there?” Molly called out from the doorway. 

Tom jumped and hit his head on the door. “I… I… was… just looking to see… if…” he sputtered, searching for a story.

“If you could see my dress before tonight.” She waved a hand, gesturing Tom out of the room. “Out.”

“But I need to make sure we coordinate.” Tom whined. His fingers lingered on a garment bag.

“That’s my wedding dress.” she sighed. “If I give you a color, will you yield?”

“On my honor as a gentleman.” Tom smiled.

“Black. Now leave. Your sister is coming over in a few hours to do my hair.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “How long does hair take?”

She patted his cheek. “Oh you sweet summer child.”

-

Tom did the best to ignore the giggles coming from Molly’s bathroom. He fiddled with his jacket and shirt sleeves. He selected a black tweed-like suit with a grey shirt and tie. They should coordinate, he thought. For photos. 

A loud burst of laughter came from the bathroom. Tom strolled over and knocked on the door. Emma popped her head out.

“She’s not ready yet.” 

“We need to leave in fifteen minutes.” Tom countered.

“Give me ten.” Emma shooed him away. “Now go away.”

Tom shoved his hands in pockets. “It’s my house, you know.” he muttered.

“Our house!” Molly piped up from behind the door.

Emma turned to her. “Don’t engage. It only encourages him to stick around.” Emma’s head snapped back to Tom. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m going! Ten minutes, Em!” 

 Tom paced the living room floor. Twelve minutes later, Emma stepped in and cleared her throat.

“I present your stunning wife.” 

Molly stepped into the room and Tom’s breath caught in his throat. This was unlike how he had ever seen her before. Her tiered ruffled black dress hit right above the knee. Cut low in the front and back, it was sexy but not scandalous. Her hair pulled back into a low chignon. 

“Yeah…” Tom breathed, staring at Molly, who fidgeted in place.

“Thanks.” She caught the time. “Shit! Tom, we need to get going. Thanks so much, Em.”

Emma hugged Molly. “My pleasure. Next time we use the big bathroom. Or maybe my brother will renovate that bathroom to a his and hers.”

“Huh?” Tom frowned, glancing at Emma.

Emma giggled. “That’s my cue to leave.” She hugged Tom. “She really is your match, Tom.” Emma whispered in his ear.

Molly waited until the door shut before reaching over, playfully smacking Tom’s chest. 

“Brilliant acting job there! You had me going for a moment there.” 

Tom chuckled. “Right. Right. Let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

-

Molly wasn’t lying when she said the party would be a piece of cake. She charmed everyone she spoke to. Tom most of all. He beamed, watching her from across the room. 

“You are positively glowing, Thomas.” Benedict sidled up next to him. “I guess that means the rumours are true.” Ben sipped his drink.

“Hmmm?” Tom turned to his friend, lost in thought. 

“Earth to Tom.” Ben mocked. 

Tom frowned at him. “I’m sorry, something distracted me. What was the question?” 

“Would that something be that young lady charming Mark Ruffalo, who is sporting a pretty diamond on an important finger?”

“And they said you shouldn’t play Sherlock.” Tom mocked. “That young lady happens to be Molly.”

“And what would be Molly’s last name?”

“Hiddleston.” Tom muttered.

“Is this a mysterious third sister?”

Tom threw Benedict a derisive glare. “Why don’t you just come out and ask the question, Benedict? It’s not a sister, that’s my wife. I got married. There, happy?” Tom huffed, downing half his cocktail. 

“Yes. But more importantly, are you happy?” 

Tom glanced over at Molly, laughing at something Mark said. “I am. I really am.” 

“Then, congratulations.” Ben clinked his glass with Tom’s.

-

Molly sidled up to the bar to catch a breath. 

“Cranberry and soda with a twist of lime.” she ordered, leaning against the bar. 

“Finally a moment alone with the belle of the ball.” A deep voice said next to Molly.

She turned to face none other than Chris Evans. He sipped on a bottle of beer, wearing a black on black suit with a brown tie. It shouldn’t work, but it did. 

“Captain America, himself.” She smiled and extended a hand. Chris shook it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Most people just call me Chris. And you, what do people call you?” He flashed a smile which she returned.

“Molly.”

Chris took another swig of beer. Molly licked her lips, watching. “So what do you do, Molly, besides charming the pants off of everyone in the room?”

- 

Tom’s head snapped around at Molly’s laugh from across the room. 

“Excuse me for a moment, Ben. I think Molly needs me.”

Benedict’s furrowed at how Tom could know that. Then he spied where Tom was beelining. The bar where Molly and Chris Evans stood in quite the animated conversation. He snaked his way through the crowd to get a better view.

-

Molly giggled. “That is too funny, Chris. Is it true that…” she sensed someone behind her. It was Tom. “Tom!”

“Oh you met Molly.” Chris offered.

Molly snorted. Tom’s hand wrapped around her waist, squeezing tight. Her stomach fluttered at Tom’s touch. 

“I have.” Tom snapped back. “She’s my wife.”

“Oh shit!” Chris held up his hands. “I’m so sorry man. I had no idea. Congratulations. That’s quite a girl you got there.” 

Molly smiled and relaxed against Tom. He kept his death grip on her waist, but he did smile at Chris.

“Darling, Benedict is dying to meet you. Can I steal you away?” 

Molly twisted to gaze up at Tom, cupping his cheek. “Of course, love.” She reached out to touch Chris’s arm, not noticing Tom’s smile faltering. “Steal away.”

Tom leaned down and kissed her lips before leading her away. 

-

After a quick chat with Benedict, Molly excused herself to the bathroom. Ben leaned into Tom.

“What the hell was that?” Ben hissed.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Tom tugged on his jacket.

“I mean that little territory marking over there with Evans.” Ben commented. “You practically whipped it out and peed on her.” 

“Don’t be crude. I was just… making sure Molly met you.” Tom lied. 

“Bullshit. You were jealous. Why? She married you.”

Tom sipped his drink. “It’s complicated.” 

“Then explain it to me.”

“Not here.” Tom hissed. 

“Then lunch, tomorrow.” Benedict offered. “Just you and me and the truth.”

Tom paled. Molly came back and wrapped her arm around him.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing. Other than me missing you.”

“Aww.” Molly leaned her head against Tom’s chest. “I’m going to the bar. Do you gentlemen want anything?”

Tom perked up. “I’ll come with you.” 

Ben mumbled into his glass, emptying it. “Just whipping it out.” Tom shot him daggers.

“What was that?” Molly questioned.

“I am just heading out.” Ben said, covering. “Sophie will be expecting me.”

Molly leaned over and kissed Ben’s cheek. “I can’t wait to meet her. She sounds delightful.”

“She is.” Ben nodded. “Tom.” He extended his hand, and the two gave a quick hug.

“Benedict.” Tom responded tensely. 

Tom stuck to Molly’s side for the rest of the event. She appreciated the attention but was a little sad she didn’t get to finish up her conversation at Chris. She could swear Tom was keeping her from Chris. Molly shrugged off the feeling. 

She chattered on the ride home. 

“That was a lot fun, Tom. Everyone was nice.”

“They were.” Tom responded, gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Mark, Ben, Chris, and Robert.” 

Tom bristled at Chris’s name. He plastered on a smile. “But I’m the one going home with you.”

She placed her hand on top of his and ran her thumb over his knuckles. Each swipe sent electricity through Tom. 

“I hope I was convincing. You don’t think anyone suspects?” 

“What?” Tom glanced over at her. His voice grew more tense.

“About us. The whole fake marriage.” 

“Oh. No, darling, you were perfect.” 

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. The first true thing he had said for most of the night. Molly wasn’t just lovely. She was perfect. Damning and infuriatingly perfect. And he was in love with her. And she wasn’t in love with him.

Tom feigned being exhausted once they got home. 

“I’m off to bed.”

“Me too.” Molly pulled off her black pumps. Tom headed towards his room. “Wait. I forgot! Will you get my zipper? Emma had to do me up.” She spun around.

Tom gulped. “Sure.” His fingers shook as he tugged the zipper down. His fingertips grazing across Molly’s back. Her skin soft and warm.

“Th.. thanks.” Molly stuttered.

“You’re welcome.”

She held the dress up by crossing her arms in front of her. She kissed Tom’s lips. “Night, Tom.”

He kissed her back, not how he wanted to. He wanted to rip that dress off of her and push her against the wall and kiss her until she lost her breath and then kiss her some more. Just for good measure. 

He leaned back. “Good night, Molly.” His voice low and soft as if he didn’t trust to speak too loud. As if he would spook her and ruin everything.

Molly’s head dropped, and she headed to her room, door clicking shut.

“Shit!” Tom yanked his tie off. “Real fucking smooth Hiddleston.”

-

Tom begged off their run that morning, claiming he was too tired from last night. In fact, he didn’t get up until he had to leave to meet Benedict for lunch. 

Molly sat up when Tom came into the living room.

“Are you feeling okay?” She beckoned him over and she pressed her hand to his forehead. “No fever.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” He kissed her cheek. “I appreciate your concern, though. I’m off to meet Ben. Think you’ll be okay for a few hours without me?” 

“I think I can manage.” Molly mock pouted. “But hurry home.”

“Yes, darling.” Tom smiled and gave her a quick peck before walking out the door.

-

Ben was already seated when Tom arrived at the pub. 

“Look like shit, Tom.” Ben commented.

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” Tom grabbed a menu and ordered a coffee and water. 

“The wife keep you up?” Ben sipped his beverage.

“Not exactly.”

“Yeah, what is that all about? And why would you be jealous of Evans?”

Tom groaned. “Can I at least get my coffee?”

“Nope.” Ben grinned a wide grin.

Tom sighed. “Okay so here is what happened…”

Benedict sat there silently while Tom relayed the whole sordid tale. He left nothing out, not even Clive. 

Tom gazed up at his friend. “Say something, Ben. The silence is deafening.”

Benedict pressed his fingers to his lips. “And Luke doesn’t know?”

“No.”

“And not your mother?”

“No. Just you.” Tom huffed. “And Molly.”

“Obviously. Seems rather simple.”

“Simple?! How is anything simple?! I am in love with her, Ben.” Tom stabbed at his food. “She’s all I think about.”

“See, simple. Tell her how you feel.” Ben smiled. “The two of you are already married. Seems like you skipped all the hard stuff.” 

“And when she rejects me? Not so simple. I can’t lose her.”

Ben stared at his friend. “You really are blind, aren’t you? I saw how she looked at you last night. There is something there, and it is not you paying off her student loans. Molly genuinely cares for you.”

Tom’s brows raised. “You think so.”

“I know so. Now let’s come up with a plan for you to woo your wife.”

Tom grinned. 

-

Molly settled back onto the couch, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Tom?” she called out while moving to answer the door. “Did you forget your key—” She stopped short upon seeing who it was. “Oh, Chris.”

Evans stood there wearing a plain tee that clung to his classic A-frame torso. Molly stared for a bit. 

“Hi!” He smirked at her.

“Um, Tom left to have lunch with Ben.”

“Actually, I am here to invite you out to lunch. We never got to finish our conversation.” 

“Let me grab my coat.” 

Chris grinned as Molly grabbed her purse and coat before locking up. He slung an arm over her shoulder. “Now where is a good place to eat around here?”

[mrsalwayswrite]

Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.  

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!! 

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

 (picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win. 

 It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat. 

 At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home. 

 Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again. 

 It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life. 

 Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead. 

 You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen. 

 "I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage. 

 Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted. 

 Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing. 

 Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale. 

 Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others. 

 A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better. 

 This time was no different. 

 Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.  

 Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

 "Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

 "Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom. 

 "Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored. 

 As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement. 

 Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart. 

 Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles. 

 At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

 Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom. 

 "What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

 Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving. 

 "We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 "Concerned?" You asked incredulously. 

 Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

 "What are you talking about?"

 "Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

 Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

 "Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye. 

 "Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?" 

 "Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink. 

 "Ivar…."

 He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

 "Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears. 

 He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

 "Ok."

 Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

 Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell. 

 When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be. 

 With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor. 

 Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before. 

 "Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face. 

 "Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot. 

 "No, you're sitting here now."

 "Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them. 

 Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

 "I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes. 

 "We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle. 

 "So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes. 

 "Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram. 

 Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

 You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

 He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement. 

 Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know. 

 "Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was. 

 "What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.  

 You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

 "What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

 Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again. 

 Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us." 

 You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat. 

 Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face. 

 "Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine. 

 "It's not…. it’s nothing."

 "Bullshit." Ivar spat. 

 Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

 Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon. 

 "Was it your mother?"

 Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that. 

 Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

 "She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

 You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own. 

 Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

 At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

 Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

 "I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips. 

 "I second that!" 

 "Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother. 

 Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

 "No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

 "It's not stealing if she wants to go!" 

 Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

 "No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

 "Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

 "Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair. 

 You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened. 

 For a moment there was dead silence then….

 "I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word. 

 "Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered. 

 You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers. 

 "It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

 "No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look. 

 "I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

 "I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

 "You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

 "Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers. 

 Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

 After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap. 

 As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are. 

 Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted. 

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 5 of 27: You

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 4

A/N: A chapter from a different perspective! I hope you all like it <3 And thank you so much for your support!! I love you all so muuuuuch!!!

Words: 2300 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: none

Draco Malfoy wasn’t easy to impress. Being bored quickly by other people was one reason why he never had many close friends – and yes, he knew how utterly arrogant that sounded. It was the truth however. He was friendly with most of the Slytherins but his mother always taught him “Quality over quantity” and he agreed. Draco went so far as to apply that mindset to his love life as well. Yes, before the sixth year of school, he used to like to flirt and he had dated the occasional Slytherin girl. He was also very aware of the fact that there had been quite a few girls with crushes on him. In some cases, he even reciprocated them, however, those feelings faded quickly.

So you couldn’t imagine how much it bothered Malfoy that he wasn’t able to stop thinking of you. Not even in his dreams did you leave him alone and so he kept on going back to that evening on the Quidditch field. Until today, it was entirely unclear to him why he told you all those things. He didn’t know anything about you yet speaking to you left him feeling … good, almost. After a year of trials and coming home to find his family and life in shambles, there was no one left to talk to. No one he wanted to talk to. To whom was he going to turn? His friends which were all coming from the same pureblood Death Eater families? Yes, of course, they understood – and also they didn’t. Not quite. Did you understand him? Probably not, he guessed. After all, you were a Gryffindor and fought on the right side of the war. The winning side. But talking to you felt different, almost easy. You grew up in another world than him and maybe that was the key to it all.

Obviously, Draco didn’t plan on repeating that evening. You were friends with the whole Potter and Weasley bunch. It made it even harder to trust you – how could he be sure you hadn’t already told your Gryffindor friends and were laughing about him behind his back? It was possible. A part of him didn’t want to believe this possibility and another part reminded him of all the times he was disappointed and got hurt by the people around him. It was probably for the best to stay away from you.

Yet he didn’t stop thinking of you. He saw you looking at him in the Great Hall during meals, watched you from walk away when you passed him in hallways and the library. Without noticing it, he always chose a place behind you in class. Draco didn’t understand the urge to be close to you. It was utterly ridiculous for Merlin’s sake. You were a Gryffindor; one of the good ones. He wasn’t. Not at all.

Maybe it was because of the kiss, he wondered at some point. Maybe you hexed him in this moment. Draco knew this theory was very far-fetched but it was the only logical explanation fin his mind. Why else would he keep thinking back to that moment in the storage room? He didn’t deny that you were witty and smart and very beautiful – he wasn’t blind after all – but so were lots of girls. What the hell was so special about you that you wouldn’t leave his thoughts?! It couldn’t be your taste in men as you obviously didn’t have any. At least there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for him for why someone like you would get with someone like the Weasel.

“Draco,” Blaise’s voice pulled him out of this thoughts. “You coming?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, just a second.”

He got up from the table in their shared dorm, putting his notebook in the drawer of his nightstand. Two months since school started and he had almost filled in all of its pages. Draco started writing during the first trial of his parents last year. It kept him focused and helped him put his thoughts in order. It soon became a daily ritual which helped him stay grounded. Draco carried it around in his bag during the day, using it in between classes and meals. His friends caught him doing it a lot and he was sure they had already guessed what it was. He was glad when they didn’t say anything because in the end, Draco would have rather died before admitting that he was using a diary.

“You’re not wearing a costume!”, Astoria exclaimed when he joined the others in the common room. Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and the Greengrass sisters were already waiting for him.

There was a Halloween party happening in the Room of Requirements tonight and his friends had convinced him to go even though it meant more awkward conversations with Astoria.

“I thought we’re not doing muggle traditions. What are you supposed to be?”, he asked instead, taking in her revealing outfit.

She giggled. “I’m a healer. Or ‘nurse’ as the muggles call it.”

“Ah,” Draco made, thinking that she didn’t look like a healer at all. “I thought Halloween was supposed to be scary?”

Astoria rolled her eyes, before linking their arms with each other. “You’re no fun. Don’t you think I look pretty?”

“Astoria, you can wear a potato sack and still look absolutely stunning.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her and they started making their way towards the exit of the common room. Draco glanced at her from the side. She was, objectively speaking, the perfect match for a Malfoy. Coming from a well-respected and wealthy pureblood family combined with her intelligence and beauty, she was everything his parents could have wanted for him. Especially now.

You had told him what to do. It was such a simple solution to all of his impending problems. However, it had been the moment where Draco had realized that you grew up differently. Not a day went by where he didn’t receive a heartbreaking letter from his mother. He knew, she just wanted the best for him and she didn’t want to manipulate him; she was simply desperate. Desperate for the live they used to have – a husband at home, a son with a promising future, money and a respected place in society.

Draco had asked himself countless times what the marriage would truly mean. His family would have another chance. Together with Astorias family, his future was secured. A good job, maybe even in the ministry if he was lucky. Enough money to take care of his mother. Who knew, maybe his father would be out of Azkaban sooner? Draco marrying Astoria would lessen his families suffering, that was for sure. But did he want that? Did he want a simple and easy solution to make their past crimes … disappear? His family was far from innocent. They had committed horrible crimes in the name of the Dark Lord – and a part of him knew, they deserved everything they got in the end. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they sent his mother and him to Azkaban as well.

When thinking about the engagement, another thought popped into his head. Could he learn to love Astoria? Would he be happy with her? Maybe. Maybe not. Draco knew only one thing for sure – there was a reason why he kept resisting to the whole idea. Giving in felt like sacrificing another part of himself to something his family had burdened him with.

“And Astoria, I disagree,” Blaise once again disrupted his train of thought by joining in from the right. “Draco can quickly make his costume appear. Just roll up your sleeves, Dray, and the Gryffindors will shit their pants on the spot.”

The rest of the group snickered but Draco didn’t react. Instead he suppressed the urge to touch the mark on his left arm and shoved his hand deeper into the pocket of his pants.

 ***

The Room of Requirement was absolutely crowded.

The Slytherins were surprised by how many people had actually appeared. Almost everyone from the sixth and seventh grade was here, wearing mostly ridiculous costumes. Music roared from invisible speakers, students were dancing and talking loudly.

“I’m surprised that the teachers didn’t already break this up,” Blaise almost had to shout. “Or Filch.”

Draco shrugged. “I feel like they stopped caring this year.”

“Maybe they feel responsible for all those deaths,” Theo suggested.

“So to make up for all the trauma, they allow us to party?”, Blaise concluded with an amused undertone.

“It’s good for us though so stop talking and start drinking,” Pansy chirped and grabbed Draco and Theo by their arms, pulling them towards the table with a few questionable bottles.

When his friends started chatting about the usual Hogwarts gossip, Draco’s eyes started to wander. He was searching the crowd for someone. You. Were you here? Did you even like parties? Draco had no idea. You always looked quite social from what he witnessed.

And there you were – standing in a group of people, listening to Granger who was gesticulating wildly. You were holding a drink and laughing at whatever the other girl told you. Draco noticed from across the room how your eyes were gleaming, your face red from the alcohol. You looked so careless. He swallowed hard at the sight.

“He’s either staring at Weasley, the mudblood or Y/L/N,” Zabini said to the others in that moment. “Don’t know what’s worse.”

Draco needed a second to understand his friends were talking about him. “What did you just say?” He turned to them.

Zabini grinned widely at him. “I said, you’re staring at the Gryffindors again, Draco. It’s fucking weird. What’s your sudden obsession with them?”

Draco quickly glanced at the rest of his friends. Daphne, Theodore and Pansy watched the two of you with a smirk on their lips, maybe even suppressing a giggle. Astoria looked at Draco with a worried expression.

“No, what did you just say?”, Draco repeated his question, straightening up slightly. “What did you call Granger?”

Blaise snorted. “What?”

Draco just stared at him.

“I called her a mudblood,” Blaise gave a half shrug.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Blaise,” Draco spat out.

“Come on, Dray,” Theodore tried to intervene. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is!” He looked at him, visibly disgusted.

“What’s your problem, Draco?”, Blaise raised an eyebrow, shifting from one leg to another. “You called her a mudblood for years and now you suddenly have a problem with it? You’re acting so weird this year, seriously.”

Before Draco was able to reply, Astoria carefully placed her hand on his arm. It took all the strength he had, not to immediately shake her off. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get you a new drink and calm down.” She pulled him a few steps away from the group.

Draco gritted his teeth, remembering what he had thought about not being able to talk to his old friends. They understood – and also they didn’t.

“Are you okay, Draco?” Astoria asked, still looking slightly alarmed.

Draco looked at her. Did she want to hear an honest answer? “Sure,” he finally said.

She didn’t buy it. “You’ve been acting strange for a while now.”

“I’m really not.”

“Draco,” she reached for his hand. “I know you.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Can we … can we not talk about this now? Here? With all these people around us?”

“There’s always a reason not to talk so we might as well do it here,” she pressed on.

Draco could think of a thousand different things he’d rather do than talk to her right now. “I’m … I’m not acting strange. It’s just a lot. With my parents and all that.”

Her smile changed from worried to pity. “I understand.” Did she? “That’s why I think we should move on.”

What kind of weird reaction was this? “Move on?”, Draco frowned.

“With our engagement.”

“Right.”

Astoria squeezed his hand. “I don’t see why we can’t just make it official.”

Draco looked at her fingers as if he was searching for a ring that he had forgotten existed. “Because the whole thing isn’t official yet,” he slowly said.

The brunette let go of his hand. “It’s going to happen anyways. My parents won’t stop talking about it and I bet it’s no different for your mother.”

Draco just wanted to get out of this situation. He got dragged here and now it was just one big argument. Why couldn’t they have stuck to gossiping and partying? “Why during school though?”

He saw how Astoria stared at the ground for a moment. When she started speaking again, her voice had become a little colder. “You know, there are a lot of men who would jump at this opportunity. My family is well respected and yours is …”

Draco let out a short whistle. “Thanks, Astoria,”

Astoria was visibly uncomfortable and Draco wondered if she regretted what she had just said. “That’s not how I meant it and you know that, Dray. I just don’t understand why this takes you so long.”

Draco put his hands on hips, pushing his jacket back. “Excuse me if I’m wrong,” he started, “But I’m not exactly your first choice either, am I?”

The girl didn’t answer right away. When she did though, Draco wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what my parents want. Pureblood marriages will happen less and less in the future so we will be a good union.”

“Right,” Draco mumbled with a sad smile. It’s all about the family.

Astoria cleared her throat. “Well, are there any reasons why we shouldn’t move on?”

“Yes, there are.”

This didn’t come from Draco or Astoria. Irritated by the sudden interruption, he turned around to see who had so rudely eavesdropped on the conversation.

You.

***

A/N: Even though I wrote this, I really felt for Draco in this chapter. His life (like so many other characters lives in HP) is so f****** up. Sorry but I can’t find a better word for it. Poor Draco. Anyways - I hope you liked it!! I’d love to hear what you think <3 I love reading your comments *-* (if you don’t comment or do anything, it’s fine, don’t worry, I just love to read your thoughts <3)

CHAPTER 6

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist

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[peachbearies]

Pussy Fairy. E.Jaeger

𑁍┊synopsis: something about y/n with pink glittery eyeshadow made him go feral, now all he wants to do all day is lay in between her thighs.

𑁍┊Genre(s): Smut

𑁍┊Pairing: aged up(21)!Eren X F! Reader

𑁍┊Warning(s): Face Sitting, Overstimulation, praise kink, fingering, body worship, hair pulling, squirting, minimal spanking, dom! eren modern au eren.

𑁍┊Proofread: Yes / No. (to my best abilities)

Eren asked y/n to hang out with his friends, just an infrequent hangout he reckoned, he didn’t think something so modest would make him so fragile in his knees. Y/n was sitting at her vanity feeling empirical she grabbed her favorite eyeshadow palette along with her pressed glitter, getting an inspo from a fairy core post on her timeline she concluded to imitate this look. A delicate pink glittery eyeshadow look paired with soft peachy blush from cheek to cheek, soft orange highlight on her nose, and cheekbones. Eren was trying to contain himself when she got in his car smelling like sunflowers and clementines, so simple but effective.

Eren was at an expense for utterances. Y/n chuckles before pecking his lips “what happened love?” eren positions his hands firmly around her inner thigh “you” is his straightforward alibi “me? Did I do something wrong? Is my outfit not okay?” y/n started to become subconscious, but that's not what eren denoted, quite the contrary actually “no, you look intangible darling you eternally do, just this reliance of you trying new things has my heart scampering like when we first kissed” saying no more he puts the car in drive to meet Armin and the rest of his friends at an arcade.

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Once they made it to the arcade, Armin told them to just walk in they've paid for their cards with fully loaded chips on them, eren holding her hand tightly kissed her knuckles as they walk to find his friends. Y/n was only close to two of his friends and those are the ones he mainly hangs with. Armin and Mikasa. In the beginning, she thought Mikasa hated the idea of her hanging with eren, but come to the realization she was just overprotective of his wellbeing. Sliding in the booth eren throw his arm around her snuggling her close to him.

Whenever they would hang out with a group of his friends he knew how anxious she would get and always kept a hand on her to remind her he's there and that nothing will hurt her. “You guys came later! Was eren taking too long to get dressed?” jean poked fun at him.

Their relationship was always fun to watch. It was either they cursed and quite literally fought each other, or they were giving tough advice and playing like competitive brothers. Eren scrunched his eyebrows giving jean a cut-throat stare to which jean chuckled “quite the opposite” y/n answered “I was doing my makeup” Jean looked back at her giving off a genuine smile “it looks good, you look like a fairy” smiling y/n informs him that's the look she was going for eren removed his arm from her shoulder to go get a drink.

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The emotion in his head was making him dizzy he felt jealous, lust, love everything all at once like a booster shot. His mind was shortly interrupted by a hug around his waist, the aroma clouded his mind yet again. “Hey darling” he expressed, using his two fingers to remove the hair from her lipgloss. “Hi! Baby” she smiled eren was caressing her face so delicately as if she was a glass vase. She was perfect in his eyes compared to the shit he's done in the past, she's innocent like a bunny.

But she's changed him for the better, grabbing her hand he twirls her around seeing her skirt follow in sync with her body the combat boots she wore with the lace socks popping out the blue glitter-laced tank top she was stunning today. Eren dipped his head into her neck leaving soft wet kisses onto her now burning skin, her fingers petting through his long chocolate locks. “I love you” eren repeats on his skin “I love you too” his emerald eyes sparkling under the led lights of the arcade. Eren forgot about the beverage he ordered until it was sat right in front of him.

“What did you get?” she asked, eren sips his drink trying to remember what he ordered under impulses “I think I ordered a jolly rancher drink, with vodka” she looked up at him as he tried a few more sips to conjure his memory. “Yeah, that's what it is” she tried to grab the straw to taste but eren just kissed her lips over and over.

“That's all you get to taste I'm not letting you drink” eren smirks when he sees her pout face, with his free hand he grabs hers telling her to lead them to the game she wants to play. Seeing a ghostbusters game she drags him in the booth. He loved the excitement on her face it meant he was doing an amazing job has a boyfriend and a friend to her, and that's all he ever wanted. “Baby, this is my favorite game, I used to play this all-time mainly by myself cause my old friends didn't like this game” Eren's blood started to boil at the mention of her old friends.

They were toxic, but y/n wanted to see the good in people even though it was hurting her deep inside. Eren couldn't sit and watch them destroy the person he loved, even though they were friends at the time. “Your old friends were walking disappointments, dare to look down upon someone else when they're no better” cupping his cheeks in one hand, she kissed him softly before softly tugging his lips between her teeth. Though he knew she meant it innocently to calm him down, it made him wanna swerve on the highway to get home.

“Calm down babe, I know you hate hearing about them, but trust me I'm happy with y'all” her smile gave eren goosebumps, every time he saw that smile he thought to himself ‘is it humanly possible to fall deeper in love? Even though you're wrapped around their finger?” eren kissed her forehead in response. “Cmon get ready for us to win” his competitive voice commended.

═════°∴,*⋅✲══❏══✲⋅*,∴°═════

After winning the ghostbusters game, here they were at a claw machine where eren was determined to getting y/n a plushie. “You know you don't have to right?” she reminded him but everyone knew, with eren video games and arcades meant competition in his mind. Even when he was courting y/n it was a competition in being a better person for her, changing his old ways. To stop drinking so much, missing out on college parties even though she told him he could. He loved her and wanted to be the best boyfriend he could. Watching as the claw landed on top of the smiling corgi with a strawberry hat on she gasped when it was dropped into the box.

“I remember you wanting this from last time we came here” smiling she stands on her toes to kiss him softly. “Thank you, baby” after all the fun was done y/n was sitting on Eren's lap in the booth while they ate nachos. Jean looked over Eren's shoulder to see an old friend of theirs also known as y/n’s ex. But eren was too busy talking about his college class with Armin. But y/n had a keen eye so she followed his and landed on the source, she knew better than to let eren find out so she turned back which caused eren to caress her thigh over his large hand. “Something the matter love?” he asks her “no baby, I just saw a motorcycle game that looked cool, but I'm getting tired now” she started picking the piece of cotton from his shirt out of his hair.

“Yeah me too, let's go home y'all” jean suggests, they all begin walking out of the arcade bidding goodbyes to everyone just what she was avoiding her ex parked right next to Eren's car. She looked up at him but his eyes were burning holes in his chest and her ex wasn't backing down either. “Hello, eren and y/n, you look beautiful y/n why didn't you dress like that when we were together?” he questioned, eren gave him a sharp knife gaze to which her ex chuckled.

“Take it easy, I can't compliment her? Is that a crime?” he jokes eren smugly leaned against his car and across his chest “no, but to watch you suffer I'd gladly catch a case” his devilish smirk cascaded across his face. Her ex started to tremble at the expression on her boyfriend's face y/n grabbed his hand “can we go home?” she asked politely “yeah, let's go home dear” the aggression in his voice sent rivers in between her legs and shivers down her spine. Opening the door for y/n she got in after letting out a soft sigh, ‘how long was I holding my breath?’ she thought to herself.

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Eren cranked up the car placing his hand on her inner thigh, but close to her weak spot, she didn't say anything just thinking maybe he was doing it by accident, but she didn't mind either. She was comfortable with eren she trusted him. His fingers slowly crawled up her thigh to the waistband, of her panties snapping them across her warm skin his fingers were frigid against hers, a low gasp left her lips when his fingers slipped into her fabric as two of them disappeared into her slit. Her eyes lolling back before he's done anything. “You know how patient I've been?” eren mumbles, y/n looks at him in utter confusion, all she could see was his firm sculptured jawline, the stubbles from his beard coming back.

“Since you came out that house, wearing this beautiful outfit, and your elegant makeup, I wanted to cancel on them and drag you right back into the house” removing his hand from her needy core he spreads her legs open with his free hand, before removing her panties and throwing them in the back seat. Her wet core exposed to the cold air made her squirm to feel anything as if eren could read her mind his index finger slid up and down her core feeling her walls clench in anticipation. “Pretty girl, got all dressed up you look so lovely, dress like this more often and ill reward you hm?” eren pinched her clit between his two fingers making her body twitch the gasp in her throat quickly turned into an air pocket. “You're so beautiful my dear, you want these fingers inside of you?”

“Please?” y/n begged, without further ado, he preps his two fingers coated in her lubrication before sliding them into her needy hole. Her short gasp fueling his desire for her. “Look at you, baby, a beautiful mess for me” eren looks in her direction at the red light to further pound her with his fingers, the palm of his hand slamming against her clit “faster..” she begs her body heat getting warmer by the second “your wish is my command babygirl” eren knew what he was doing saying that word. It was her weakness, eren sped up his fingers as he curled them inside her sloppy hole. The broken syllabus of her saying Eren's name, seeing her squirm next to him fueled him, even more, to just get home fast.

“Eren—I'm coming” her legs were shaking too close but eren pulled out followed by her whine, his glossed fingers smack her inner thigh “keep them open for me pretty girl hm?” he placed his fingers on her tongue as she sucked her flavor off his finger. “Okay,” she whines “good girl” eren praises her. His fingers engulf back into her hole the tender buzzing between her legs resurfaced and she was on edge again. Eren was fingering her faster than he was a moment ago, his left hand gripping the steering wheel as he speeds home to ravish her. “Fuck—” she whispered “you're going to come for me princess?” he asked, she whimpered a small yes feeling her legs trembling to his touch.

“Come for me beautiful” eren decrees, her body shuttered under the drastic sentiment of his fingers coddled inside of her. She couldn't keep her eyes open due to the shock going through her body. His fingers swiped her clit left and right to procure another orgasm out of her, her whimpers twisted into short pants brandishing his wrist with both of her hands after riding out her second orgasm he discarded his hands from her pulsing clit and walloped her essence off his fingers, her legs fastening right after. “Taste as good as you look, princess, you did well for me” smiling at her broken form he just couldn't wait to ravish her at home.

═════°∴,*⋅✲══❏══✲⋅*,∴°═════

Getting home eren wasted no time holding her over his shoulders making her giggle at how needy he is for her. Getting a vigorous glimpse at his leather seats they were lustrous but he didnt have the time or thought to do anything, that all she had to do was wear glittery eyeshadow to get him pungent and irked. Throwing his metallic keys in the receptacle he kicked off his shoes and omitted hers simultaneously. “I love you, you know that?” Eren murmurs before positioning her on the bed “yeah, and I love you more” he cupped her face as their inflamed lips adjoined for each other her nails stroking his stern arms before coiling them in his chocolate locks, strands of his hair mashing against her forehead making her smile into their fervent session. “You’re perfect” Eren mumbles in her neck, vacating humid elegant kisses on her susceptible skin, the forlorn pants and stubble weakness for attention made him sneer against her skin.

His fingers draped around her throat holding her in place as his lips suck softly on his skin, Eren wasn’t an aficionado of hickies, but he did cherish to give soft bites and pulls from his lips on her skin, every time he did it gave her goosebumps. His free hand floundering to get her bra off he latched it off in a matter of seconds, he enables her out of her clothes the nimble air blowing on her body as he clasped his hoodie from the peripheries and over his head. Y/n was enthralled by his sculpted body, his abs defined all the way down to his v-line. “See something you relish princess?” His tongue cascade against his lower lip. “I see something I love” Eren grins “you’re cute” grabbing her by the ankles he heaved her towards the edge of the bed both of her legs upon his shoulder.

Frittering no time Eren hauled his tongue up her folds teasing her, while her head inundated in the pillow reaching out for his hands. Clutching her hand into his, while his tongue swirled around her folds already feeling unstable. Eren invariably said he could devour her for weeks and would never get depleted, now he was eating like he was famished weaving his tongue between her folds his green eyes looked Into her eyes with ardor and fascination, her legs coercing to close when he altered the pattern of his tongue to quick flicks.

She strived to say his name but was ceased by his lips engulfing her clit as he executed zigzags her mouth agape for seconds before she divulged all down his chin fidgeting for something to mellow her down. Eren wasn’t going to let her run away from her fourth orgasm so he dragged her in closer and inserted his fingers into her slowly. “Good girl princess” he gripes across her thighs, sweet kisses to her trembling thighs made him smile, hoisting his head up his fingers swirl inside of her repeatedly peaking at her g-spot. “Going to give me another one princess? Or better yet how about I make you squirt hm?” His eyes drifted darker, they were no longer a sour apple, they resemble the pine trees. “I can’t—“ she smothered grabbing his wrist with both of her hands.

She could feel the knot expanding in her stomach the pressure and feeling to squirt all over his hand along with the overstimulation made her shiver to the touch. “Yes, you can beautiful” Eren cupped her face in his free hand placing endearments on her lips and crown of her head. “Let me see that luxurious face as you soak up the sheets, let daddy discover it baby” his free hand encircled around her neck adding no pressure just to hold her in place. The tones of his palm slapping against her throbbing weak spot. Her pants were getting abrupter and tighter but her moans enhanced almost screaming out Eren's name and some mishandled cursed words. Her liquid soaking up Eren's v-line and mattress.

“Look at you, baby you’re so stunning darling” her drowsy face as her eyes started to cross, as she could see through her hooded eyelashes was Eren coming to land soft kisses on her forehead. Her body felt paralyzed she never knew she could do that. And Eren was the only one to get her to do it. She senses the weight of the bed sink next to her grinning she whirls over, solely to maintain his hand on her midriff and her thighs by his ears. Her hand striking the headboard for support, she didn’t know what he was doing candidly she thought he was complacent, not announcing she wasn't.

He pulled her waist sitting her down on his face, his tongue grazed over her folds making her twinge, “Eren..” she let out desperately “I may suffocate you” she weakly notified him, all distress left her mind once his hand clashed with her ass. Biting her lower lip she sat on his face thoroughly as he rumbled in happiness. She snickered at how much he’s enjoying this, it’s something new for the both of them. Trudging her folds on his tongue she glimpsed down at him seeing the fulfillment in his eyes she extracted the fringes of his hair from his glossy forehead. The traction drove her eccentric she needed more from him, placing his fingers on her bud he stimulated her at the pace she was moving. Which made her more frantic.

Her head lolled back desperately wanting more, she sped up for rhythm as Eren followed in pursuit, becoming greedy with his touch, she was approaching her now fifth? Sixth? Orgasm? She lost count after she left the car. Her forehead firmly pressed against the headboard has she comes undone. Eren cleaned her like a dinner plate he didn’t want any of her Essences to drop. Helping her up he lays her on her stomach, perching her ass up to him. He knew this would ultimately destroy her after they were through but he didn’t care.

She looked beautiful today. His tip taunting her entrance she moaned for him, “I hear you babygirl” his hand collided with her ass leaving a stubble print, her fingers grabbed purchase of the sheets when he rammed himself in without reluctance her toes spiraling until she fully adjusted to his expanse. Sex with Eren was either arduous or delicate, with no in-between. “Look at you taking all of me, lovely girl” fastening his hands around her waist the pitches of his low wails made her clench around him, his waistline hitting against her. She was a whimpering predicament underneath him as he demolished her for what felt like the tenth time.

Skin to skin colliding with the mixture of Eren's dirty talk, and her soft moans she tried to comprise, Eren wanted her to be loud, damn what their neighbors said he wanted to give it to her till she couldn’t fight it. “Cmon baby, utilize your words” he roared at her through his clenched cheeks, the repulse of his body denouncing against her as he continued to ravage her, “let me and the neighborhood hear those delightful little moans” he grabbed her hair placing her head on his shoulder for support as he placed delicate kisses upon her forehead. He slowly placed her back on the bed before he completely drilled her endlessly, she was now on the horizon of crying out his name out, her moans were boisterous than before, if someone didn’t know better they would’ve thought she was shouting for aid.

“Atta girl” Eren facilitated her, her body was simmering as the beads of sweat crept down her shoulder and onto the bed, he adored that face she makes when he ignites her into subspace, he hoists her fully one time holding his length inside of her, she gasped for air as her body started shuddering at the pressure. “Fuck..” was all she could let out as she came undone.“Pretty girl, you’d let me know if I’m being too harsh right?” Eren inquired out of serendipity, all y/n could do was nod. His lips kissed her temple down to her lips in a delicate manner “promise? I need words princess” he uttered in her ear. “Yes,” she let out in the form of a hum.

“Good, I don’t wanna hurt you, or get greedy just because you’re not saying anything okay? I love you” Eren soothed her, “I love you more” y/n responded. Eren slid his length out slowly as she whimpered from her high “sensitive aren't we?” He quips she turns over on her stomach to throw her arms around his neck he kissed her lips softly to savor every feeling he has right now. She wasn’t emigrating anywhere but he certainly kissed her like she was leaving tomorrow. Feeling her hand traversing to his member she brings in closer until he’s halfway inside of her. “You didn’t come” her eyes sparkled into his, the fingertips that were on her cheeks were now In her hair.

“This isn’t too much for you?, honestly just made this about you and how beautiful you looked today” Eren questions her, followed by a short ramble. “this is just perfect, this about us baby I love you” y/n giggles, Eren pressed his forehead against hers “m’kay, I love you more” Eren took the more vigorous approach, soft but drilling strokes, as much as he rushed it now he wanted to admire her. The way her eyebrows pleated when he strike the right spot, the way her lower lip fit merely prudent in between her teeth, the way she nestled his face in her hands, the strings of her hair attaching to her forehead he loved it, he’s never cherished someone as much as her. Picking up the momentum slowly his pants inaugurates to become in unison with hers the smirk on his face when his fingers flickered her bud his nose dusting against her neck.

“Come with me goddess,” he said in her neck, her nails digging into his back, she held on for dear life, her face plunged into his neck as she came, and he withdrew and did the same. Once his eyes were now on her she titters at his handsome crisp green eyes “Eren you’re so beautiful” he derides before kissing her temple. “That’s my line, I may have to litigate you” his craggy voice echoes from the bathroom, with her eyes close she shook at the touch of a calm cloth. “Shh, no ones here” he kidded, y/n smacked him with a pillow before giggling “such a fucking cocky bastard” Eren climbed on top of her “and you love it” he kissed her nose before presenting her his shirt as he put on sweatpants.

“Danger!” She screamed, Eren swiveled his eyes knowing precisely what she meant “don’t fret I’ll take you in the shower darling” y/n eyes enlarged as he pulled her back into his chest “respectfully of course” Eren gleamed in her hair before closing his eyes. “Maybe I should do red glimmer for the party on Wednesday”

“You’ll have to cancel right now if that’s your scheme, cause you’re not leaving you know how red gets me” he laughed, but his tone was far from a hoax “maybe I don’t wanna go” she chortles turning into his chest her nose prickled his collarbone, “deal” he smiled smoothing her shoulders in a circular motion.

“I love you Eren” she grumbled

“I love you more y/n”

♡ ·  ·  ·  · ────•.°本°.•──── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

[acklesterritory]

Bad Ideas_Ch. 1

Hey guys, I'm back with a new story.

*First*: I want to apologize if I tagged you in case you didn't want to. Unfortunately I mixed up my tag list so please even if you don't read this story let me know if you're on my blog's

1. Dean tags or 2.series tags or 3.oneshot tags.

And reblog so the others see this post too. Thanks

**Second*I'm planning on finishing this story in 2 parts but sometimes it can take longer so no promises.

Dean x Reader

This chapter words~4k

Series Warning: +18, a/b/o relationships, Dom/Sub(No details. You know I hate spoilers), Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex (You're wiser that that), Cheating, Language, Hurt reader

Summary: She was supposed to get married and imprint her beloved wolf but what happens when a dominant hunter shows up to hunt them?

This chapter song: Wild by John legend feat Gary Clark Jr. Listen here

And I stole @jay-and-dean 's divider *sorry*

Happy reading and may you leave me something cause feedbacks are writer's fuel.

Mad, Sad, pretty, savage, seductive, crazy!

An obvious alpha.

I knew it from the first time I laid my eyes on her.

Couple of weeks ago I was at a luxury restaurant in my Fed suit to meet a businessman who could be involved in our new case. Doing that random investigation, I was getting convinced that there ain't any useful information and he was nothing but a waste of the time. So I excused myself and left the table to call Sam in the lobby. He had to know it was a dead end. But just when I was putting my phone back in my pocket, someone grabbed my arm from behind and pushed me against the wall out of blue.

"Say your name."

Wasn't my first time to face a seductive woman but for some unknown reason her whisper sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn't stop my eyes from gazing at her curves in that elegant black outfit.

"Listen. I got myself into this awful situation where I had to face this filthy woman announcing everyone in my birthday party that she was sleeping with my fiance. So before he show up to stop me, I need you to help them realizing something very important about me. And that help will be appreciated. So make your mind. You can just simply say your name and mention your price or I will kill you to make a scene and skip everyone's pitty looks part." She told me, running her right leg up, between my legs. To make me feel the bulge of her thigh holester underneath her dress: *She had a gun*

Wetting my lips, I looked down into her eyes for a second. She had some make up on but I knew enough to be sure that wild look couldn't be fake. She was a werewolf who probably had no idea what she got herself into.

"Name's Dean." I bit on my lip. Why I let her know my real name? I had no idea. I didn't want to think about it either. I just wanted to hold my gaze there, Letting myself to catch on those burning flames in her eyes.

"And sorry sweetheart. I'm off the sale."

I brought my lips closer to her ear so she could hear my whisper. However I hadn't to bend so much. Even without those elegant highheels, she was taller than a normal chick.

"What do you want, then?" She almost hissed on my lips before I pushed her back.

"Maybe I want you to be even more angry. Who knows?" I joked, distracting her for a second by my intentional smirk.

"You are a hunter, aren't you?" This time she surprised.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes and peaked out the tongue to wet my lips when she turned around for a second to catch a glimpse of whoever was approaching us.

"Just save my honor and then I'm yours. Kill, rape, torture. I don't mind anymore." There was no regret, shame or sorrow in her tone. She just stated it like a random proven fact. No hesitation, no hard feelings, no doubts. She was speaking like a smart commander in a war field, negotiating with her enemy to just save the day.

And to be honest I was stunned by that behavior. I know that I could resist her when she right away reached out but the thing is I didn't want to. As soon as she snaked her arms around my neck, her smell surrounded me like a trap. A captivating one. So pleasant! Then her lips were on mine in a shameless open-mouthed kiss. With her tongue dancing with mine.

I closed my eyes and immediately blood started to run wild in my veins. Every fiber, every cell were reacting to her warm body against my cold existence. It felt strange. I never was aroused by a kiss this fast. Not even when I was just a virgin teen.

"Y/n?!" A gruff voice called her. So she had to draw an unintentional groan out of me to break the kiss.

"That's him." She murmured on my lips. And I opened my eyes to look at a tall man in his fancy tuxedo. He was handsome. But not as much as he was wealthy. His watch could cost the whole hotel itself!

"What are you doing?" Eyes burning, he stared at me. Like he was watching the most terrible scene ever in his life.

"Well, ..." She smiled mischievously, getting out of my arms to stand next to me.

"Just enjoying my heat with a man who actually can handle it." She stated, smiling with her head up, radiating power.

"What..." The man's gaze shifted between us in disbelief.

"What do you ... what does ..." He was getting red by anger. And it seemed she couldn't care less.

"This is a break up, Jamie. I'm done with your endless excuses. I'm done with you, sleeping around while you can't even satisfy my needs in the bed. I need a better man."

*well, shit*

"You're … how you … can …" The man stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief. I looked around and found out people were gathering around us slowly. From the corner of my eyes I spotted two hunk in suits in front of the main door. They were definetaly bodyguards.

"That's it. We are done." She announced while everyone held their breath; watching her taking off her ring and throwing it toward her newly "ex".

"Y/N! …" The man took a step forward. His eyes were on fire and rage. Still his tone was soft, unlike his rough voice. "You can't do this. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" She laughed, tilting her head. Everyone could see how her fangs looked perfectly white and sharp: Ready, challenging, threatening!

"Is that so, Jamie?" She mocked before bringing out her phone out of her tiny clutch, throwing it to the guy after playing a video on it. By the noises I could hear, it was a sex type that made the man sweating bullets in no time.

"Now get the fuck out of my way and out of my life." She retorted, grabbing my hand. And as I was planning to win over the two bodyguards who mightly would stop us, we just reached to the main front door.

"Miss Y/l/N …" To my surprise, one of the bodyguards approached us politely. looking cool, calm, and all in control.

"You two can go home, Mark. I'm gonna spend the night with …" She hesitated and shut her eyes for a second to remember my name:

"… Dee. We probably need some private time for the next few days. I'll call you when I feel I need to get back home. But til that, I don't want any interruptions." She declared and by her steady and sure tone I could say she used to talk with them.

"But …"

"Just don't let Jamie get close to me ever again." She cut the bodyguard's word carelessly and then turned her face to look at me.

"You got any car?"

"Of course I do." I gave her my most proud smile.

"Ok then. Let's go out of here. I don't want to even take one more breath in here anymore."

I watched enough movies and read enough comics and slept with enough women to know that Y/n was a whole different savage alpha.

She was on the baby's seat in just her one single layer fancy dress that barely covered her body while it was freezing cold outside. To the point I could feel the chill in my FBI suit and coat the moment we walked out of the hotel. And still she protested me when I turned on baby's heater.

"She was pregnant." She said bluntly, a few minutes later, looking out of the window like she could see anything in road at that dark night through baby's steamed up glass.

I looked over her and catch a glimpse of her tears before she could wipe them.

"I can't believe he did this to me. Out of all the people, Jamie was the last one I expected him to betray me." She was hurting but her voice wasn't shaky. She still sounded more angry than sad.

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe the chick misused the hit of a moment to trick him."

*Why I'm defending him? He is a freaking werewolf!*

I had no idea! Maybe I was trying to soothe her pain. But Why?

"Yeah, maybe. But after all he is the one who let the devil in!" Her sound wasn't more than a whisper but it woke the old screams of my guiltyconscience in my head:

*How many times I had let the devil get in me?*

"Screw him." She said through her clenched teeth. Then she threw her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Screw him. Screw dad. And screw the whole royal pack. Screw everything!"

I sighed, knowing she will be angry for a while. So I turned on the radio, changing the stations to find something that might distract her. I just didn't need to watch that lady's upcoming tears.

I … wanna take you so far.

Out past the Saturn rings

And into my heart

The rhythm catched my attention immediately. It sounds like a nice song. A comforting one.

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

I wanna love you

For miles and miles

I chuckled, patting Baby on the wheels.

We can go slow,

we don't need to rush

I'll take the wheel,

make you feel every touch

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

"Where is the lie, Baby? I always do." I chuckled, enjoying how the song perfectly suit us.

"Are you talking to me or to your old ass car?"

I was so ready to make Y/n regret that harsh remark, yet when I turned to give her my deadliest frown, she got me almost chocked on my tongue.

"Wha …"

A lace black lingerie hanging around the right knee, she had her legs wide open on my passenger seat‌, playing with her bare core with her delicate fingers while her left foot was using dashboard to support her weight.

Lay on the passenger's side

Tell me how fast you want

We'll get there tonight

Her right strap dropped when she jolted in her sex fever, almost revealing whole of her bare chest. And all of this was happening while she still had her eyes closed, panting in pain. I felt like I lost the ability to even form a God damn sound.

Oh, fire, you set me on fire

I swear you're the only one

I'd take on this ride

"What … are you … doing?!" My voice sounded horrible, scratchy and far. I darted my tongue to wet my lips but my mouth was already dry by watching her. It was no surprise that she didn't noticed my question. She was already lost in her body. Her neck was glistening under road's occasional faint lights and now all I could feel was her warmth in the small room of the car, already surrendered to her astounding smell, in middle of a freaking winter night.

… Oh, oh

Yeah

Wanna love you

Wanna touch you

Wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild …

I jumped out of my skin when a sudden honk drew my attention out … to the road and I finally noticed the truck that could crash us to hell if I couldn't rotate the wheel just on time.

*Dang* Something beside me hit the windshield the moment I stepped on the break. Then a shattering sound cut the air.

"Y/N!" I screamed, trying to pull over without making any other mess.

"Hey … you hear me?" I asked as I turned to see her face buried in her hairs on the dashboard. A part of the windshield was broken in an oval shape, broken pieces scattered mostly on the passenger side while the rest of it had some cracks on.

"Y/N!" I called her again but when I couldn't get any answer, I get out of the car to circulate baby and open the passenger door.

"Hey … look here, can you hear me?" I pulled her carefully back, to rest her head against the seat, securing her neck between my hands. That was when my eyes catched on the sight of a deep cut on her forehead, right under the hair line. And it was bleeding.

"Y/n?"

She moaned, goosebumps raised on her skin everywhere around my fingers.

"I think I need to lay down on the back seat." She said, before opening her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" I couldn't help myself, not knowing why I suddenly would care that much?

She smiled and I reached to wipe the oozing blood on my thumb.

"I got a first-aid box in my trunk. Just wai…"

Before I could finish my saying and right as I started to withdraw, she grabbed my arm to hold me still.

"No, help me to the back seat." For a second I got lost in her eyes, feeling an odd fultter in the dip of my stomach, pulling me like a meaningless swarf toward the magnet of her wondrous touch.

"Please."

Mostly humans know that drinking sea water or getting hit by a gunshot can cause their death. But could that knowledge stop them from exploring oceans or fighting for their honor in the war fields?

"Dean …"

"Alright."

Well, I was a human too. A human who could be attracted to unknowns, being aware that it could be very dangerous. Or maybe more marvelous.

"You ok?" I asked as soon as I had her on my back seat, gazing at the sweat running down on the side of her face while one of my legs were resting inside of car, the other: still out, planted on the ground.

"I think I've hurt my back." I spotted a tremor in her voice as she avoided my puzzled look and stared down to her lap like she was hiding a secret there. Was that weapon still hidden there in that holster?

I checked my gun to be where it should've been. If she (as a werewolf) was up to kill me (as a hunter), I knew this could be her best shot. And honestly if It was me, I would've used the same trick.

"Are you gonna wait there for the rest of the night?" She raised her eyebrows and instantly hissed as the deep cut on her forehead got wrinkled with this simple move.

Taking a deep breath, I pulling myself completely in and closed the door behind. Well, I was aware that without any way out, she could've killed me much easier. But what kind of human could touch the moon without taking any fetal risk?

However I still didn't want to hurt her. So I hoped she wouldn't do what an enemy should do.

As I was all ready to confront her attack, she slightly turned her back to me. Then she grabbed her long hair and put them aside, giving me the access to her spine.

"Can you check it for me?"

Well, if she wanted to play, I was game too. In the end, I had killed enough werewolves to know how I could manage an alpha one like her. But … it was about something more. Something way stronger: A wild need and an ancient desire to touch her bare skin on my fingertips, tongue and teeth. A perfect example of a hunter and his prey. And yet … I was feeling like the first man who was about to discover the fire too.

"Do you want me to unzip it?" I asked to be sure. Never wanted her to feel like I would hurt her honor just because we were enemies. Even when touching her was all I could think about at the moment.

"Yes, please." She whispered and I noticed the same burning wish in her soft tone. So I couldn't help my fingers run their way on her back and touch the velvety fabric of her outfit.

She inhaled loudly as I unzipped the dress, watching the goosebumps raising on her skin as I was tracking down on her spine.

"I don't think you got any wound here."

"Then why I'm in pain?" She asked, leaning back to me. And I subconsciously pulling her dress down, not knowing why my everything wanted to touch her more?

"Hunter." Her breaths got quickened and as she rested her head back on my right shoulder and nuzzled her nose in my neck, I could tell she was still burning up.

"I'm in heat." She said, panting. And that was the moment I realized she was already lost by just imagining me inside of her.

"Y/n …"

"Dean ..." She whined as her hand found the side on my head.

"Dean, I need you." With that she pushed me down to claim my lips in a lustful kiss.

I could be a caveman or a scientist, or even an astronaut but for sure she was more than a thunderstorm or the electricity or even the mars itself.

"Ah … " She whimpered, her body twisted in my arms, like an angry wounded animal that was seeking for a remedy. From her owner.

"This is such a bad idea." I said as my hands grabbed her waist, trying to control her moves when she started to roll her hips impatiently.

"That's what people always say. To Galileo, To Da Vinci, even to ..." She claimed, taking my fingers with her delicate ones, to guide my hands up on her body.

" … to whoever with … " I stole her breath as my hands reached to her soft breasts.

"With the …"

She took a shaky breath to keep herself together. But I was that man who just had landed on the moon and now wasn't able to stop trying. So I grazed my teeth on the skin of her neck, marking her with a hickey right as I squeezed her breasts, giving her aroused nipples the special attention they deserved with my thumbs. Well, she fought to not fall apart and I had to fill her blank spaces:

"Best ideas?" I asked before biting on her lips, feeling the burning heat that was coming out of her skin. Could moon ever be the sun too?

"Hunter!" She almost cried as my left hand travels down on her belly and hips to find her already swelled bud and part her labia. "HUNTER!"

This time she really screamed as my thumb brushed her bud again while my other two digits sank in her warm core. Her walls sucked on my fingers.

"OH GOD!"

I was still rubbing her nipple with my other hand when she dug her nails in my arms.

"No!" She gasped.

"No? I thought you said it's not a bad idea."

I whispered before taking her earlobe between my teeth and pulled on it as her back fought hard to arch against my body. She got speechless, drown in whatever the black hole we both had fallen into. Now time and place were lost for us so I tightened my arms more around her body.

"Shush, alpha. Take it easy." I said as I removed my fingers from where I was making her weak. And that was out of the bare truth of a human's nature. We love to possess and we love to own. Even if it's the moon and the sun or maybe a lost star in the Infinity of the universe.

She jolted forward in ecstasy and I had to grabbed her wrists firmly before she could end herself: "No."

"Please! … God." She whimpered. Thighs shaking with need and thirst. But I knew better.

"My name is Dean."

But what else could make a negligible creature like me feel like a God more than this wolf of women during her pleasure?

I kissed her shoulder and hugged her from behind, letting her cool down as our warmth were mixing in the small room of the car. She was panting again.

"Come here."

I turned her chin toward my face, tasting her lips in an open mouthed and yet tender kiss, taking my time to draw some deep moans out of her chest.

Til she was nothing more than a pounding heart or a throbbing mess and a mind which had already got blind by lust.

Somehow I wanted this prideful moment to last forever.

"Deeaaaan!" She rubbed her thighs against each other, trying her best to control her wild necessity to come. I could tell it was making her mad cause now she couldn't even sit up in my lap.

"Lay down, sweetheart" I encouraged. And as she did, I got rid of our clothes as soon as I could. When I was done, I noticed her passionate gaze on me.

"You'll be the death of me!" She admitted and I bent to lick her along her jaw.

"No, I need you alive. We still got some dirty work to do."

My whisper made her shiver. And moan. Again and again.

Looking down, I watched how her body were twisting under me, once more rubbing her thights together as I was holding her wrists up beside her head.

"Open up, alpha." I commended, reaching to her core, making her pants in pain as I mercilessly squeezed her bud.

She took another shaky breath, as she parted her legs for me. So I take the advantage to lube myself with her juice as she was already dripping.

"I said don't come yet." I slapped her breast and bent to bite her hard on the other one, sliding myself in her velvety heaven.

"DEAN!" She cried and her eyes rolled. And I tried to freeze this image in my mind. Could a God be more proud of himself?

But It was just the beginning. I decided to start my favorite rhythm to slam into her. And kept watching her bliss and how her soft and round breast were bouncing every time out hips met.

"You're doing good, sweetheart. I know you can." I could not stopped my smile when I realized she'd almost fainted, fighting against her mad orgasm.

"Aa…ha." She tried to answer but it sounded more like a painful moan which I muffled it in a kiss. Sweet and sore. Wet and shameless. We now were a part of one another. The mystery was solved. The cold God was melting in the arms of the sun. The man kind had won the moon.

"Come." I groaned and her walls clenched around me, sucking me inside of her.

Her back arched violently and I had to clutched at the leather seats to keep myself up when an unstoppable rush of pleasure hit both of us.

And just like that, we made the big trouble. The gravity that could swallow our futures all together …

"To be continued".

Temporary tag list: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @slamminmine @missafairy @anunstablefangirl @lauraashley93 @mimaria420 @roonyxx @chocolateheart @cocahood @pandaxo79 @bennyspengwing @holylulusworld

[delacyrose224]

Long Story Short

-Pairing: guitarist!Jin x reader (named)

-Premise: You've been hurt in past relationships, but there's a goofy guitarist that seems to be passing every test you throw at him. Now what?

-Genre: rock band!AU, fluff with a sprinkle of angst (as always)

-Warnings: cursing, douchebag Namjoon, shirtless Seokjin (which always deserves a warning for heart health)

-Word Count: 4.8k

-Author's Note: This is conclusion to the evermore trilogy/Gold Rush universe. Based off of 'long story short' by Taylor Swift, but once again, you don't need to know the song to enjoy!

*Bzzt bzzt*

You hear the buzzing of your phone from across the room where you’re curled up in a blanket watching tv. Who the heck is calling you on a Saturday morning at 10am? You fling the blanket off yourself and pad over to your bag, fumbling through its contents until you find your phone, angrily screaming your ringtone even louder as you remove it from its hiding place.

Incoming Call: Jin

Uhh...okay. You’d gone out on a date with him a few days ago, and last night you and your best friend had hung out with him and his band. That didn’t explain him calling and interrupting your me time on Saturday morning.

“...hello?”

“Margot?” Jin sounds far away from the receiver for some reason.

“...live and in person. Well, not in person. You know what I mean. What’s up?” you reply, not knowing where this is all going.

“Can’t I call a pretty girl on a Saturday morning because I miss her?” Jin retorts, still sounding far away from the phone. Good thing he’s not here to see the flush creeping onto your cheeks.

“You can, but you literally just saw me last night. Like 12 hours ago, less even. Why do you sound like you’re calling from outer space?”

“You’re on speaker...I guess I should have started the conversation with that bit of information. I’m making the boys brunch because I’m apparently the only one who can cook around here,” you can almost see how hard Jin is rolling his eyes at this statement.

“Hi Jungkook! Hi Yoongi!” you raise your voice to make sure you’re heard in their apartment.

“...hey.” you hear Yoongi close by, followed by Jungkook yelling across the room. “Hey M!! Jin won’t shut up about you, I think he might be in loooooove,” he singsongs.

“And that’s enough of that,” Jin swiftly turns off speakerphone and you can hear him much more clearly all of a sudden.

“Is it true? Are you in loooooove with me?” you mimic Jungkook’s voice.

“Have I ever told you how pretty your singing voice is?” Jin deflects smoothly. You’re so taken aback by the response, you don’t know what to say next.

“As I see I have made you speechless-I tend to have that effect on women-and men, actually...the world is just stunned by my beauty, honestly. No one is immune,” he derails quickly from wherever he was originally going with his sentence, and you giggle.

“Jinnie-you called me at 10am on a Saturday morning, because why…?” you steer the conversation back to where it needs to go.

“Ah yes...I called because I wanted to see if you wanted to cash in on that second date I promised you earlier this week tonight?” he questions.

“I think I would like that,” you smile, remembering your first date three days ago. He had taken you to dinner at a hole in the wall diner where he seemed to know all the elderly waitresses by name, and after the two of you had gone to a drive-in movie.

“Great. I’ll swing by your apartment to pick you up at 7, if that’s okay?” he sounds a little unsure of himself, unusual for him.

“Sounds perfect. Is there anything specific I should wear?”

“Just something casual, nothing fancy. I’ll see you then, pretty girl.”

“See you...oh, and Jinnie?” He hums in response.

“I missed you too,” you smile.

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

You flop back down on the couch after hanging up with a smile on your face. Jin’s very sweet, and not quite what you expected. He’s the lead guitarist for the band Gold Rush, who you’ve been a fan of for about half a year. You’d happened to catch them as the opening act for another band you’d gone to see, and immediately had fallen in love with their music. It didn’t hurt that all the band members were cute either...you’d only seen them that one time as an opener, until you’d seen a flier for a show of theirs at The Dynasty, a small local bar. You’d immediately decided to drag your best friend to see them, making it a game with yourself to try and get Jin’s attention, and to your surprise, it had worked. He and the drummer, Jungkook, had asked the two of you to hang out after the show. After grabbing food, Jin had asked for your number and taken you out on a date the next day, eagerly promising you a second the following weekend.

If you were being honest with yourself, Jin fell into the trap of being your ‘type’. He was in a band, could sing and play guitar, and had healthy (bordering on sometimes too much) self-esteem. He reminded you of your ex, Namjoon. Also in a band, also a lead guitarist, also could be full of himself. All Jin was missing was an undercut and a few scattered tattoos. You supposed Jungkook had enough for the two of them combined.

You sigh deeply as you wrap yourself back into your blanket. Namjoon had destroyed you when it came to relationships in some ways, even though he had started off as a rebound from another toxic relationship. He had fallen into all the stereotypical ‘guy in a band’ tropes: his needs were more important than yours, he had cheated on you multiple times with groupies, and he gaslit you when you tried to talk through what was going on. You had put up with his shit for far too long, until your best friend had opened your eyes to how different you’d become. Quiet, less likely to speak your mind, and even less willing to be social. Once you’d left him, you’d felt a giant weight lifted off your shoulders, but it had made you extremely wary of relationships.

Jin was cute, and you didn’t see the harm in a couple of dates. He was funny and talented, and he hadn’t pissed you off yet, which was a win in your book. There’s no way he was actually interested in a real relationship...he was clearly a flirt, as you’d witnessed the night you met when he gave you his guitar pick, and he was too busy. He was in a band that was trying to break into the larger music scene in your city. You’d both have your fun, and move on with your lives.

Right?

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

You busy yourself the rest of the day by completing household chores. By the time you’re getting ready for your date, you’ve managed to vacuum, do several loads of laundry, wash the dishes in your sink, and rearrange your bookshelf in your bedroom. You hop in the shower at 5:30, and contemplate your outfit choice while washing your hair. A sundress should work...it’s been warm outside lately, but it’s still cute while being casual. You’ll wear sneakers with it just in case you end up walking somewhere.

You throw on said sundress and sneakers after toweling off, and decide you’ll go for fun accessories-specifically a pair of dinosaur earrings and a crossbody bag in a bright shade of pink, swiping on a lipstick to match. You smile in approval at yourself in the mirror just as you hear a soft knock at the door.

You step into your living room, opening the door to see Jin looking rather nervous. “Hey handsome,” you grin. He’s wearing a pair of dark wash ripped jeans with a lavender hoodie that’s a little too big on him. Cute.

“Hey you...you look nice,” he returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You ready to go?”

“Yep! Where are we going?” you ask as you grab your keys and shut the door, making sure it’s locked behind you.

“Well, I figured we could start with a walk through the park. It’s still light out for a little while, but we might be able to catch the sunset...there’s also a great ice cream stand off one of the trails, so if you want to, we can grab some. After, I figured we could come back to your place and watch a movie, your pick, obviously. Does that sound okay?” he glances over at you as you both take the stairs down to the ground floor of your apartment building, opening the door for you as you reach the outside.

“Hmm…” you pretend to think as you turn to walk the two blocks to the park. Jin’s eyebrows raise, as he quickly jumps to conclusions-that the park was the worst idea you’d ever heard.

“I think it’s perfect. I’ll race you to the park, loser buys the other ice cream!!” You laugh and sprint off in the direction of the park, silently thanking yourself for wearing sneakers.

“You little...oh, come on!” Jin starts running as well, his long legs giving him an advantage as his wide strides let him catch up to you quicker than you thought. You’re neck and neck for most of the second block, sweat starting to form on both your brows.

“You’re...not...beating...me!” You huff, nimbly dodging around a pedestrian walking their dog.

“Oh...really?” Jin breathes out harshly, leaping over someone’s spilled smoothie in the middle of the sidewalk. You can both see the entrance to the park, it should only take a minute more to get there...suddenly, Jin puts on a burst of speed, sprinting his way to the entrance before you can even say anything in protest.

You arrive a few seconds later, huffing and puffing as you place your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“I believe you were saying something about me not beating you? What was that?” Jin is beaming, his eyes glinting mischievously as he looks down at you.

You still can’t manage to catch your breath enough for a response, so you settle instead for glaring daggers up at him.

“C’mon, loser. I promised you a leisurely walk, so let’s go...even though you already took us both for a run no one asked for,” Jin chuckles, grabbing your hand as you stand up and interlocking your fingers.

Your face warms, and not just from the sprinting. You’re surprised that Jin isn’t annoyed with you for pulling the stunt you just did...it wasn’t like you planned it exactly, but it worked well as a sort of test to see exactly how much nonsense Jin would put up with. So far, more than you thought he would. You smile to yourself.

“What’re you grinning about now? If it’s another race, I give up, you win!” Jin exclaims loudly, drawing stares from several passersby on the trail you’ve chosen.

“Shhh…” you shush him, trying to place a finger in front of his lips. He playfully bites at it before kissing it quickly. Your eyes widen. “People are staring,” you half-whisper, slightly embarrassed.

“...and? Let them stare. I’m on a date with a pretty girl, and I don’t care if the world knows! Isn’t Margot wonderful?!” he raises his voice for the last bit, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. The warmth from earlier returns, creeping even further up your face. You must be entirely red by now by the levels of heat you feel like you’re radiating. Jin takes advantage of your flustered state by taking your other hand and pulling you close. He wraps both arms tightly around you and buries his face in your hair, kissing you lightly on the top of the head. You pull away, eyes widened in wonderment at his actions. Who is this guy? You can’t quite figure him out.

“What? You’re pretty, I’m lucky you’re on a date with me, and I’m an affectionate guy. Sometimes. Well, maybe only with you. But only if you’re okay with it…” Jin rambles. His ears look close to emitting steam with how red they’re turning...you’re glad you’re not the only one being thrown off your game with how this date is going. It’s endearing how he switches so easily between being confident and shy depending on your reactions to him.

“C’mon, Jinnie...I think I owe you some ice cream, right?” you smile as you reach for his hand, leading him further along the trail you were walking along.

You walk along quietly for a bit, the silence only broken when Jin coos over dogs as you pass them. It warms your heart to see just how kind and soft he truly is...not what you expected from your previous experiences with a certain lead guitarist.

As you round a bend in the trail, Jin picks up the pace significantly, forcing you to speed walk to catch up. “Hey, where’s the fire?” you question, legs starting to burn as you attempt to keep pace.

“Huh? Oh sorry, the ice cream stand is just up here, I got excited.” He gestures ahead of the two of you with your intertwined hands. Sure enough, there’s a small ice cream stand a few paces away.

As you walk up, you see that the stand is manned by a kindly looking old woman who looks like she could be your grandmother. “Oh, you two are such a cute couple! How long have you been dating?” she asks.

“Oh, um...this is only our second date,” you answer, feeling slightly awkward.

“Could’ve fooled me! He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. What can I get you?” Jin coughs suddenly at the old woman’s observation, his ears reddening for the second time that night.

You look over to the menu propped up on the counter of the stand.

Vanilla

Chocolate

Strawberry

Mint Chocolate Chip

Cookies and Cream

“What do you say, Jinnie? Strawberry? Mint Chocolate Chip?”

“If I wanted to have mint flavored anything, I would have just brought my toothpaste with me...mint chocolate chip? How can you think so lowly of me?” he pouts at you, supremely offended that you even suggested such a thing.

“Okayyyyy...didn’t realize you were so picky about ice cream flavors. What do you want, then?” you roll your eyes at him, but not without grinning.

“I’ll take a vanilla cone, thankyouverymuch,” he replies grinning back at you.

“One vanilla cone, and one cookies and cream cone.” You hand the woman cash and she begins to fill your order. Soon after she is handing you both ice cream encased in freshly made waffle cones. You both thank her and continue your walk along the trail. You bite into the top of your ice cream, relishing the coolness in the warm evening that surrounds you.

“...you bite ice cream?” Jin is staring at you open-mouthed in horror.

“Yes? If I just licked it, it would all melt before I could eat it. Don’t judge me!” you glare over at Jin.

“Oh too late for that, sweetheart. First you asked if I wanted mint chocolate chip ice cream, and now I find out you bite your ice cream? What are you, a serial killer?” he raises an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Wouldn’t you love to know?” you turn menacingly towards him, brandishing your cone like a weapon. “They call me...The Ice Cold Killer. Beware!”

“Ooo, I’m scared. Someone help me,” Jin chuckles, his empty hand raised in surrender as he takes a lick of his ice cream.

“You should be scared, handsome,” you continue walking towards him, raising your cone ever so slightly with each step.

“...what are you doing? Oh no, you don’t!” Just as you go to smush your cone into his face, he grabs both of your wrists. “I think not,” he grins, lowering your hands to the level of your waist.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you pout, looking up at Jin. When he’s this close, it seems like he’s towering over you...and as you make eye contact, you notice his attention keeps flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“Oh, I can be lots of fun,” he whispers lowly as he leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. Just as his lips start to ghost over your own, someone clears their throat behind you. You both spring apart, whipping around to see who’s interrupted you.

Tall, dressed in all black, tattoos scattered across both arms. A sneer on his face as he takes he two of you in with his gaze.

Namjoon.

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

“Well, well, well...how’s it going, Margot? How’d you end up in the middle of the park with this loser?” Namjoon asks. You have no clue why he’s here, and it feels like you’re suddenly trapped in a nightmare. Jin looks confused, glancing between the two of you, trying to figure out how you’re connected.

“Don’t think too hard, lover boy. I can see the steam coming out from your ears with how hard you’re thinking about this-Margot and I used to date.” Namjoon provides, still with that same smirk on his face. Jin’s eyes widen in understanding, but then narrow again as he processes the way he’s being talked to.

“It’s Seokjin, actually. What are you doing here, Kim? Didn’t Gold Rush beat your stupid band in our last exhibition?” Jin spits out harshly.

Namjoon doesn’t deign to give him a response, instead turning back to you. “Margot, really...this is who you went to after me? You know he has no talent, right? Yoongi writes all their songs, and Jungkook is the visual draw for their band. I expected better of you…” he chuckles. “But maybe not...you never did know what was best for you. You let me walk all over you, didn’t you?” he smirks.

Jin moves to reply, but you’re faster. “Yes, I did let you walk all over me and treat me like shit for entirely too long, Namjoon. Thank goodness I had people in my life that cared enough about me to open my eyes to how much of a giant ASSHOLE you were...and Jin? Jin has more talent in his pinky than you’ll have your whole career-I would know because I spent entirely too long going to your boring shows. Jin has treated me better in two dates than you ever have! And how’s this for knowing what’s best for me?”

You stride forward, ice cream cone in hand, until you’re directly in front of Namjoon. Eyes wild, you lift your cone and smash it into his chest. Cookie bits and ice cream smear into his shirt as your waffle cone shatters into pieces on the ground.

“You bitch!” Namjoon roars, rearing back, looking for all the world like he’s about to slap you. Before he can get very far, a large hand wraps tightly around his wrist.

“Leave. Now.” Jin is glaring darkly at Namjoon from behind you. As Namjoon starts to speak, Jin tightens his grip. “I said...leave.”

Namjoon jerks his hand out of Jin’s grip and rubs his wrist where the other man’s hand was. “Fine. You two deserve each other,” he glares as he marches away.

Once Namjoon is out of sight, Jin immediately turns to you. “Margot, are you okay?” he rests his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes.

You’re frozen in place, still shocked at everything that just happened.

“...I just smashed an ice cream cone on Kim Namjoon…” you utter softly.

“Yes, you did. And it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, if I’m being honest.” Jin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly with one hand, chuckling.

His comment brings you back into the moment. “Everything that just happened, and that’s all you can think of?” you ask him in disbelief.

“Not all!” Jin retorts. “I have a lot of thoughts right now: 1. How did the two of you ever date? 2. Why am I not surprised that he’s a giant asshole? He always is the worst any time we play shows at the same venue. 3. Yeah, my third thought is that you standing your ground and giving him what he deserves is hot, so sue me.”

You laugh. “Three thoughts isn’t a lot of thoughts, but yes, we did date a while, biggest mistake of my life. I fell for the tortured, tattooed lead guitarist thing.”

“Should I get tattoos then? I mean, I thought I was handsome enough as is, but if this,” he gestures at himself, “isn’t enough, then I’m happy to oblige. Your name in a heart with an arrow through it? A skull with a snake around it? You say the word, beautiful, I’ll do it.” he smirks playfully at you.

“Be careful what you wish for, or you’ll end up with a tattoo on your ass,” you giggle as you elbow him.

His eyes widen in momentary fear. “I’m kidding, silly. Let’s go back to my place and watch a movie.”

The two of you walk hand in hand through the rest of the park, Jin passing you his ice cream cone to share since yours ended up destroyed.

“I guess you really are The Ice Cold Killer...of ice cream cones, that is,” he remarks as you walk through the exit and head back to your apartment.

“I told you you should be scared.”

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

You both sink down into your couch once you arrive at your apartment, Jin placing a blanket over the two of you.

“So, what’s the feature presentation this evening?” he queries, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Moulin Rouge!” you happily reply to his chagrin.

“...isn’t that a musical?” he asks, to which you nod in the affirmative.

“Is that a problem?” You knew that musicals were another one of your tests for the guys you dated. You did honestly enjoy them, but you needed to know if the men you dated would put up with them.

“Nope. I mean, I don’t think I would pick one, but I said it’s your choice. Plus, you’re the one who destroyed a douchebag tonight, so your pick is definitely earned.” He settles back into the couch as the movie starts to play, and you place your head on his shoulder. It fits perfectly into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his laundry detergent mixed with the park you just walked through is extremely comforting. So comforting in fact, you can feel your eyelids getting heavy about a third of the way through the movie.

The lack of background noise is what slowly wakes you up...the movie must be over. When did you fall asleep? You lift your head off of Jin’s shoulder, only to see he has remnants of tears on his face.

“Jinnie? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, quickly swiping at his face to remove any lingering evidence of his tears. “I...I cried at the end of the movie, that’s all. Satine died! Musicals are supposed to be happy-I’m appalled!”

Your heart feels like it’s blooming with all the warmth that’s spreading through your chest as you look at the man beside you. As you begin to say something in response, your eyes catch the digital clock blinking from your microwave across the room. 12:30AM.

“Oh, it’s late...do you want to stay over so you don’t have to go across town at this time? The busses stop running soon anyway.” Jin’s eyes grow wide at your question.

“N-Not like that! I meant to sleep, just sleep. Only if you want to!” You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

Jin reaches out and removes your hands from your face, tilting your chin up with his finger so you make eye contact with him.

“I’d love to,” he smiles softly at you, his hand remaining on your chin, pulling you slowly closer to him as he moves closer to you as well. Your faces are inches apart again, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Is this okay?” he breathes.

You grab the sides of his face in response, crushing your lips to his. He is impossibly soft, and warm. His hands wrap around your back again, tenderly bringing you as close as he can to himself. He’s holding you as if you are tethering him to Earth, like you are what hung the stars in the sky. You sigh into the kiss, and he takes that as a cue to deepen the kiss further. He’s more insistent, holding you tighter. Before it can get too heated, you break apart for air.

“Sorry I got a little carried away,” he chuckles, gently pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You laugh as you clearly get a look at his face.

“What?” he pouts at you.

“Come here.” You stand up, pulling him with you to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. You flip the light on, positioning him in front of the mirror. As both of your eyes adjust to the extra light, his widen impossibly-he’s got pink lipstick messily smeared around his mouth from kissing you.

“So much for world wide handsome, huh?” you laugh.

He turns towards you. “I’ll have you know, I am handsome no matter what I look like!” he huffs indignantly. Nevertheless, he turns the faucet on and starts to wipe away the makeup.

You leave him to get ready for bed in the bathroom while you trudge to your closet to find something to change into, settling for an oversized tee with shorts. As you close the door behind you, Jin leaves the bathroom in only his boxers. Your eyes become wide as saucers as you notice his lack of clothing in addition to how in shape he is.

“Oh, um...sorry, I usually just sleep in these. I can put my shirt back on if I need to?” he questions shyly.

“No, you’re fine, I just don’t normally have half naked men walking around my apartment,” you laugh quietly.

Jin climbs into your bed and starts to scroll through his phone as you head into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed yourself. You climb in beside him ten minutes later, turning your lamp off and staring up at the ceiling...you’re not sure exactly how this is supposed to go. You’re not in a relationship, but you’re in the same bed, and he had seen you completely lose your cool on your ex. What was even appropriate in this situation?

After what feels like an indeterminate amount of silence, Jin speaks into the dark.

“So...what exactly happened with you and Namjoon?” he sounds nervous, his voice much quieter than normal.

You sigh. “We met after one of his shows. He was charming at first, but then he started making everything about him and his band. Then he cheated on me. Three times. Gaslit me when I tried to talk to him about it. Long story short, it was a bad time,” you grimace, even though you know Jin can’t see you.

“...come here.”

You’re surprised that this is his response, but you comply by scooting next to him. He wraps an arm around you and squeezes tightly.

“You know I would never do any of those things, right?” He looks down at you with such warmth in his eyes, you can’t help but fold even further into him, your head on his bare chest.

“...I know,” you whisper, body still tense from talking about your ex. Jin traces shapes onto your back, helping you slow your breathing and relax.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, Jin’s voice vibrates through his chest beneath you.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend is The Ice Cold Killer…” His own statement amuses him so much, his squeaky windshield wiper laugh makes an appearance.

“Hey! Who said anything about me being your girlfriend?” You prop yourself up enough to look him in the eyes.

“Oh please, if you thought after tonight I wouldn’t try to take you off the market, you are sorely mistaken...you’re perfect, pretty lady.” He smiles at you, faltering once he sees you raise your eyebrows at him.

“...only if you want to be my girlfriend, of course,” he adds softly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect,” you state simply, lowering yourself back down onto his chest. Namjoon had made sure you knew that much.

“You’re perfect to me.” Jin leans down to place a tender kiss on top of your head.

You look back up at him. “You know you’re going to have to be one of my henchmen now, right? The Ice Cold Killer can’t do everything on her own.”

“Oh, I know. I plan on starting henchman duties in the morning when I make us pancakes, love.” Jin smiles softly down at you as you attempt to snuggle even closer.

It’s only the second date...but Jin feels like home. Maybe you’ll survive this relationship after all.