#And it takes him YEARS to recover she is by his side the entire time

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hey, I read your last Five fics which I absolutely loved and I was wondering if I could request a (Five x Reader) or (Five x OC) in which Five betrays the MC with Lila in the subway and when they come back MC leaves him and meets someone else who she falls deeply in love with (probably married her new partner and even has children) and years later Five finds her and he tries to fix everything because he realized that whatever happened with Lila was not real love and then he witnesses MC with her new family and realizes that it could’ve been him if only he would’ve treasured her love and stayed loyal to her?

I just love angst with a happy ending for the person who was betrayed and a miserable life for the traitor.

a/n: i’m inclined to agree, bad people deserve to get what’s coming to them!! i know everyone really wanted a pt. 2 to the cheating!Five fic and that’s what this turned into so… hope you enjoy!❤️

summary: you’ve moved on, five’s still recovering from the life that could’ve been

warnings: cheating

word count: 2.2k

tags: @snixx2088

pt. 1

Five checked the address in his notepad for the hundredth time since he’d left his apartment. He looked back up at the house with its neat entryway and wide, glorious front garden. There were cream roses spiralling around the white picket fences and he wondered if you were the one who’d painted them. You'd always had a knack for fixing things up and making them shine better than they had without you, himself included. Your entire house, no, home, was beautiful - but what else did he expect? It was yours, after all.

He took a deep breath, wringing out his hands that were already sweating profusely. He hadn’t felt nerves like these in years. It had been so long since you’d last seen him and your life looked so perfect and picturesque without him in it that he felt selfish for dirtying your lawn with his presence.

Things had been difficult during the split, you couldn’t even hold his eye or be alone in the same room as him after the events of Christmas Eve. But even after everything, you’d still been straight with him, and civil too, when you told him that you were going to stay somewhere else for a while. You'd needed some time before the two of you could be close again and, of course, he’d agreed. To tell the truth, at the time he hadn’t even minded. He had Lila then. Why was there any need for you to stay around?

But after a while, she had left too. For Lila, their seven years together really only had been a fling, a spur of the moment. She went back to her husband, her family. And Diego, being softer than you were, let her, no matter what she’d done or how badly she’d hurt him. The two of them had pushed forward and eventually they’d made it to the other side. They weren’t the same couple as they had been, but they were doing better, and for them that was enough.

After that, Five had grown bitter towards you and the way you’d reacted. Why couldn’t you see things the way Diego had? Why hadn’t you taken him back and reassured him that you would fix it all, like his brother had done for Lila? That was how things were supposed to go.

He was angry at Lila for a while too, for choosing her family over the future he wanted with her. He hadn't understood how their affair was formed by circumstance, not love. He knew better now.

Looking back, a small part of him actually respected you more for turning him away. It was strong of you to choose yourself for once and he was proud of how you’d pushed through, even when he had begged and pleaded for you to take him back. 

He wouldn’t do that today, he promised himself, as he marched on and up the steps of your front porch. He brushed his hair out of his face and then he reached up, knocking on the door. He heard the soft thump of feet on the hardwood floors draw closer.

The door opened and there you stood, smiling, “Hi!” You paused as you registered who it was that stood in front of you. Shocked, you said, “Oh! You are not the mail.”

Five laughed softly, shaking his head, “Uh… I am not, no.” He silently looked over you, taking in the ways you’d changed since he last saw you. Your hair was slightly longer than it used to be, but it looked good, suited you. As did the outfit you were wearing. He didn't dare to say that out loud though.

“I… Hi, Five. What can I do for you?” You asked, stepping out onto the porch and gently closing the door behind you. He’d missed your soft-spoken voice and hearing it made a dreamy smile form on his face.

“I wanted to check on you, see how you’ve been.” He gestured to your front door, “May I…?”

You hesitated for a moment but then you sighed, nodding and smiling weakly, “Yeah, of course. Come on in.” You say, opening the door again and leading him inside. You’re walking three strides ahead of him as you ask, “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“Uh, yeah. Coffee would be great, actually.” He says, blinking up at you in slight surprise as he steps into your home. He was expecting more resistance. The interior of your home is just as nice as the outside. It’s warm and so clearly full of the love that you’ve put into it. His eyes are drawn to the pictures on the shelf in the walkway.

There are a few of you with his siblings. He’s not surprised about that. In the wake of your divorce, it was you that they’d sided with and, even now, they were still treading lightly around Lila and him at family functions. What does surprise him are the two children that Klaus has his arms wrapped around in the family portrait at some celebration or other. They feature in several photos, dressed in pretty dresses and sporting toothy grins in almost every one.

Before he can overthink it, your voice is calling out to him, “Five?” You poke your head out of the kitchen door and he smiles resignedly. He stands up and follows you into the kitchen. He sits on one of the stools at the island.

The only sound comes from you, pouring out his coffee. You fetch yourself a water and then slide his mug towards him. He smiles gently, taking the warm beverage into his hands, “Thank you, love.”

Leaning on the counter, opposite him, your head snaps up to look at him as you laugh nervously. Catching his mistake, Five shakes his head, laughing a little himself, “Sorry. I guess it's still a force of habit.”

“It’s fine.” You say with a small smile, sipping from your own glass. The silence becomes comfortable. There was something familiar about this routine, enjoying the quiet company of one another and it settles any nerves left in Five.

Steadying his breath, his eyes search the kitchen for answers of what your life has looked like these last few years. More than a few times, he’d asked his siblings and they’d given little or sometimes even nothing to work with. He wished he still knew your ins and outs like he used to.

He finds his answers hanging up in a frame on the far wall. It’s a nice photo of you, your happiness shines out of it and watches over the room. There’s someone else in it too. Five doesn’t recognise him but by the placement of his hands, he knows what he must mean to you.

Five clears his throat, pointing to the photo with his mug, “Who’s the guy?”

You look up and feel your cheeks flame as you find the photo you had taken on your last vacation, “He’s my partner.” You say and your smile is shy as you talk about him. One mention of this guy and you’re already indescribably smile-y.

It makes Five’s stomach churn when you say, “We’ve been together for nearly five years now.”

“Oh, wow…” He says, eyebrows raising. He’s trying and failing miserably to mask his surprise and pain. It’s not as if he expected you to come running back into his arms with some crazy love confession or anything, but he didn’t think you’d have moved on either.

What hurts the most is how happy you look to be talking about your new partner, your eyes lit up with affection that used to be reserved for him, “That’s… that’s amazing, congratulations.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you set your glass down, “Thank you.”

“And the kids in those photos in the hallway…?” Five says, glancing over his shoulder as if they’ll come barreling in at any second. He’s not sure he could face two girls with eyes just like yours staring back at him.

You nod, “They’re mine, yeah. They’re three. At pre-school right now, but, you know…” You answer, shrugging and smiling at the thought of your twin little girls.

After your time at The Commission, you’d been terrified of the mother you'd be. Some days it still felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to turn into a cruel, awful person. But, you hadn't so far and your partner was always there to soothe you when those thoughts started to creep up on you.

You were still learning that it was okay to be a mother and have had your own life before that as an assassin. Being a good killer didn’t stop you from being a good mother and you were more than capable of giving your girls the love they deserved. Everything you did was for the good of them and you were doing an amazing job at giving them a happy and completely normal life.

“Jesus, wow…” Five laughs to himself, running a hand over his face as he looks back at you. He’s speechless, hearing about the wonderful life that you’ve built yourself. He feels a deep-rooted guilt spring up in him. He never gave you that life but it was plain to see how much you craved it and how you were thriving in it.

He’d spent so long saying that maybe, one day, in between all of the chaos of your lives, you’d find time for a quiet life like this. He’d spent every waking moment pushing the future and its commitments as far away as he could, arguing that all he wanted was to focus on you whilst he had you in his arms. But he had never given you what you wanted and now you’d found it with someone else.

Swallowing down the ache in his chest, he pulled his mug closer to himself, seeking out the warmth of it on his palms to ground him, “You look really happy.”

“I am, I really am.” You say, smiling softly at him. You were happy that Five had come here today, that you could get some true closure on your time together, it felt like a lifetime ago now. Sunlight poured into the kitchen and your bracelet shimmered under its rays, a dazzling silver.

A strained smile makes its way onto Five’s face at the sight of it, yet another symbol of the fact that didn’t belong to him anymore. It hurt to admit it but silver suited you far better than gold ever did, and he’s sure that there’s a metaphor somewhere in there but he wasn't ready to face the truth behind it yet.

You take another sip of water and there’s a peaceful silence that falls over the room that gives you both the chance to absorb everything that’s passed between you in the last two decades. You look over his features and tilt your head to the side, “What about you, though? How’re you doing?”

Five could answer with what he’s really thinking - that he’s sorry for putting your dreams on the back-burner and that he didn't treasure you the way should've the first time around. He wants to tell you that if you go with him right now and give it all up that he can be the one to provide for you instead and he wants to tell you that he would be so much better than your new partner ever could - but he won’t, he promised he wouldn't.

Instead, he smiles weakly, shrugging his shoulders as he sits up, “I’m doing okay.”

You’ve said it yourself, you’re happy as you are and, unlike him, you're not hung up on the 'what ifs' and the 'could've beens'. You don't need him anymore and he's not selfish enough to risk ruining your happiness just to make some pathetic promise that you both know he won't keep.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad.” You smile and the genuinity in your voice is the real kicker. You’re such a good person that you still care enough to want to know that he’s alright after everything, when he's still weighing up whether he should ruin your relationship or not.

He can’t help but question if he ever deserved you in the first place.

There’s a knock at the door and the both of you jump slightly. You laugh, “That must be the mail.” You set your glass down, padding out of the room.

He chuckles to himself, nodding, “Looks like it.” He mutters, finishing the dregs of his coffee and places the mug down on the counter as he stands up. He has to get out before he ruins your life all over again with words that you don't want to hear.

Walking back into the room with two boxes on your hip, you watch as he picks up his coat, “Oh! Please, don’t feel rushed, you don’t have to leave yet. I don’t have to go get the girls for another few hours.”

Five shakes his head, “No, it's alright. I’ll get out of your hair.” He says, walking into the hallway, “Thank you, by the way, for the coffee.”

“Of course, you’re welcome.” You say, following behind him as he walks out of the door.

He hovers on the porch and you smile kindly at him, “Just... please, don’t be a stranger, Five.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to."

[earth4angels]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

modern!jacaerys x f!reader

── semi angst? jacaerys is super in love, gets teased about it! one sided?? has an open ending, open for interpretation, not edited.

summary: over the course of an year, he watches her from afar, admiring the small details, falling in love with a stranger that does not know he exists. and as the final year of school almost at its end, he questions whether he wasted time or if it’s the perfect time to recover lost time.

a/n: short drabble and very rushed bc i just needed to post this before my idea died, and it’s a little sad with some fluff sorry jace nation, listen to beautiful stranger by laufey

jace tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @ilovequeen978 @melsunshine

The wind blew through his face hard enough for his long trences of hair to fall into his mouth and his eyes. He sighed irritably, his hands pushing his hair back while he took the strands that ended in his mouth away.

He checked his watch, biting his lip when he realized he was running late to school - his mother would surely kill him if she found out. He always rejected their personal driver to take him to school as he did not like bragging about his status so he relied on public transportation to blend in with his classmates.

He never whined about it either, he loved the scenery, but most especially he loved to watch you.

You were beautiful, your hair always styled in bows, clips, your ears were always covered by your headphones blocking the noise of the outside as he would always see you reading. He studied every single detail of yours, the slight crinkle of your eyes when you read something interesting, the way you constantly licked your lips as your eyes darted through the pages of your book. He saw you always with pens as you highlighted or wrote in your journal pieces he would figure grabbed your attention.

Jacaerys admired you from afar, and often found himself dreaming about you when the day ended.

“I don’t know why you haven’t talked to her. You’re Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of your family’s business after your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan nudged him as the said heir only shook his head, his curls bouncing, he looked away to the window to watch you cross the street, your long hair blowing delicately against the wind.

“It’s not like it matters, school ends in two weeks. We will all graduate, and I will be moving miles away to attend law school. It wouldn’t work,” Jace muttered, his hands rubbing against each other, a nervous tic of his.

Cregan groaned childishly, “You depress me Velaryon. The gods made you with such looks you could pull anyone and you’re wasting it on a complete stranger? Someone you haven’t even made moves on for an entire year?!”

Jace glared at him before muttering again, “A year and a half… actually.”

“Seven hells mate. You have gone absolutely mad,” Cregan shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his idiotic lovesick best friend who hung his head.

Jacaerys did want to speak to you, maybe he could’ve asked what book you read or make a random question about what train stop took him to the academy. He didn’t know, but maybe he just could’ve just said something to get you to look at him. Time was clicking and he didn’t know how much longer he should wait.

He saw you enter the train again, this time a fluffy hat sat on your head, your cheeks a rosy pink from the wind outside, in your hands held a book. He smiled knowing you were going to spend another ride with your nose deep in the pages. You were so delicate with every move you made, and he felt like you lit the entire room with your presence.

He already knew your routine for how much he had seen you, but this time it was different. You turned your head looking around finding him sitting by the window, your eyes met his fiery brown ones. It was then he felt like he was going to faint, his heart beating rapidly - you smiled.

You smiled and he felt like the world vanished, leaving him breathless. It was only you, a ray of light caressing your shoulders illuminating you like a goddess. It was his chance… this was the chance he could’ve said anything. Yet he did something so idiotic that he went home that day slamming his head into the pillow cursing himself for being so stupid.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red. He did not smile or said anything but rather fixated on the blurs of the streets that passed by.

As the last week of school came, and his friends teased him about a crush on the beautiful stranger he was infuriated with - he found himself sitting the train ride again.

The familiar stop came, and he listened to the doors slide open, his hands shaking from the nervousness. The seat next to him suddenly became occupied, he did not look thinking it was a stranger that sat next to him.

A soft chuckle was heard and it made his heart flutter crazily, he peeked beside him slowly finding the beautiful stranger next to him.

You smiled at him, for you were waiting for him to speak first.

You did notice him a lot, and you knew about him, the famous Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of the famous businesswoman Rhaenyra Targaryen.

You saw him in every train ride, but you also saw him on campus, laughing with his friends, often throwing a football as he played during lunch breaks. He was popular, maybe for his name or his money, but he walked around campus with such grace - his aura leaving many boys with envy and girls wanting him.

Your smile never left your lips as he stared at you in disbelief that you actually sat next to him.

From up close, you were much more beautiful, your scent overwhelming him as you smelled like he thought you would, a mix of floral and vanilla, you smelled like home.

Graduation was two days away. And he was set to leave the week after to start summer camp.

Perhaps, it was too late to start anything but his chance came to finally hear your voice, to at least know your name, the girl, the beautiful stranger that made his dreams sweet and made him smile when he sat to think of you.

Jace finally smiled back, and his soft voice made your insides warm, “Hello.”

[revehae]

Could you do something from dream 00line + mark bullying, dub con and non con? 🥺

well… this is basically what you asked! i changed it up just a little bit tw // noncon, forced oral (m receiving), gangbang

“come on,” jeno groaned playfully, grip on your hair tightening. “that’s not how you used to do it.”

you whimpered weakly, the muffled sound sending a tiny tremble through jeno’s cock as he kept your warm mouth around him in spite of your protests. not that you could expect anything less from him. he was never afraid of forcing you into something you never wanted. 

jeno had never seemed afraid of anything, now that you thought about it. you still remembered the risky exploits they made you tag along on. how could you not? it was only some years ago, back when they would force you to please them in the boys’ locker room. 

haechan laughed, both at jeno’s encouragement and the miserable look on your face. he always did like seeing you suffer. “you want her to gag on your dick like a virgin?”

jeno shrugged. “call it nostalgia.”

“guys, come on,” mark said, as if he was trying to put a stop to this. but you knew better. time after time of being disappointed, getting your hopes up thinking he would make them leave you alone, you learned years ago that mark was hardly any different. “aren’t we a little too old for this now?”

haechan rolled his eyes in annoyance. “jesus christ,” he sighed. “will you ever get off your moral high horse?”

“he can do whatever he wants. he can leave, if that’s what makes him happier,” jeno said, in spite of knowing mark wouldn’t go, the same way you did. he yanked your hair harder, forcing your mouth further down onto his cock until you were damn near suffocating. “i’m not stopping until she gags.”

jaemin laughed out of nowhere, having been quietly watching the entire situation unfold. “maybe she’s had practice since then, jeno.”

“you mean, our little slut has been whoring herself out to other guys?” haechan chimed in, snickering. the thought amused him. no guys used to ever come near you, like you were the most unfuckable thing in the world. you were obscure and unnoticed. 

jeno felt you pushing at his thighs like you used to do when you desperately needed to come up for air. “in that case, what’s the fucking problem? why are you being so difficult?”

your eyes winced closed when jeno slapped your cheek, the burn of his palm sizzling on the side of your face as you jolted back. your eyes watered, and before you could bother to recover, jeno was forcing his cock back inside your throat, thrusting his hips. 

that was when you finally and inadvertently gave him what he wanted, gagging around his cock and scraping at his thighs for mercy that he wouldn’t give you, keeping your mouth on him by your hair. 

“that’s it, babe,” jeno told you, looking down at you with a blend of scorn and amusement. “choke on it just like that.”

mark shook his head in disapproval, arms crossed. “jeno, dude. you’re gonna hurt the poor girl.”

jaemin crouched down beside you when jeno pulled out of your sore throat, having finally gotten what he wanted. “don’t be such a prude, mark. she can take it,” jaemin replied, looking at you almost dotingly. he pressed two of his fingers into the corners of your lips and forced them into a smile. “isn’t that right, baby?”

you shook your head, backing away from them until you crashed backwards into the side of the hotel mattress. when you started to crawl towards the door, haechan kicked your ass with his shoe, making you slump onto the floor for all of two seconds before you scurried onto your feet.

and nearly tripping over them, you made a beeline for the door. the same door mark was near, as if he was toying with the idea of turning around and heading out too. but rather than let you go, he gripped your arm. 

your eyes were stinging. you glanced up at him desperately, hoping that maybe he would show some remorse. “please. you said you were sorry. you promised.”

it’s not right, mark told himself, swallowing as he looked at the fear in your stare. after graduating, he told himself that he would be a better man and not a stupid boy.

and that was why on the last day of school, he took it upon himself to apologize for everything the four of them had done to you that senior year. he promised that he never meant for things to go so far, that he meant every word of what he told you, that he regretted everything he had done to hurt you. 

and even now mark wanted to make them stop, he really did. but that desire was outweighed by the one to feel you again, to lose himself in the heat of you as his thrusts became more and more restless. 

and a moment or three later, that was exactly what he was doing, all the while holding your smaller body down as his eyes fluttered closed, hypnotized by the sweet squeeze of your vice-like cunt. he became increasingly feverish with every passing second, unable to hear the thoughts that told him to be gentle. 

jaemin nudged haechan playfully. “you know, this is exactly how i remember it.”

“ah,” haechan replied with a pleasant sigh, a little smile on his lips as he watched mark fuck you mindlessly. “some things never change.”

[juniperskye]

Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

[hairmetal666]

What if, after Vecna is defeated, Eddie lives and is recovering in the hospital and one day he's just gone. Like, Steve and the kids come to visit and his hospital room doesn't even exist anymore. It's just a blank stretch of wall. The nurses, nurses they know worked with Eddie, say they've never heard of Eddie Munson and there's never been a room where the kids insist there was the day before. Anyone else they ask says they've never heard the name, even though it was only weeks ago that the entire town formed a mob to hunt him down. Hopper and Murray look into it and there's no record of an Edward Munson in any database anywhere. His previous arrests are gone, his fingerprints, record of Wayne becoming his legal guardian, his social security number, his birth certificate. Even his Uncle Wayne, gone without a trace. Like neither man ever existed.

They search for years, always hoping for word, or a return, or anything. But Eddie was there one day and gone the next. Apparently forever.

They mourn, all of them. He was part of the group, part of the family, and then he was gone with no fanfare or goodbye. Then he was gone and every force in the world pretended like he'd never been there in the first place.

Steve, quietly, takes it hard. He spends weeks crying himself to sleep, clutching the ruined battle vest to his chest. It's just unfair, is all, Steve thinks. '86 was supposed to be Eddie's year.

Time passes and they all grow up, all move away from Hawkins. Steve and Robin move to Indy; she starts college and Steve gets a job at a little bakery because he's a regular already and they're hiring.

He loves baking, finds it calming in a way very few things are for him anymore. After a few good years, the store becomes his, and he didn't know he could be this happy or satisfied with his life, after everything.

He never stops thinking of Eddie.

Close to Steve's 30th birthday, a little bookstore opens up in the vacant building across the way. Steve sees the owner sometimes, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, pale skin, the occasional hint of black ink under his dark clothes. Beautiful. They wave at each other almost every morning and Steve ignores the reminders of Eddie. They're commonplace now. Any man with long dark hair, tattoos, and black clothing stirs a spark of recognition in Steve's gut, and the disappointment still hurts even after a decade.

Weeks pass and Steve notices a new display in the window of the bookstore; those dnd guides all the boys have, the dice with too many sides, the little plastic figures and pots of paints and delicate brushes. He vows, the next time the kids are in town, they'll go over and he'll finally introduce himself to that probably nice man whose only sin was a slight resemblance to a boy from Steve's past.

The kids come for a visit only a few weeks later, and are just as enthusiastic about going to the bookstore as he is to take them. He has them help bake his secret-recipe sugar cookies, decorate them in a dnd theme (Erica and Max say they're dorky, and he agrees, despite being pleased with the results).

Steve heads to the bookstore first, to warn the guy about the veritable horde of feral young adults about to descend on his quiet store.

He walks in to the sound of a gently ringing bell and Metallica playing at low volume on the store's speakers. Steve has to ignore it or he'll walk out.

"Be right with you," a muffled voice calls out.

"Take your time," he responds. He browses with the container of cookies in his arms, taking in all the dnd stuff, the signs about dnd club meetings, the stacks of new release books and a couple cds.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a soft, husky voice says back at the front of the store. It breaks Steve out in goosebumps.

"Don't worry about it. I'm from the bakery across the street, wanted to finally introduce myself. I brought goodies," he adds, sort of blushing.

He steps back up to the cash register, eyes finally settling on the owner he's only seen from afar and all the breath leaves his body. It leaves him lightheaded, dizzy.

Eddie Munson. Eddie. Munson. Stands behind the counter, hair in a bun with messy tendrils around his face. He looks the exact same. Maybe a few more lines around his mouth and eyes. But the same.

"Ed--Eddie?" Steve's voice croaks out. He barely manages to drop the cookies onto the counter and not the floor.

Eddie's deep brown eyes flood with tears, a hand--every finger with a ring--covers his mouth. "Steve," the other man sobs.

There's no hesitation as Steve flings himself into Eddie's arms, the other man catching him and holding him tight.

Eddie squeezes him, crying against Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.

"I can't believe you're real," Steve murmurs between soft sobs, pressing his face against Eddie's neck.

"I'm real. I'm here," Eddie agrees. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

Steve pulls out of the embrace a little, just to look at Eddie's face. To see after all these years. He presses trembling fingers against the line of Eddie's jaw, and the other man leans into the touch, lets Steve trace the contours of his cheeks, his mouth.

"You're here," Steve agrees.

Their eyes lock, drink each other in, ten years of longing dancing at the knobs of Steve's spine.

"They took me away," Eddie says, deep brown of his eyes serious and pleading. "The government. They snuck me out in the middle of the night and forced me and Wayne to adopt new identities, sent us to New Mexico. Monitored us so I couldn't contact any of you. It killed me, Stevie. To be away from you. From Robin. The kids."

That snaps Steve out of his daze. "Oh, shit. The kids."

It's too late, though. The bell at the door jingles, the usual cacophony that accompanies the seven of them filling the little store in an instant.

Dustin's voice rings out, above the others, "this store is so fucking cool."

"Language," Eddie scolds on auto-pilot. When he realizes what he said and why, his eyes wash with new tears.

The kids turn, as one, to the man they never thought they'd see again.

Steve's fingers dance down Eddie's arm, finding his hand, twining their fingers together. Eddie tightens his grip. Steve's never letting go of this man ever again, and he knows with some deep, element certainty that Eddie feels the same.

"Eddie?" Dustin exclaims.

"Hiya, kid." Eddie smiles a little, ducks his head.

"What the fuck," Max says.

"Anyone have time for a story?" Eddie asks. He dashes away the few tears that track down his cheeks.

"We have all the time in the world," Steve agrees. Doesn't think before he lifts Eddie's hand and presses a kiss just below his knuckles.

[arc-misadventures]

The High Elf’s Tale

Lady Willow Schnee…

She was a high elf that had lived to be nigh on a thousand year. She was a mother of three wonderful children, two girls, and a boy. And, she was unfortunate married to a repulsive, slime ball of a high elf.

It was a forced marriage her parents put her through; something about keeping the bloodline pure. They said this as if it was something sacred, and special to uphold in high regard. Yet keeping the bloodline pure often lead to a unsanitary deal of inbreeding, and the various noble bloodlines of the human nations had taught anyone who had eyes to see the vile, and various consequences of inbreeding.

Luckily for, Willow this animated corpse was only her second cousin. Though the thought of having married that decrepit spawn of goblin dung never sat well with her.

To escape her ‘loving’ husband, Willow eventually fell into drinking: Elvin Wine, Dwarf Ale, Faunkin Brandy, even the feeble excuse of alcohol that was, Human Beer. For nearly a hundred years she drunk herself into a stupor. If it wasn’t for her daughter’s, she dare say she’d still be a drunkard.

After recovering from her addiction of the bottle, she escape that sentient trash heap of a living being, and became a scholar at the kingdom’s national library, one of the largest repository of knowledge in the know world.

Willow spent her time there delving into ancient knowledge, magic, and history of the world. Nearly two hundred years had passed since she had arrived there, and she had swiftly became a premier scholar, having read the majority of the library’s vast collection of tomes, history books, fine literature, and grimoires. And, thus becoming a wizard of great renown throughout the kingdom.

Willow had thought she would live a peaceful life studying her books for the rest of her life. But, all of that changed on the day that during her studies she stumbled upon the most curious sight: A human knight scoping about the library.

A curious sight to behold; human scholars were a rare, but not uncommon sight to be seen perusing about the vast elven libraries. But, a human knight in their library was something else entirely. So, she grew curious, Willow said she had developed an inquisitive side to her, no doubt due to all the books she read. So, with her curiosity peaked she decided to say hello to this human knight, and ask him why he was here.

Little did, Willow know that simply saying hello to this human lead her down a rabbit hole that seemingly had no end.

Who would believe that just by saying hello to a human knight named, Jaune Arc would result in her assisting him in his quest to slay a dragon, and to battling hordes of bandits, slavers, and all other of vile barbarians just to back a dragon-stone to her kingdom.

Nor, would it have lead them to discovering a vile, and treacherous secret plot being made by her, bastard son of a whore husband’s to overthrow the reigning monarchy in an attempt to take over the kingdom.

Who could have foreseen her shit flinger of a husband was merely being used by a cult that has used the dragon-stone they had acquired for an vile arcane ritual that was being used to summon a, Demon-Lord in an attempt to destroy the kingdom.

Willow, would never had thought she would wind up in a book in the very same library she stood over of as a member in a tale of hero’s who would fight along side, the Knight of the Rusted Order, Jaune Arc, and his companions to slay a, Demon-Lord, and save the entire kingdom.

Willow would have never had expected that after all the travels, and adventures that she would wake up in the arms of this young knight after the victory celebrations. And, considering how loveless her marriage was, and dull, and repulsive the times they spent in bed together, she could have never foreseen how enjoyable, and overwhelming pleasurable it was to sleep with a man she genuinely loved.

In all of, Willow’s life she had never expected to fall in love with a man, a human no less. Let alone marry a human knight that was a thousandth her age, and least of all bear several wonderful, beautiful children with him.

But, that just how life goes; unpredictable, but unforgettable, and wonderful nonetheless.

[blindmagdalena]

'Neath the Mistletoe

1k homelander x gn!reader. pure christmas fluff. 🎄inspired by anon. thank you!

When you and Homelander make the decision to go public with your relationship, Vought seizes the opportunity to capitalize on the announcement with a seasonal photoshoot.

There is nothing more quintessentially Christmas than kissing your beloved under the mistletoe. Naturally, Homelander has been anticipating it since the first whispers of the season began to carry on the air.

However, this was not at all how he’d imagined it would happen. He’s been in front of the cameras his entire life, he’s used to it, but you aren’t. You’re tense in his arms, gaze flickering out to the crew, paying more attention to how you’re presenting in front of the camera than you are to him.

It’s hardly the romantic venture he dreamt of.

“Hey,” he whispers, bringing your eyes back to him. You look like a deer in the headlights. He probably looked the same way during his first real photoshoot. Still, he tries to calm you by assuring you, “You’re doing great.”

“How many of these are we going to have to do?” You ask quietly, your tension creeping into your voice.

He frowns. He knows you’re nervous, but it really squeezes out any romance lingering in the moment to think you’re dreading how many more times you’re going to have to kiss each other. If it were just the two of you, it wouldn’t matter. He’d kiss you a dozen times for each mistletoe he saw. A hundred times. He’s got years and years spent without you to make up for.

Huh. Now there’s a thought.

“Hey, let’s take five,” he calls to the crew. Immediately, he feels you relax against him.

“Thank you,” you sigh, squeezing his forearms. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to complain–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he soothes, already fixated on his brewing plot. He leans in to kiss your forehead and gives your hips a pat. “Lemme go get you some water, ‘kay? We’ll bang out the rest of these photos, and then we can get to bangin’ out in private,” he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laugh, giving him a playful little push, and he seizes the opportunity to split off and not only grab you a water bottle, but to pull Ashley aside for a quick word, whispering it in her ear.

Ashley’s eyes widen. She pulls back sharply to stare incredulously at him. “By the end of the shoot?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, smiling. “And wipe that fuckin’ look off your face before you’re seen,” he says, giving her arm an unfriendly pat that jostles her slightly. She immediately schools her expression, glancing at you. Luckily, you’re busy briefly dissociating while you recover from the flash of cameras and the bustle of the crew and makeup department.

“Right… Yes, sir,” she says, frantically pulling out her phone the second his back is turned.

Homelander returns to you with a crisp bottle of water and kisses your cheek reassuringly. “Almost done,” he promises you, rubbing your back. “And then I’ve got a treat for you back at my place.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously as you drink. “Is it something to do with ‘bangin’ out’?”

“More like rockin’ around,” he says, breaking into a cheeky grin while the two of you move back into position.

Just shy of an hour later, the shoot has finally wrapped up–no thanks to Ashley’s thinly veiled stalling–and Homelander is eagerly guiding you back to his penthouse, your hand held firmly in his. Pausing at the door, he peers through it, ensuring everything looks right before he opens it.

Glancing down at you, he steps to the side as he swings the door open, gesturing you inside. “After you.”

That way, he has the perfect vantage to admire your shock as you’re blindsided by the sight of dozens upon dozens upon dozens of sprigs of mistletoe hanging from every doorway, light fixture and arch in his entire penthouse.

“Did you somehow not get enough kisses on set?” You ask playfully, reaching up to bat lightly at one of the hanging mistletoe. They’ve all been secured in place with some kind of clear tacky little bits of paste.

“Not familiar with this concept of ‘enough kisses,’ “ he says, miming quotation marks before dropping his hands to his hips, admiring the work he put into demanding this be done. They did a decent job, all things considered.

You turn around to face him, beaming as brightly as any shining star.

God, you look… beautiful. Backlit by the glittering Christmas lights decorating his penthouse–the cast of them warm on your skin–you give him a melancholic sense of nostalgia for something he’s yearned for his entire life, but never known. You look cut straight out of every Hallmark moment he’s ever dreamed of. You look the way Christmas does in the movies. You look like home.

He can’t stop himself from kissing you, your face cradled delicately in the warm, soft leather of his gloves. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, slipping his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. He leans into you the way he wanted to throughout the entirety of that goddamn photoshoot, taking so much more now than those chaste little kisses. They had only served to whet his appetite for you.

You sigh against his lips in a way that drives him insane with hunger, pushing your hands into his perfectly styled hair, thoroughly mussing it. He pushes further into you, forces your back to bow until he’s snaking his arm around your waist and becoming the only thing holding you up as he dips you in this fervent, aching kiss.

When he does finally relent and draw back, you suck in a breath, your cheeks flushed warmly, your eyes bright and glimmering in the twinkling lights that surround you both.

“God,” you exhale, licking your lips. “Now that was a kiss under the mistletoe.”

Homelander glances up at the mistletoe dangling above you, and then back down. His smile is equal parts warm and wicked. “One of many to come.”

“I don’t think my lips are going to survive it,” you say, but your eyes betray your excitement.

“Don’t worry,” he purrs. You give a giddy little yelp as he effortlessly lifts you up into his arms, settling you against his chest. He kisses you again and again, one for each mistletoe you pass on the way to his bedroom.  “These lips aren't the only part of you getting thoroughly kissed tonight.”

He made sure there was extra mistletoe above the bed.

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. ��I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

If Steve behaves during workouts over the next few days, he can’t be blamed. He’s trying to prove to his coaches and the team’s medical staff that he’s not rushing a return to the ice, but that he’s ready to lace up and get back out there. He bargains his way out of the full plastic face protection mask, opting for a full cage instead. By Sunday, he’s participating in the last full team practice before they pack up to leave Chicago, keeping up with his teammates despite how much he felt he’d been struggling just days earlier.

“You holding up?” Max asks, loudly, as he skates past where a few of the team doctors are sitting, observing and chatting.

“I’m fine,” He answers, and takes a shot, scoring past their goalie who had belly-flopped in the opposite direction of the puck. 

A few of his teammates ‘whoop’, while the goalie slams his stick against the ice, shoving a glove off his hand to flip Steve off, before getting back to work. 

Steve just snorts and skates back toward Max, holding his arms out. “Would you like to do a formal exam? I promise I’m good. I feel good.” He swears, winking at the redhead, scrunching up the side of his face still recovering, immediately wincing. She rolls her eyes and he laughs softly at himself. “Okay, that didn’t feel good, but that’s just because I’m dumb.”

“Not dumb!” She chastises, pointing at him, and the look on her face tells him he’s about to get a scheduled lecture from the entire Party about how he talks about himself again, so he opts to skate away instead, avoiding digging a hole for himself he can’t get out of.

It’s suspiciously quiet and seemingly empty at the apartment that afternoon until Steve ultimately finds Robin lying across his bed. His clothes are scattered everywhere around her. She shoots him a sheepish smile when he drops his bag beside her and raises an eyebrow.

“I was hoping to figure out a few outfits for you to take and look hot for your date with Eddie, but then I realized I have no idea how to dress you to impress a man.” She says, flopping back into the pillows.

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that was supposed to be an insult, but, ya know…” He trails off and laughs as Robin tosses a pillow in his direction.

“You know what I mean!”

“I do,” Steve laughs, catching the pillow and sitting beside Robin, picking at the seam of the pillowcase. “If it’s any consolation, I also have no idea how to dress me to impress guys. But I also don’t think impressing Eddie is going to have anything to do with what I wear. At least I hope it won’t.”

Robin makes a gagging noise, but it’s around a little smile, and Steve rolls his eyes before laying beside her, shoving a few tops out of his way. She waits until he’s not looking at her to speak again, both of them looking at the ceiling over his bed. “I just really want this to work for you. You deserve to be happy.” 

“I am happy, Robbie. I promise.” Steve’s softer, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he honestly means it. Robin turns her head to look at him for a second before she wiggles closer to him and rests her head against his shoulder.

“You’re going to have to actually ask him out on a date, though, you know.” She says after a few beats, which makes him laugh.

“Not if he beats me to it,” He teases, pressing a little kiss to Robin’s temple. “But yeah, I know. I think I’m getting there.”

They lay like that for a few more minutes before Robin eventually shoves herself away from him, demanding he shower before they cuddle anymore. When Steve reenters his bedroom after a hot shower, he finds Robin has paired several tops to pants and folded them together, giving him options for outfits.

“I am humanly capable of dressing myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly 30 years now, you know.” He teases, and she rolls her eyes as he towel dries his hair. He drops the towel into his hamper and tips his head, makes an impressed face. “I wouldn’t have thought to put those pants with that top though, and I think it might just work.” He adds, lifting one of the pairings Robin has come up with and setting it into his travel bag. Robin grins and holds a finger up for him to wait, dashes out of the room, and returns a few moments later with a gray cardigan. “One step too far.” He teases, taking it from her hands and eyeing it skeptically.

“Just trust me on this? You look cuddly when you’re cozy.” She insists, so he sighs and packs it away despite his reservations.

Robin haphazardly throws a few pair of underwear, three tops and a single pair of jeans into a backpack and declares she’s ready to make the trip. 

It’s an early call at the airport on Monday, and Steve’s mostly still asleep as Robin slips into the window seat, pulling him along with her. He uses her shoulder, in combination with a neck pillow, as a headrest to sleep the flight away and he wakes up to his ears popping on the dissent, feeling a little more rested.

The players travel from the airport to check in at the hotel, then a few make their way to do tourist-y things around the city. Steve and Robin tag along, but end up breaking off from the group a few bars in along Broadway. They settle themselves into a corner and share a fishbowl sized concoction, and Steve texts Eddie to let him know they’ve arrived safe and sound and have already hit the town.

Eddie responds to the photo of Steve and Robin sipping from straws in the same bowl with a selfie Gareth took. Eddie’s in the background, using what looks to Steve like an oversized inhaler. He’s up in an instant, making his way around the woman performing on the small stage and outside onto the street where it’s not as noisy so he can call Eddie.

“That was fast,” Eddie teases, and he sounds fine, which confuses Steve further.

“Are you okay? What’s with the inhaler?” He asks, and Eddie’s quiet for a beat.

“Oh, no, Stevie, that’s not a… it’s a nebulizer. I was laying down vocal tracks earlier and it helps keep me from losing my voice.” He explains, then quickly follows up. “Oh my god, did you call because you were worried? That’s so… god, you’re adorable, you know that?”

Steve feels himself blush, and is grateful that they’re on a voice call and not a FaceTime, because Eddie would only tease him more if he could see the shade of red he’s sure his face is. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You’re so fucking sweet, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is like butter, his charm on maximum, and Steve bites at his lip as he listens. “How long are you in town after the game?”

“Back to Chicago on Thursday for two days, then we hit a road stretch for most of next week.” Steve answers, and Eddie hums. “What’s that for?” Steve asks, genuinely curious.

“Means I’m trying to figure out if I want to hit the road, or wait until you’re back in Chicago for more than two days to make the next trip to see you.” 

Steve takes a deep breath at that, smiles, and lets out a huff of air that sounds like a light laugh. “I’m going to go back into the bar and finish this fishbowl, then we’re going back to the hotel to swim and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, after the game, okay?”

“I thought you didn’t drink before games?” Eddie asks, and Steve tries not to melt at the details the other remembers.

“I’m not taking the ice tomorrow, and I… usually just have a cut-off time. When we first met, I was worried I would say something stupid if I started drinking and end up scaring you off.” It’s more honest than he intends to be, more information than he means to share, but he doesn’t regret telling Eddie, and he isn’t embarrassed.

“I think we both know it takes more than that to scare me off, sweetheart.”

Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing at the term of endearment and he can’t tell if Eddie is freaking out or proud of himself, because he doesn’t say anything for a moment before he gives a quick goodbye and hangs up, leaving Steve standing on Broadway, looking up at the “Tootsies Orchid Lounge” sign, trying to keep himself from spiraling.

Some time must pass, then, before Robin comes out to check on him, gently lays a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Dude, you okay?”

“He, uh. He called me sweetheart.” 

“Good grief,” Robin mumbles, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I thought he broke up with you or something.”

“Kinda hard to break up with someone you aren’t dating, Robbie.” Steve shakes his head in an effort to pull himself together.

“Whatever you say,” she tugs his arm, then, leading him back into the bar where they finish their drink and head back to the hotel. 

~~~

Open mouth, insert foot. The Eddie Special. The one thing becoming a constant during his conversations with Steve.

“What did you call him?” Jeff asks around a smile after Eddie hangs up the phone, grabs the nearest throw pillow, and shoves his face into it.

“I’m pretty sure he said sweetheart.” Gareth provides in the least helpful moment he’s ever been to Eddie, confirming he had, indeed, used a fucking pet name while speaking with Steve.

“How did he take that?” Jeff is softer, no longer following the initial taunting route he seemed to be heading down, likely sensing Eddie’s unraveling.

“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.” He speaks into the pillow, muffled, before he drops it into his lap and stares blankly at the wall.

“Well, me and Jeff’ll be there tomorrow. We can try to prevent any catastrophes within our capabilities?” Gareth smacks Jeff’s leg, who nods in agreement, and Eddie sighs and throws himself back into the studio sofa.

The next day, they get to Bridgestone Arena early enough to grab snacks and not run into too many people who recognize them before filling into their suite. Eddie settles into his seat, comfortable with the temperature now that he knows how to dress for a game. 

The teams eventually make their way to the ice, and Eddie zeroes in on Steve until he skates into the Blackhawk’s box after the anthem.

This time around, Eddie manages to follow a good deal of what’s happening. He’s learned a lot about the game since his first attendance, and he finds it easier to track the puck now than it had seemed previously. He watches as the Preds make an early goal, how the Blackhawks are quick to respond by securing their own point. Watches as a play goes sideways, and a Blackhawk player ends up flipping over another player, then lays on the ice in just the right position to know something is wrong, that he’s hurt.

Play doesn’t stop for long, and when things pick back up, Steve takes the ice. Eddie snaps his fingers between Jeff and Gareth once before he’s on his feet, cheering. The boys join him, and soon, most of the Arena is giving Steve a standing ovation. Steve, though, is facing the direction of Eddie’s suite and gives a little salute before dropping into position, ready for the puck to hit the ice. 

~~~

When the backup forward goes down, Steve springs to his feet from inside the visitors box. An attempt at goal had drawn everyone near the Blackhawk’s net. A Predator had dove for the puck, and things went south fast. Watching from the sidelines was like watching in slow motion, as the med staff checked in on everyone involved and eventually carted the forward off the ice to be evaluated.

Behind him, the coaches evaluate their options as Steve checks his laces and lifts his helmet before tapping the coach's arm.

“I got this,” he promises, settling the helmet over his head and securing the cage over his face. With just a moment of hesitation, the coaches agree and Steve skates to center ice.

He bends down, waiting for the Predator’s forward to join him in their wait for the ref with the puck, but cheers erupt from one end of the arena and slowly, the noise wraps around the room. 

Steve straightens to look around, taking in who exactly was cheering. Fans in both Blackhawks gear and Predators are standing together, cheering and clapping. He glances around, confused before he notices a few of the players on both sides of the ice are also clapping toward him. That’s when it clicks, that all the noise is for him. 

He turns to where the cheering originated, zeroes in on the curly hair over a jersey with his number on the sleeves and he can’t help but grin. Steve gives a little gesture in Eddie’s direction, before skating back to the center ice with the Predator’s forward.

“Welcome back, Harrington.” The other forward says, just as the ref drops the puck and the game picked back up.

~~~

The Blackhawks don’t win the game, but it feels like the cement is drying around the memory in his mind as he showers after the game. He’d played well, even scored a goal, but the Predators manage to get a buzzer-beater in at the last minute after tying things up near the end of the third. But the cheering when he stepped back out onto the ice was an experience he’d never forget.

Eddie texts Steve the address to a brewery in East Nashville, and that’s where he and Robin head as everyone else makes their way into the city. 

Upon arrival, Robin b-lines across the parking lot for the door, but Steve spots a thin trail of smoke that catches his attention. He follows it, smiles when it turns out to be exactly who he expected. Eddie’s propped up against the side of the building, foot resting flat as his back against the wall behind him, smoking a cigarette.

“Kinda figured I’d find you at the end of the smoke trail.” Steve teased softly, catching Eddie’s attention. 

“Looks like I’ve been caught, then,” Eddie laughs, and takes a long, final drag from the cigarette before putting it out into the ash urn. He blows the smoke away from Steve, and keeps a smile on his face. “Wanna grab a drink? I had the guys order appetizers, but we can get real food, too, if you want?”

“I actually….” Steve hesitates, and Eddie raises his eyebrows. Steve considers dropping it, just agreeing to go inside and eat and have a good time with everyone. But then Eddie’s face softens into a little smile and Steve’s chest warms. “Fuck it. Do you want to grab dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

Eddie visibly blue screens. There’s no emotion on his face as he watches Steve before him for a moment, then breaks out into a grin. “You asking me on a date, Harrington?”

“I am.” Steve nods, grins back at Eddie, watches as he twists a curl around his finger and pulls it in front of his face, twisting his body so his arm is propped against the wall, facing Steve head on.

“I think I would like that, yeah.” Eddie agrees. Steve smiles, feels like something has lifted between the two of them, and holds his hand out. Eddie tangles their fingers together and lets Steve pull him into the brewery.

Robin seems suspicious as they enter, but drops her interest as they sit at the end of the table across from one another, sipping on beers and munching on nachos and mozzarella sticks, chatting about the game and the new music the band is recording. 

And if Steve manages to keep his composure when Eddie hooks an ankle around his own under the table, it’s because he’s an adult and not a high schooler tripping over his own feet to impress the guy across from him, and totally not because he knows the entire rest of the table would have a field day if he got flustered by the littlest touch.

[starcurtain]

What do you think Aventurine would be like as a boss?

Aventurine's first character story tells us that people both outside the IPC and internal to the Strategic Investment Department are explicitly racist toward him, so I would say first that I suspect Aventurine's team is much, much smaller than other Stonehearts like Topaz. For example, we constantly see Topaz's dumb "support squad" following her around in most of the events she shows up in, while we've never been introduced to a single "Aventurine support squad" member.

My suspicion is that, between the rampant racism and the undoubtedly common rumors about Aventurine's dangerous behavior, very few people are even willing to be put on his team in the first place. I suspect he's much more likely to be paired up with one or two "strategic partners" (like Ratio) and sent to handle things that way, rather than actually having a large group of underlings he directly supervises.

But just logistically speaking I'm sure he does have a few underlings, and I think... He's probably a very difficult person to work for, for a couple reasons:

He will almost certainly beat assholes to the punch. If a majority of the people who have been assigned to work with him don't want to be there, you can bet he's not going to wait around for new people to prove they are racist garbage. I imagine that, for the most part, he's off-putting and offensive to new people from the get-go. You ask which desk is yours and he just goes "Oh, feel free to set your things anywhere!" then turns around like: "Wowwww. Jim, this rookie is trying to steal the desk you've had for ten years! How inconsiderate our new friend is proving to be~!" New people on his team probably have the worst few weeks of their lives. (Because... If people are going to hate him on principle alone, he might as well give them a reason, right?) However, this has the effect of weeding out most of the people who are incapable of dealing with Aventurine's antics, so I imagine that the few who persevere through the hazing are probably genuinely decent folks. Those that make it past the initial "Let's see how much you hate Sigonians and disrespect me personally" vibe check probably end up on Aventurine's good side, and I think he eventually eases off his newbies after a while. (Not before they've proven their exceedingly high tolerance for shenanigans and even higher ceiling for shock factor, though. If a new employee makes it past the first month of working for Aventurine, literally nothing else will ever phase them. An elephant-sized Warp Trotter could warp them all six galaxies over and they'd just be like "Anyone got a working cell? I need to tell my babysitter I won't be back by 9.")

I think he's just never there. Absentee boss in the extreme. It's not that he ever slacks or doesn't do the work--it's just that he's constantly going off and doing the missions all on his own. It doesn't matter how many times the higher-ups assign him to do a team task, tell him he has to take the full squad... He just scampers off and does the deal entirely on his own, comes back covered in blood, and is like "Hey guys, I took care of the problem; enjoy some comp time on me!" I don't think he drags his average-level underlings into his dangerous gambles; I think he just does all the work with their clients by himself or with a high-caliber partner. You would think this would make him a great boss to work for, but I implore to put yourself in such an employee's shoes: You go into the office every morning only to see your to-do list is empty. Your boss isn't there to give you any new direction. After twiddling your thumbs for four hours, you find out the reason he isn't in the office this morning is that he's recovering from betting he could take an entire pack of Borisin in a fist fight. He's not in the hospital because of the fight (which he won). He's in the hospital because he was then promptly shot in the back by the guy he was betting with. Why is your life like this? Why must you be subjected to the soap opera of your boss's own self-destructive spiral?

Even when he's around, he's probably weirdly awkward. Don't get me wrong, I bet when he's in a good mood he throws all kinds of extravagant parties in the office, and his employees would never lack for bonuses and perks. But I think he has never really bothered to learn--or perhaps simply does not care--about normal managerial behaviors and boundaries. Like, you slip up and tell him your mother-in-law is in the hospital. He comes back five minutes later to tell you he's just bought six bouquets (sent from your address), commissioned a personally embossed card for her with your monogram, and contracted the services of the best-reviewed individualized medical team in Pier Point under your name. He's patting himself on the back for being an incredibly thoughtful boss. You don't know how to tell him that you haven't spoken to your mother-in-law in years, not since her last attempt to poison you. Every six months he buys the whole team new cars. You have no idea what to do with all these cars. It's too many cars. Put some cars back. He calls everyone his "friend," but even after working for him for years, you still have absolutely no idea about his likes, dislikes, or hobbies outside of the IPC. You could not name his favorite food if someone put a gun to your head. Does he exist outside of the workplace? You literally can't imagine him anywhere but on a mission or at a poker table. He's constantly bringing an "I am the party!" vibe to the room, but everyone else is a bored 8-5 worker who doesn't have a drop of enthusiasm left in their veins. It's like when a singer asks the audience to cheer along with a song, but nobody in the audience makes a peep. Absolutely no one in the IPC cubicles can match his particular freak. Aventurine's a smooth-talker and a street-smart cookie for sure, but something about the way his smile looks like it's made out of plastic when anyone tries to engage him in chitchat at the water cooler gives you the vague impression that he's probably never had an actual friend in his life. If "uncanny valley" was a vibe a workplace could have, Aventurine's office would have it.

Long story longer, I think Aventurine has very few people willing to tolerate him as a boss, whether because they are racist or simply because his quirks are just too quirky. However, I like to imagine the few who have hung in there are ride or die. You know they have an "Aventurine Protection Squad" group chat. They probably all wear peacock-teal and gold accessories in solidarity. They have definitely disappeared people for talking shit on their boss before. Aventurine has no idea how much they actually like him.

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the second part of my story. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

—

“The jury found the defendant guilty.” 

               Joyful sounds were heard from your client, who was the victim, and from her family. You closed your eyes and a sigh of relief escaped your mouth, smiling at your performance today. You just won another trial. The suspect is proven guilty with the evidence you have against him and the jury was on your side. 

“The jury is thanked and excused. The court is adjourned.” 

               You turned to your female client. She’s a 22-year-old who was a victim of rape and sexual assault. You promised her that you will do your best to give her the justice she was longing for after being made fun of by her schoolmates, calling her such names, giving her judgemental looks, and earning a lot of hurtful words.

        It has come to the point where she almost took her own life on the rooftop of the apartment she was staying at. Being a victim of rape is traumatizing. It would take time before you recovered completely from what happened by going under rehabilitation and psychological observation. But today, justice is served.

“Thank you so much, prosecutor!” Her mom shakes my hand repeatedly. You can’t count how many times her family expressed their gratitude for helping the child. You giggled and patted the mother’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you hired me as your lawyer. By the way, how was your rehabilitation?” You asked the last part, looking at your client. She has a smile on her face, brighter than the times we met before the trial and you just realized how pretty the child is. 

“It’s all nice and okay. Prosecutor,” She took a few steps ahead towards you and held your hand. “I don’t know how to express my feelings in court. Our opponent came from a prestigious family in the town. I am afraid that we will not win because of how powerful their family is. I think I underestimated you a little and I’m sorry for that. I see how focused you were in every trial session. And now that it was confirmed that he was the bad guy, I felt so happy. So, thank you so much, Prosecutor L/n.” 

            You smiled at her and cupped her cheeks. “You’re a law student, right? I want to give you some advice that can help you when you become an attorney one day,” I paused. “I considered going into law. Not because of money, but for the thrill of problem-solving. And always remember, be an independent woman. You are what you are. Face them with your head high. Justice is served and the suspect is proven guilty.” 

            The girl nodded and gave you a tight hug. “I hope we will meet again in the future, attorney.” You nodded your head and hugged her back. “I’m looking forward to it, dear.” 

           From a distance, Leon watched how you comforted a girl after winning a nerve-wracking and intense trial in the court just now. He crossed his arms and smiled, seeing you being warm around your client. Leon received a voicemail from his earpiece, 

“Agent Kennedy, the Prime Minister, scheduled a meeting with Prosecutor L/n.” 

“Copy,” He replied before approaching you. 

               The mother of your client acknowledged his presence as Leon made his way toward you. The older woman smiled at him before looking back at you and asked something unexpected…

“Is he your husband? You two look great together.”  

                 Your eyes widened and immediately denied it. “No, we’re not. He’s not my husband. I’m still single.” You awkwardly replied. Leon was taken aback by the woman’s question and quite affected when you quickly denied the woman’s question. He felt butterflies in his stomach at the thought of you being his wife. 

“Sorry for misunderstanding but he’s only my bodyguard. He’s only with me for safety purposes.” You explain, smiling to ease the uncomfortable feeling you have. The woman nodded in understanding.  

“You’re too pretty to not be in a relationship but I respect your decision if you’re not into relationships.” She smiled and you thanked her for understanding. When your client and her family have left, you turn to Leon and shoot him a death glare. 

“Seriously? You as my husband? Hell, no.” You sharply claimed. Leon cleared his throat and replied, “I just want to say that the Prime Minister scheduled a meeting with you.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“When you received a voicemail, I received a text message from the Prime Minister.  At least you should have waited for my client to leave before popping out of nowhere only to be misunderstood as my husband.” You snarled. Leon finds you cute, though. 

“Bet you feel the butterflies in your stomach, don’t you?” He asked flirtatiously, making you scoff. 

“Butterflies,” You scoffed and chuckled sarcastically. “I got headaches.” With that, you walked past him to the exit. 

—

“Papa, you know I don’t want to be in a relationship. How many times do I need to tell you that? I don’t even want to go on a date, why are they trying to put me up in an arranged marriage?!” You snapped, rubbing your temples. 

            The meeting your father scheduled is private and personal. Right now, in front of your parents and the Senator’s son that was supposed to be your husband in this arranged marriage, looked at you in disbelief. You declared your plan in life and that is you’re not going to get married to anyone. 

“Y/n!” Your father yelled angrily. “For our family’s sake! Senator Carter’s son is the right man for you! You know that this man has the potential to become a President in the future! I want you to become the First Lady of this country.” 

“But being a First Lady has limitations, Papa! And also, it will only give me more responsibilities!” You retorted back. 

“You’re already thirty-three, Y/n. A perfect age to prepare yourself—” 

“I am not interested in becoming a First Lady,” You interrupted. "Besides, I am not into politicians. Helping the government is enough for me but marrying a politician? No." 

          With that, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room, leaving your parents disappointed and frustrated. You can hear your dad calling out your name but you did not turn back. Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn't bear the fact that your parents are forcing you to marry someone you don't love. 

           Leon noticed your expression and he knew something was wrong. "Y/n, what happened in–" He was interrupted when you snapped at him, “Shut up! This is all your fault!” 

        He was startled and the guards that were securing the area looked in your direction. Tears started falling down your eyes, and couldn't bear the pain. “This is all your fault.” You whispered before storming out of the establishment. 

            You get the keys from your driver and ride the car before driving on your own. You sobbed as you sped up on the highway but were still aware of the speed limit. You want some time alone. Betrayals, family pressure, arranged marriage… Goddamned it, why can’t you be free from this? The trauma of your past relationship with Leon did a lot of damage. You run your hand on top of your head, calming yourself down.  

—

            In your house, you are checking the report of the CIA. There are files that must go under your consent so you have a lot of papers to sign. It’s not new for you anymore. Being a prosecutor, a superior of a top security agency, as well as being a politician’s daughter has its pros and cons. When it comes to wealth and fame, you got the jackpot. But when it comes to responsibility…

“Goddamn, I need a vacation.” You sighed as you signed the last file and put them organized on the shelf. 

           And then, Leon popped into your mind out of nowhere. He has been working under you for three months now. You are secretly doing everything to make him leave. You mean it when you say you don’t need him anymore. But there are times where Leon would be so caring of you. He’d hold your hand secretly when the two of you are close to each other in crowded places. He’d take off his jacket and put it on your shoulders when he saw you shivering. Although you are cold and dismissive to him, he’s still caring for you and his love language was still the same as before. 

           Turning your heel, you went to the window and watched the city lights of Washington D.C. You want to take a break. You want to sleep all day,knowing that you deserved it for doing a great job. But you simply can’t. Even falling asleep in your room is sometimes difficult, especially when you feel something is not right. The President needs you to be active 24/7. The White House could call you anytime when an emergency occurs. Even if it was two in the morning, you need to get up and meet the President and cabinet secretaries. 

           You are so powerful that’s why there are people who tried to kill you. Imagine, surviving five assassination attempts. You may be looking cool but deep inside you are scared. Those moments where you were stunned when the assassin pulled the trigger of his gun and you barely dodge them. It makes you feel like a child, being scared when you are supposed to be brave. 

           Taking off your gloves, you looked at your scars and caressed them. You thought the pain was gone, thinking that your scars symbolizes your bravery despite being left out. But everythings is coming back ever since Leon came back. With that you remembered how you struggled just to survive.  

         Three days after Leon left with Ada, you almost lost your sanity thinking that surviving the apocalypse is impossible. You have no one to lean on. You barely make it to find an abandoned store with foods and drinks that can ease your thirst and hunger. The city was filled with zombies. Finding a safe place to stay is difficult. The device you used to track Ada’s identity was broken. It was your only hope to contact your father. 

         Every day, you’d cry while washing your wounds on your wrists to prevent contamination and easier access for infection. Being alone and desperate to survive scared you the most. You are asking yourself what you ever did to them to leave you in this state. As for your relationship with Leon, thinking about those times when you caught him with Ada, doing the unthinkable emotionally damaged you. 

“Leon– ahh!” Ada moaned as Leon pressed his half naked body to her, sucking her neck and leaving marks on her skin. “Y/n would get suspicious where did I get this,” Ada said but Leon didn’t budge. 

            Instead, he lifted the skirt of her dress and pulled her underwear out of her legs before undoing his pants and taking his member out of its cage. “Just be quiet. She wouldn’t know that we’re doing this.” He smirked before slipping his hardened cock into Ada’s aching hole. 

           They tried to be quiet to hide their secret affair while you were standing by the door, sobbing quietly. You heard how Ada moaned and praised Leon at how good he makes her feel. And then there was you, heart shattered into pieces. You felt numb and couldn’t feel or hear anything aside from the sinful sounds coming from them. 

           That piece of memory made you punch the mirror in front of you, breaking it. Your knuckles started to bleed. You covered your ears as you fell on your knees, traumatized and heartbroken. You knew that things would go wrong between you and Leon. But this is beyond your expectation. Never in your life you thought that he would do that.

          One day, you found a radio in the establishment where you are currently staying. It was functioning and you heard voices coming from the radio. You realized that it can connect to a military base. You grabbed it and spoke to the speaker. It says that the government will bomb the city to stop the virus from spreading. Hearing this increased your fear. You don’t want to die with these monsters.

“Is this the military? Please, help me. I’m a survivor.” You said, hoping that they will hear your voice. 

        After a few seconds of silence, the voice on the other line spoke. “This is Commander Valdez speaking. Please, state your name and current location.” Your hope was growing as the commander replied. 

“My name is Y/n L/n, daughter of Senator L/n. I’m a first year college student, studying Law. I am in a safe room of the high-rise hospital in Raccoon City. Please, help me. Zombies are surrounding the area.” You sobbed. 

         Hearing that you are the daughter of the Senate President caused the Commander to order to gather up his men and prepare to rescue you and also ordered the President to refrain from releasing an order to wipe out Raccoon City until you are completely rescued. 

“Miss L/n, listen carefully to my instructions. My men will be there in less than an hour. Now, I want you to prepare yourself to fight against the horde of zombies. The President has moved the time of releasing the bomb. They will nuke the city after we rescue you. I know you have limited resources to use as your weapon but I hope you can find some to defend yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The military is on its way. Go to the rooftop of the hospital. The military chopper will come to rescue you. Goodluck.” Then your conversation ended. 

             This is your last chance. You must make it out of this damned city. You went to the bathroom of the safe room and looked at yourself through the mirror. You washed your face to make up your mind and covered your injuries with a clean cloth. You wear your jacket and luckily found a baseball bat as your weapon. With a deep breath, you gathered all your strength and prepared yourself for a life-or-death fight against those monsters. 

            You walked out of the safe room quietly to prevent attracting the attention of the zombies. You held your weapon tightly, alert for any zombies to come to your way. You are currently on the 20th floor of the hospital. The rooftop is on the 25th floor. Of course, as you expected, zombies found you and chased after you. You run for your life, hitting those zombies who will try to grab you or block your path with a baseball bat. 

            Anger was rushing through your veins that you went on a killing spree with a single weapon. You looked out the window as you ran and found the helicopter coming to the hospital you are in. This increased your hopes in survival. Little by little, you made it to the rooftop. You closed and blocked the door with anything that you think can prevent those zombies opening the door. 

          The helicopter has found you from a far distance. You waved your hands in the air as you jumped to gain their attention. But the zombies managed to break in and it found you. You turned around and fear creeped out to your veins. A large horde of zombies are coming towards you. Then, you heard loud gunshots coming from the soldiers, shooting the zombies as the helicopter moved downwards on the edge of the rooftop.

“Miss Y/n! Hop on!” A soldier yelled through the loud sound of the propeller. 

                You ran towards them and jumped to the helicopter, feeling a little relieved to be rescued. The helicopter started to move away as the zombies were falling down from the building, mindlessly trying to reach for us. The soldiers check on you to see if you are bitten. The pilot spoke through the radio. 

“General, Y/n L/n is successfully rescued from the Raccoon City. She’s not bitten or infected, just some injuries that need medical attention. Aside from that, everything is cleared.” 

“Roger that,” You heard the military general replied through the radio. 

               After a few moments, when you are far enough from the city, you hear a loud, roaring, and huge explosion. You looked out and saw an atomic bomb explosion, destroying Raccoon City. You saw how wide the bomb reached to kill those who were alive or undead. You survived the chaos on your own. You make it out of the forsaken city. You are the last man standing. The city where Leon promised you that you build your dreams and goals has been wiped out into ashes.

            A sigh escapes your mouth as you caress your scars. For everyone who barely knows you, wearing gloves is your trademark in fashion. People never see you take them off or go out without gloves on. But your family and other important people in your life know what’s behind that piece of clothing. It’s not like you were ashamed of it. It’s just that it hurts you emotionally as you remembered that you went under hard and difficult circumstances just to survive as those people you helped betrayed and left you to die. 

            Your phone opened and rang, snapping you back to your senses. You turned around and grabbed your phone. It’s a call from your older brother, Judge Dylan L/n. You picked up the call and put the phone next to your ear. 

“Dylan? What can I do for you?” You asked. 

“Y/n, Papa called me just now. What was that behavior?” He asked calmly but there’s a lingering strict tone. 

“If you’ll scold me, I’ll hang up.” You scoffed. 

“Y/n, you are the only daughter of the Prime Minister of the country and has the potential to become a First Lady.”

“I know that. Among the Prime Minister’s five children, I am the youngest and the only daughter. But that doesn’t mean that I need to go under his order to marry a politician.”

“But the boy is the son of the Senate President.”

“Dylan, please. Don’t make yourself a problem for me. He didn’t even congratulate me for winning my case today. He just called a private meeting only to say that I am bound to marry the man and ended up scolding.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Y/n,” Dylan paused. “I know that your past relationship still affects you. But in this case, you are just proving to them that you haven’t moved on from your ex-lover. Y/n, it’s been fifteen years…” 

             You sighed, heading over the table to pour yourself a glass of wine. 

“Please, believe me when I say that I truly moved on from my past relationship. It’s just that…” You paused, trying to find the right word to say. “The pain was coming back. You know that feeling when you believe in yourself that you are completely free but the truth is you are still chained up to the past?”

“Did you and that guy cross paths again?” He asked and you hummed. 

“I don’t know if fate is fooling around with me. After fifteen years, why did he come back? I mean, I don’t want to see him or even cross paths again with him but then, one day he just appeared out of nowhere.” You explained. Your brother chuckled at your response. 

“I think I know the guy you are talking about. Leon Kennedy, right? Your ex-lover but currently your bodyguard.” You pouted as his response. “If Papa knows that Leon Kennedy is your ex, what do you think he will do?” He asked.

“He will fire him immediately, probably.” You replied. 

“Wrong,” Dylan quickly responded. “You and Papa never interact with each other that much, that's why you don’t know the possibility of his reaction regarding the issue.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“Y/n, please. If you interact with Papa, you will find the answer. That’s all for now. I have to prepare for my trial tomorrow. I just called to check on you.” 

           You bid goodbye to each other before ending the call. You received another phone call from the Senate President’s son. You picked the call…

“Let’s have a drink. The usual place.” He said.

—

        Leon can still hear how loud you were when you snapped at him earlier. He can tell that your meeting with your family did not end well. The way your eyes teared up when you yelled at him, gaining the attention of the people who were in the area at that time. Leon gulped down another glass of whiskey, slightly wincing at how strong the alcohol is as he ran his thumb against your photo, which he secretly took throughout the years. 

         Yes, he has been stalking you. After saving Ashley Graham from an insane cult in Spain, he immediately did some research on you. And there he found out about your success after leaving you in a hard situation in Raccoon City in 1998. At that time, you were a newly licensed prosecutor but you became one of the most influential prosecutors in the Supreme Court as you easily solved and won cases back then. Your father was a Senate President back then and having you beside him is a big asset. With that, your father managed to reach the position of Prime Minister. 

          Every event you need to attend whether it was a national or international, he was there. He camouflaged within the crowd so that you wouldn’t see him or feel his presence. He took a lot of pictures of you, keeping them in a secret room of his house. He was obsessed with you. He even finds himself masturbating in his room with your picture in his hand, looking so elegant in every angle, every outfit you wore, every look you pulled out, it drives him crazy. 

           For his latest mission, which was in China, he brought a dozen of your pictures as his motivation and inspiration. Weird but he did. There are times when he was in a tight situation and went through near-death experiences but he remembers that he needs to come back. For you. He encountered Ada again but this time, he was not her puppy anymore, who would follow her demands and manipulate him. 

“I heard that she’s the new Chief of the CIA aside from being a prosecutor. Seems like your ex-lover has already moved on from you.” Ada smirked as she looked at the photo of you in a black dress, holding a piece of paper while speaking in court. 

“Give it back,” Leon demanded. “What are you even doing here, Ada? Are you going to use me again?” He added and Ada chuckled in response. “What do you think?” 

             What Ada did not expect was Leon’s sudden attack. He disarmed her and took the photo out of her grasp, hissing when it was crumpled slightly. Ada noticed his unusual behavior and smirked. 

“You’re obsessed with her. What is she going to think when you two meet again? What will be her reaction if she meets the one she loved the most but also the one who betrayed her?” Ada asked, trying to provoke Leon.

           Leon got furious when Ada dug up the past. Without hesitation, he pulled out his gun and shot Ada in the shoulder with eyes full of anger and guilt, not for her but for you, who he left just to escape that damn city. The woman looked at him in shock. Never in a million years did she expect that Leon would do this to her. He was different from the one she used to order around. There were also times when Leon almost got down on his knees and worshiped her like a saint. But now, his eyes are filled with the flame of anger. Leon wasn’t hers anymore, but yours even without knowing it. 

         Five months after that mission, he was summoned to the White House by the President and they talked about the assassination attempts you had. His face remained calm but his hands were clenched into fists and his insides were burning in anger. When the President asked him if he could be your bodyguard, he immediately said yes. Your father, the Prime Minister trusted him the moment the President introduced him as a recommendation. That’s how he got into your life again. 

            He prepared a plan on how he was going to win your heart again. He thought it would be easy but it turns out it isn’t. You are colder than he expected. You never look at him the way you used to look at him before. It wasn’t easy to make a conversation with you as you always dismissed him. His top priority is to keep you safe away from assassination attempts you might encounter again in the future while finding a way to see a crack in your armor. 

           He believes that you will give in to him someday. He laid down on his bed, closing his eyes, and imagine how good it feels to be between your legs as he fucks you hard. The way you’d moan loudly or even scream, praising him for making you feel so good. You’d hold onto his shoulders as he pounds against your cunt, tip kissing your cervix that sends you crying. 

          His mind was filled with lewd images of you, wearing tight blouses and pencil skirts, teasing him as you walked. Your curves are perfectly fitted into the skirt and he will pounce on you and rip all of your clothing until you are completely naked under him. You and Leon never made it to take your relationship to the next level because you were just eighteen and in your first year in college back then. You two agreed that you’ll only do it when you are ready or wait until you get married. Although your relationship was a secret, you both gave pure love to each other until shit happens. 

            He believes that your virginity hasn’t been taken yet. For someone like you who focuses on studies and two professions as well as having trust issues, he’s sure that no one hasn’t touched or even kissed you. And the thought of taking your virginity sends him to the edge as he found himself masturbating. 

“Y/n… you feel so damn good. So tight!” He moaned, imagining how tight you are when he pushed his pulsating cock inside your wet, aching, virgin pussy. 

              Your moans ring into his ears as he fucks you. The way you’d ask him to be gentle or be careful of you, sobbing. And the best part of it is when he spilled his warm seeds deep into your cunt. In real life, his cock spurted his juices, staining his hands and abdomen as he trembled from his orgasm, groaning as he let it out until the last drop. 

             No, he did not feel guilty. Why not? He’s going to take you back. Now that he heard from his co-worker that you are bound to marry the Senate President’s son. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Not even over his dead body. If he needs to go through hell just to win your heart again, he will do it without any hesitation. 

—

         On the other side, you are back in the VIP Room of the bar where you usually go. You are currently with the Senate President’s son. There’s an awkward tension between the two of you. David Carter is sipping on his glass of vodka while you are drinking wine. 

“Your outburst earlier is unexpected,” He chuckled, studying your expression. You glanced at him as he started the conversation. “A lot of women tried to catch my attention but then there was you.” 

“Is that a compliment?” You asked, sipping on your wine and he nodded with a hum in response. 

             David might be quiet and did not have a chance to explain himself during your meeting yesterday but he is one of the most respected and most influential men in politics just like you. He’s a congressman with the potential to reach the highest rank in the country. That’s why your father wants him to be your husband. 

“Yes. I rarely compliment a woman. You know I have a high standard when it comes to women and you passed.” 

“Because this is me.”  You rebutted, rolling your eyes, and smirked. 

              You two are good friends. You went to the same law school and passed the board exams together. When you were elected as the new Chief of the CIA, he was elected as a congressman. Coincidence? He would say no but you would say yes. David understands why you suddenly snapped at your father upon mentioning the arranged marriage. He knows that you have a trauma in love although he doesn’t know who caused you that pain to be so dismissive of love. But deep down, he wished that you would realize that he has hidden feelings towards you. 

“I noticed that you are not with your personal bodyguard today. Leon Kennedy, right?” He asked, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes again. 

“I don’t know. I don’t care though. That guy needs to breathe from my dark presence.” You joked. 

“I’m surprised that he’s not resigning yet when you are so cold and dismissive to him. In my perspective, men who manage to stay despite your bad side are the ones who have true feelings for you.” You paused and glanced at him. 

“I feel this agent knows you better than I know you. For the past three months of him being your bodyguard, I have never seen someone who's more patient than your father. I noticed that you throw your tantrums on him often but he will only look at you and give you your favorite coffee. Your former bodyguards never bring you your coffee without you telling them which one you prefer. But this agent, he will just pop out of nowhere with a cup of coffee you like. Is there something I don’t know about? Do you have connections with each other?” He added. 

“Oh, David. Stop the spectacle of yourself. Agent Kennedy is nothing but only an agent who saved Ashley from Spain and is currently my bodyguard.” You retorted. 

“But a bodyguard wouldn’t act so protective and caring of you. I mean, he’s crossing the line of being a bodyguard and you don’t notice. He’d protect you from the media, people who will tend to cause you discomfort, and bodyguards should keep an eye on his distance to his boss. But he will take off his jacket and put it on your shoulder like a man who cares for his lover.” 

“Enough!” You snarled. 

“You’re guilty because it’s true. A bodyguard shouldn’t look at his boss with stars in his eyes.” David added. 

              What's surprising about him, even though he has secret feelings towards you, it feels like he’s helping you regarding your issue with Leon which you never mentioned to anyone before. 

“Admit it already, Y/n.  You and Agent Kennedy had a thing before.” 

                   You looked at him, speechless. David is a very observant person but he takes that to another level that's beyond your expectations. He raised his eyebrow at you while you shook your head in defeat. 

“You’re right. We used to be lovers.” You admitted. 

—

             Leon was in his apartment across the apartment building you are in. He purchased the unit to keep an eye on you a few years ago. He knows that this is the place where you usually go to ease your mind rather than going to your own home. He brought his own telescope, not to look up in the sky but to stalk you. With his knowledge in hacking, he used to sneak into your apartment unit and set up small cameras that are difficult to see around your place to see what you are doing when you are out of his sight. 

            You just came back from your hang out with David. You are quite tipsy and tired after a long day. Leon watched you from his computer, your every movement is being captured by the  hidden cameras he put around your apartment. You kicked off your heels and put them on the shoe rack before heading straight to your bedroom to have a nice and cool shower. Undressing yourself, Leon watched your naked figure step into the shower. The sound of water running as you hummed a song sent shivers down to his spine. 

            He watched how you touch yourself as you scrub yourself with soap and wash your hair with shampoos. The way the water ran down your body is something he can’t ignore, but craves. Those perfect large breasts, slim waist, and thick thighs, ugh. He badly wants to go there and fuck you already. 

            After thirty minutes of shower and skincare routine, you came out of your bathroom, wearing nothing but your robe and drying your hair with a towel. Leon continued watching you. He observed you as he realized that you were looking out the window, staring at the apartment building where he was currently in. He looked out too and there he found you standing, seemed to be in a deep thought. He studied your face and he believes that you’re unable to see him because his window is tinted. 

         But for you, you can definitely see him. Since Leon has become your bodyguard, you were even more observant of your surroundings. You've always had a feeling that someone is watching from the shadows and the moment you meet him again, your questions have been answered. Earlier, you and David had discussed this without mentioning Leon’s name. 

“You know, obsessive people are usually more on body language, eye contacts, and sometimes, they use metaphorical words. They are waiting for the right time to have their way to their target. I suggest you give this man a little show. I believe you can do this easily. For a seductress like you, I think this is an easy task.” David smirks as he sips on his whiskey.

“What kind of ‘show’ are you talking about?” You asked. 

“A strip show…” 

            You glared at him at the idea he suggested. “But be careful. Don’t let your bodyguard know about this show you are about to pull out or else you’ll receive a severe punishment from your daddy.” He chuckled. 

            He doesn’t know that the obsessive man you are talking about was no one but your bodyguard himself… 

           Sighing, you untie your robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing your perfect naked body. Leon gasped as his eyes widened in surprise about your sudden, unexpected move. You looked like a Greek Goddess that came down on Earth to seduce men and fulfill their lustful needs. You smirked before getting inside, slowly walking, naked. You grabbed your phone and played soothing, yet seductive music. 

             You started dancing and closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm and the melody of the music. Your hair dances in the air as you turn gracefully. Leon watches you, smiling to himself. Seeing you dance like that felt like nostalgia but way different from before. You changed from a sweet teenager into a seductress. Leon smirked, crossing his arms. 

             After a few minutes, you stopped dancing and went to your closet and wore a silk nightgown, gloves, and a coat. You put on your sandals, dried your hair, and put on a light shade of lipstick. You left your apartment, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened. You just gave him a little strip show, unsure if you did it on purpose or was that just some naughty habits he had never seen until now. While Leon heaves out an unsatisfied sigh, you went to the apartment building across yours to confront him already. 

              David is right. He crossed the line of being a bodyguard. Though he is affectionate to you when the two of you are together, you did not expect him to be this obsessive of you. 

“...or just give in to his needs already if you find yourself attracted to the man. Confront him.”

                You remember David gave you another advice earlier before going home. You also thought about this while taking a shower. You are aware that there’s a hidden camera around your house. Yet, you don’t feel creeped out at all as if you know who’s responsible for this. All the dots are connected and the mystery is solved the moment Leon came back and got hired as your bodyguard. The spark you felt towards this obsessive person sparked even more when it comes to Leon. It’s always him. Every question you make about this emotional stuff always leads back to him. 

             The ding of the elevator snapped you back to your senses as the doors opened. You stepped out of the elevator and went to Leon’s apartment unit, Unit 2704. You pressed the doorbell and waited for Leon to open the door. 

            He went to the front door and looked at the peephole. He was surprised to see you standing on his doorstep. He opened the door, you looked at him and he was surprised to see you. 

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone.

—

To Be Continued...

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Celebrity crush

jack hughes x youtuber!reader universe

note: i love this one, it's just cute and short!

“Do we have to watch ‘Nowhere Boy’ again?” a very annoyed Jack asked his obviously excited girlfriend, before he continued, “We just watched it last month.”

“Yes. But that was a recreational watch, this is a watch for research.” the girl said, already pulling up the familiar movie, knowing Jack will cave, he always caves for her.

“What research do you have to do?” the younger brother asked from the kitchen, for one of his trips to get food, between playing his video game.

“So glad you asked Luke!” she said, turning her body to face behind her at the boy, her boyfriend rolling his eyes (as he usually does) his head falling into place on the couch cushion behind him, as Y/n continues, “It’s the end of the year, and with the end of the year comes my ‘crush recap’ podcast episode. It’s my favourite time of year!”

“I didn’t know that was why we were watching this! I don’t want to watch a movie were the entire time you just note everytime he does something hot!”

“That is not what I do.”

--

“Who are you taking notes on in this one.”

“Who do you think?” the girl says, giving her boyfriend an ‘are you serious’ look, as she turns back to the TV abd turning on ‘don’t worry, darling’

“What I mean is Harry Styles and Florence Pugh, so which one?”

“This is good for you, two birds one stone.” Y/n replied, impressed he remembered who was in the movie. But thinking more of it, she did not shut up about it in the months leading up to the movies release (and many months after the release)

“Good.”

--

Sitting in the living room, Y/n was recording a podcast. Both the boys were at practice, leaving the girl a good time to record.

“She is so hot! Ahhhhhh!!…. I’m sorry, the Julian Baker thing is really getting out of hand. But like I’m in love with her so I don’t know what you want from me.” Y/n mumbled, looking as if she just got caught red-handed. Which she had, she was just too busy to notice.

“Who-Wha-” Jack said, before giving up and walking into their shared room to get ready to shower off the practice.

--

As Jack walked into the living room, looking for his girlfriend he comes to find her sitting on the couch. Blushing. This was nowhere out of the realm of ordinary for Y/n, but never this much.

“Who has you blushing this much?” the boy asked, coming to look other the older girl’s shoulder, only for him to bot be able to get a look as Y/n quickly turns off her phone. Now this was weird, she never has a problem telling him who her celebrity crush this week is, so why not now?

“It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you show me.” he questioned, pouting slightly in hopes of getting her to crack.

“‘Cause it’s nothing.” she replies, her eyes following Jack as he rounds the couch.

“Really?” he asks, in a rhetorical sense, bringing his hands to her sides where he knows she’s ticklish. Wary of his hand placement the girl responds with, “Yes. Really.”

“‘Cause I don’t think so!” He announced, bringing one hand to reach for his girlfriends phone, while the other begins to tickle the girls sides.

“No! Jack! Aghh, stop!” Y/n struggles out, laughing and trying to wiggy out of Jack’s grasp. Yet, she’s to late as Jack grabs her phone, standing from the couch and running into the kitchen. Y/n recovering then running after him.

“Me?! I made you blush like that?” the boys yells, rewatching the edit of himself that previously had his girl a blushing mess.

“Shut up! Give me that!” the girl says, back to being said blushing mess, while grabbing her phone from the younger boys hand.

“Aw, am I this weeks celebrity crush?” Jack teases, following Y/n out of the room.

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog @dancerbailey3

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

[starryeyedjanai]

catch the embers on my tongue

kinktober prompt: frottage; @eddiemonth prompt: crush explicit | 5.2k

read on ao3

Steve's leaning into Eddie's side and they are high, high, high.

It's about time they got high together. After everything they've been through, and after he spent months recovering from wounds so deep they didn't know if he was going to make it, Eddie thinks they deserve this.

He hasn't smoked in months, the longest he's gone since the first time he tentatively took the joint from some kid he was hanging out with back in like middle school.

He hasn't been able to - the damage to his entire body was rough, his lungs were just one of many things that will probably never be the same. But it's been long enough, he figures. It doesn't ache when he breathes anymore, his body on the up and up.

So he invites Steve over to smoke with him because he remembers selling to him a handful of times when he was in high school, Steve showing up at his locker or waiting by his van after school sometimes. He remembers always wondering back then what Steve would be like when he was high. If he's the talkative type, the paranoid type, the quiet and contemplative type, the horny type.

Even he can admit he's thought about Steve enough to have thoughts on all of those situations and musings about how he'd handle each of them.

But he's not exactly prepared for Steve to be handsy, to be giggly and leaning into him and joking and touching him casually. Because sober Steve keeps his hands to himself, Eddie's noticed.

He's had a theory for years now that Steve is probably touch starved, from not having his parents around much, from the only form of intimacy other than sex being clapping his friends or teammates on the shoulder.

And knowing him now, actually knowing him, he knows he was right. Because Steve is somehow so touch starved that he's touch averse with most people, like he can't handle it, the lightest brush of someone's hand oh his skin has him dodging out of the way to avoid it.

The only person he isn't like that with is Robin. And Dustin has speculated enough times why that might be that Robin eventually came out to the group just to get them all to stop talking about it - well, that and she trusts them. It felt like Eddie's heart was going to burst in his chest at being part of that trusted group.

So Steve doesn't really touch people, doesn't reach out for any of the group for hugs, doesn't really cuddle with anyone during movie nights.

But high Steve, he touches.

They don't even finish the joint they're sharing, because it's been a while for both of them. Eddie's feeling the pleasant buzz under his skin, his lips feeling cold and tingling a little when they're barely halfway done with it. He stubs it out when Steve bows out of taking it from him.

Without the joint to pass between them, they talk. One of his hands somehow ends up in Steve's grasp. He touches Eddie's fingers, plays with his rings, as he talks.

It's mostly chatter that Eddie mostly can't keep up with as he acclimates to the way his brain feels less fuzzy than it has in months, the background noises fading away until all he can hear is Steve, all he can feel is Steve's fingers spinning one of his rings around.

He feels grounded, kind of, focusing in on Steve's voice, watching his mouth move as he talks. He's calmer than he's felt in months, feels less out of control, sitting on his bed next to Steve, letting him touch his hand.

It's only a handful of minutes later when they're laughing about something or another, when out of nowhere Steve puts his hands on Eddie's chest and pushes him down on his bed in what has to be a moment straight out of Eddie's wet dreams before he realizes that Steve is pressing him into the bed because he wants to cuddle with him.

It still has his heart racketing in his chest even after realizing, because he's so close to Steve. Their faces are pressed close together and he can feel the several points of contact between them like a brand on his skin.

It's one of those weirdly hot September days, so they're both in shorts. Steve's wearing a sweater even though Eddie knows he has to be hot in it. Even with the sweater on, this is more skin contact than Eddie is used to with anyone.

He realizes now, in this moment, that he too has become a little touch starved since everything happened.

He couldn't handle a lot of touch in the beginning, his body healing, his skin scarring over in a lot of areas. The scar tissue was sensitive for a long while even after it was safe to touch, so the party and his friends stopped touching him - he'd flinch or brace himself when people got near, ready for the ache or pain or sensitivity that comes with touch nowadays, so they stopped touching him as much to spare him of that.

And now, laying here, pressed up against Steve Harrington, of all people, he's realizing how much he craves touch, how much he's missed having someone's skin against his like this, even platonically - not that he has much experience with things being not platonic.

But his friends stopped touching him because any touch hurt him for a while and then they just kind of haven't started again.

They're probably waiting on a cue from him, he guesses. It's what he'd do, if touch suddenly hurt one of his friends. He'd wait for them to say it was okay, or to initiate touch, before he started cuddling up to them again.

So even though he knows cognitively that's likely the reason, there's a thread of a darker thought that passes through his head, that maybe his friends don't touch him anymore because he's somehow even more of a freak than before. That his scars make him untouchable, undesired, that even the freaks of Hawkins don't want to touch him.

He shakes himself free of those thoughts. He knows that's just his brain being dumb. His friends don't care what he looks like, they never have. If they did, they wouldn't be his friends anyway - that's not the kind of company he keeps.

He tries to get back to the feeling of finally having someone's warmth against his skin after a long, touch-starved drought, calming his thoughts again so all he feels is Steve.

He likes it, he finds - the warmth. Steve's skin is hot to the touch, the air around them warm from having the air conditioning off.

He likes this, probably too much, hasn't had enough touch in months, and Steve is the one here giving it to him.

He likes this and he's been unknowingly craving this. That's a dangerous combination.

He wants to burrow deep, to pull their clothes off so he can get even more skin contact. He wants to feel the whorls of his fingertips dragging on Steve's own scars, because he's maybe the only one who can appreciate it. He's maybe the only one who can understand this - what it's like to want to be touched but not be able to be, to feel like maybe the scars are the reason why he's not getting the touch he needs.

He feels the heat seeping from Steve's skin against his and he wants to wrap himself up in that warmth. After a moment of contemplating whether it would be a good idea or not, he does it anyway.

He's spent months not being able to do the things he wants to do, is the thing.

He's spent months not getting high, not really being able to have his friends touch him without it hurting, not being able to get out of bed, not being able to stand for too long without it hurting. He's spent months bored out of his fucking mind while his body healed from something more traumatic than he ever thought he'd go through.

He thinks he's allowed to have this. He thinks he's allowed to enjoy this, even.

So he pulls Steve closer to him, impossibly close, pressed together all the way from their chests to their shins, legs tangling together. He tucks his head in close, rubs his face against the soft fabric of Steve's sweater.

"I've missed this," he finds himself saying, sighing into Steve's shoulder.

Steve pulls back a little to be able to look at Eddie's face when he asks, "Getting high?"

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, that. But also, this," he says, trapping one of Steve's legs between his and squeezing it between his. "I feel like no one touches me anymore."

There's more he could say, the introspective thoughts about how he gets it - the self-deprecating jokes about his scars bitter on his tongue. But he doesn't say it because Steve already gets it. He has similar scars. Scars that run along his back and his torso and his neck. His neck scar is still visible in most shirts. Eddie knows he gets it.

"Yeah," Steve says quietly. "I think I missed this too."

They've never touched like this before, never spent an afternoon curled up together, and he wishes he could go back in time to tell himself to befriend Steve, so they'd get more moments like this. So they'd get thousands of moments like this before all the bad stuff happened.

His brain conjures up the image of high school Steve in his bed in his old trailer. He thinks of Steve's coiffed hair and his polos and barely contains the laugh bubbling up in his chest. He'd look so out of place there.

But Eddie doesn't think he would have been, not really. Not after he lost his crown, after his downfall from King of Hawkins High. He thinks Steve would have fit right in with the rest of Eddie's things - his sweetheart, his posters, his rack of cassette tapes, his Steve. Eddie thinks he would have liked Steve in that room, surrounded by all of Eddie's favorite things.

But he knows his past self wouldn't have allowed it. Even though Steve had changed by his senior year, Eddie was still very much subscribed to a nerds versus jocks dichotomy.

He doesn't think he would have allowed Steve to get close enough to him to be someone he invited over, someone he invited into his room, his space, the only place in Hawkins that was really Eddie's. He would have been too paranoid that Steve would have been trying to pull something over on him.

He's pulled from his thoughts by Steve putting his hand on Eddie's side. He's not touching his skin, but Eddie still flinches. The skin has long since healed over into scars that sometimes pull weird with sudden movement, making it feel like the skin is going to crack open.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispers. "Do your scars still hurt? I should have probably asked that before tackling you to the bed."

"No," Eddie says. "They don't hurt. The skin's just weirdly sensitive sometimes. You can keep touching me. It's fine." The second the words are out of his mouth, his face is on fire.

You can keep touching me. That's a loaded sentence if he ever heard one.

Steve either doesn't notice or doesn't care that his face is beet red. He just returns his hand to Eddie's side, where his shirt has ridden up a little. This time, instead of letting his hand rest over Eddie's side on top of his shirt, he pushes his shirt up more, spreading his big hand over the expanse of Eddie's largest scar.

God, his hands are so big. And this is so not the time to be thinking about that.

The feeling of Steve's hand on him makes Eddie shiver. He tries to suppress it, but it wracks its way through his body regardless.

He knows Steve feels it. He has to, with the way his body is pressed so close to Eddie's. There's no way he misses it, the full body shudder, the way his breath hitches a little because of it.

Steve doesn't say anything, but he thumbs at the scars on Eddie's side, right where the scar meets his unmarred skin.

He's being so gentle with him that it makes Eddie want to whine. It makes him want to whine and rock his hips against Steve's, the delicate way he's touching him, just the slightest pressure of his thumb on his skin. It's like a tease, almost. It's like Steve wants Eddie to feel like this, like he knows exactly what touching him like this is doing to him.

Eddie tries to get his bearings right again, tries to be normal about this, but he's high, and it's been so long since he felt good like this. Part of him wants to give in completely, right away, wants to, to knock Steve onto his back and climb on top of him. Wants to press his entire body weight onto him, feel every inch of his skin against his own.

But he knows that's crazy. Even if Steve were receptive to the things that Eddie wants, he doesn't think Steve would want to jump right in. He seems to be the type that would want it to go a little slower, to want to be wooed in bed. He's the type to hold hands during sex and look deeply into his lover's eyes for the connection. At least, that's what Eddie assumes about him, anyway, from the way he talks about relationships and love and what he wants his future to look like.

So even as high as he is, he knows Steve probably wouldn't want to be pushed around like that, at least not at first.

The longer Eddie thinks about it, the longer he has Steve so close to him, the longer he has his hands on him, the more Eddie craves it. He's never wanted like this before, he doesn't think.

He's not super experienced beyond quick and dirty hand jobs or blow jobs. He's never had someone touch him like this before. Touching just to touch. Any touching during his previous encounters were just the quick preliminary touches to get the other guy out of his jeans. The touches didn't linger. They certainly didn't feel like this.

He tucks his head close to Steve's neck again, lets his lips just barely brush against the skin there, tries to keep his breath even. It could be written off as an accident, that he just got too close, because they're already so close. Steve could ignore it.

He doesn't.

He slides his hand down Eddie's side, past his hip to grip his thigh and hitch it up near Steve's hip. Eddie can't keep the gasp from escaping his mouth.

He's already half-hard, just from thinking thoughts about Steve. How the hell is he going to survive this?

Steve's hand travels back up the back of his thigh, stops right before it reaches his ass.

Eddie's heart is beating so fucking fast in his chest.

He pulls back to look at Steve. His eyes are dark, and his lips are red like he's been biting them. Eddie wants to bite them, too.

"Steve," Eddie says, unsure exactly what to say, what he could say to get Steve to want this. Does he have to convince him? Does he have to tell him it doesn't have to mean anything? It would be a lie - it would mean something to him. But if Steve only wants this now, when he's high, Eddie thinks he can handle that. He thinks he can be okay with it, if it means he gets to have this right now.

Steve shushes him though, doesn't seem to need any convincing before he leans in and kisses Eddie.

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath against his mouth.

He hadn't realized how much he's been wanting this because he never really let himself think about it. It's not just touch, not just anybody's touch, not just anybody's kiss, that he craves. It's Steve's touch, Steve's kiss. It's Steve's lips against his, Steve's body against his.

He obviously knows Steve is attractive, but they've grown close over the past few months.

He thinks Steve is probably one of the best friends he's ever had. And of course, with that comes other feelings because how could it not? How could anyone look at Steve and not want? How could anyone know Steve and not want him?

Eddie hasn't been thinking about it, about how he looks at Steve sometimes, about how he watches him. He hasn't thought about it because he knows what it means when his heart beats faster because of it. He knows what it means when his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest when he makes Steve laugh. He knows what it all means, so he hasn't let himself think about it.

But with Steve pressing sweet, gentle kisses against his mouth, the feelings slam into him. He's wanted this so bad.

This impossible crush, these impossible feelings that he has tried so hard to ignore, tried to get to lay dormant when he became friends with Steve, come rushing to the surface with him so close like this, with his mouth on Eddie's like it belongs there.

He pulls Steve's bottom lip into his mouth and bites it. He can't not. Steve gasps against his mouth.

He sucks on his lip gently, tongues at it to soothe the sting away, and hears Steve let out a sigh.

Steve's hand is still on his thigh, trapping his thigh against Steve's hip. He wants his hands on him, wants Steve to touch him everywhere.

He licks into Steve's mouth, slow and deep, their tongue sliding against each other like they've got all the time in the world.

Eddie's hand has been idle against Steve's chest, but he needs to touch, needs to feel him. So he slides his hand up to cup Steve's neck, to tilt his head to better lick into his mouth. He keeps his hand there, fingertips brushing the scar on his neck, his thumb digging into the hinge of his jaw.

He kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, until all the air in his lungs is gone, until he's hard in his shorts, until his lips feel swollen.

Steve's hand stays stubbornly on his thigh, not moving an inch up towards his ass. Eddie might be a little offended by it if he couldn't feel the way Steve is also hard in his shorts, if he hadn't just spent ten minutes getting to know the inside of his mouth.

He likes this so much, he realizes. He's never been the type to savor it - he hasn't ever really had the opportunity to. The few times he's had anything like this, it had to be quick, it had an expiration date, it had to be over as soon as possible. He's never just sat around and kissed someone until his jaw hurt, until his lips were aching.

He didn't expect it to be this easy, to just put a tiny little thread in the loop and have it spin so easily for him. He didn't think that maybe Steve had been wanting this too, craving this for just as long as he had.

He couldn't even imagine it - Steve, looking at him and wanting, Steve watching him when he's not looking the way that he watches Steve. He can't wrap his mind around it, Steve looking over at him being a dumbass in so many situations and still being like, yep, I want his tongue in my mouth.

But it feels like that's what this is. Because Steve's kissing him with just as much hunger. Steve's kissing him and has his hand on his thigh, gripping him like he owns him. Eddie wants him to push him on his back, to spread his thighs open and show him just how much of him he owns. He wants him.

He pushes his hips forward experimentally, a slow grind. It makes Steve groan against his mouth. The sound is addictive - Eddie wants to chase that sound, to make Steve groan over and over and over as he chases his pleasure between Eddie's thighs.

Steve bites his lip, harder than Eddie had bitten his, and it stings. They've been at it for so long that Eddie's lips were already getting swollen and sensitive, so Steve biting one of them like that pulls a moan out of him.

He pulls back, breathing heavy, to kiss his way down Steve's neck, to bite at his neck. He wants to cover him in marks - deep, purpling bruises. He wants to see his neck and his chest covered, a molten mess of love bites.

His heart stupidly stutters in his chest at the thought of biting a bruise the shape of a heart into his skin. God, he's so gone for him. He has a heart boner for him in addition to a regular one.

He pulls the neck of Steve's sweater down and sucks a bruise into the smooth, tan skin of his collarbone, and when he pulls back, the skin is a deep red. He smiles at his work, knows it's going to deepen in color with time. He's never felt possessive like this before, like he wants to cover him in bruises so everyone knows he's someone's, so everyone knows he's Eddie's.

Is he Eddie's?

The look in his eyes when Eddie looks back up at his face says yes.

Steve pulls Eddie on top of him, their bodies flush together again, and gets a hand in his hair. He tugs his head to the side so he can bite at Eddie's neck the way that Eddie was just gnawing on his. It startles a moan out of him. He didn't know his neck was so sensitive.

He lets Steve suck a bruise into his skin and tries not to accidentally come because of it. All the kissing, their bodies pressed together, their cocks hard and grinding together through layers of fabric - it all feels like so much, too much almost.

He's on top of him, but he doesn't feel in control right now at all.

He can barely stop himself from grinding down and coming in his underwear like a teenager. He wants it, wants to come with Steve's mouth on his skin.

Steve kisses his neck, where his skin is likely bruised now, before he pulls back, thumbing at the mark like he's satisfied he left his mark on Eddie as well.

Steve releases his hair from his grip and slides his hand down between them. Eddie can't stop the groan that leaves his mouth at feeling Steve palm at him.

"Is this okay?" he asks, and Eddie isn't sure what he's talking about - his hand touching Eddie's dick? Hell yeah, that's okay. This entire thing? Again, hell fucking yeah.

He nods, because any way you spin it, everything they've been doing is a-okay with Eddie.

Steve grins up at him and Eddie can't help but grin back at him, still in awe that this is happening.

Steve undoes the buttons on Eddie's shorts and unties the tie at the waistband of his own shorts.

Eddie sits up to shove his shorts down and off, watching Steve do the same, leaving his shorts around his thighs.

He looks at Steve's bulge, his cock hard and straining in his underwear. He wants to lean in and put his mouth on it. Get the fabric nice and wet with a mix of his spit and Steve's precome. He wants to suck it through the fabric, tongue at the soft fabric and pull noises from Steve the entire time.

He wants to put his mouth on Steve's thighs. They're paler than the rest of his tan skin, milky and smooth. He wants to see that skin mottled and bruised too.

He can wait for those things, though. He thinks he has time. The thought makes him damn near giddy - the thought of more, of doing this again and in different ways, in every way possible. They haven't even made each other come yet and he's thinking about all the other ways he wants him. He's so far gone on him.

When Eddie lowers himself back down, he tries to keep his reaction to their cocks rubbing up against each other through their underwear to a minimum, but he feels a shiver run through him. It feels overwhelming, and they aren't even naked, aren't even touching cocks with nothing separating them.

He thinks that would probably be enough to make him come immediately, feeling the velvety skin of Steve's cock against his own as they grind together, if how overwhelming this feels is any indication. He feels like he's just a few breaths away from shoving his hips down and humping Steve with abandon until he's making a mess of both of them.

He grinds down against him slowly, trying not to overwhelm himself. He presses his mouth to Steve's again, tangling his tongue with his as his hips move. He rolls his hips against Steve's, their dicks pressed together tightly.

He pulls back to look down at the way they're pressed together and he groans. There's a wet spot on Steve's underwear where he's leaking precome into the fabric. He's losing his goddamn mind.

He sits up and pulls his shirt off so he has a moment to take a breath.

He leans back in and grinds down on Steve again, pushing Steve's sweater up, not sure how he's even still wearing it. Eddie's sweating and he was only in a short sleeved shirt.

Steve enthusiastically pulls his sweater up and in the excitement, it gets a little tangled getting over his head, so they have to stop grinding against each other to figure it out. Steve's head pops out of the head hole of his sweater and Eddie can't help but sit up and laugh. Steve arms are caught up in his sweater, awkwardly making his arms box his head in.

He looks flushed and aroused and out of breath from struggling with his sweater and his hair is a mess, but he's still so unfairly pretty.

Steve pouts at him and says, "Don't laugh at me. Help me out of this?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Eddie says with a grin, sliding his hands up to push the sweater up a little, exposing more of Steve's biceps. Eddie wants to bite them. "I kind of like having you at my disposal here."

He says it as a joke, mostly, ready to help Steve get his arms untangled from his sweater. But he sees the way Steve's eyes darken, sees the way he licks his lips like he likes that thought, the thought of being at Eddie's mercy.

He asks, "You like that?" because he has to be sure he isn't reading this wrong. Steve nods his head, slow and sure.

So Eddie grinds his hips down slowly, pushes Steve's sweater up more, to free up more of his arms. He pushes his hands into the arm holes of the sweater and tangles his fingers with Steve's hands where they lay draped above his head. He knows their hands are going to get sweaty underneath the fabric of Steve's sweater, but he doesn't care right now.

He presses his weight more fully onto Steve, uses his hands to press Steve's into the mattress as leverage. He spreads his legs, knees digging into the bed so he can roll his hips against Steve's harder, still keeping the pace slow and steady.

"Fuck," Steve says on a breath out, keening at the rough way Eddie's cock is sliding against his.

They're breathing the same air, not really kissing, mouths barely an inch apart.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods desperately. He closes the gap between their mouths and licks at Steve's open mouth, his tongue brushing past Steve's lips, tasting him.

His brain is only a little hazy, but Steve's tongue feels hot against his, hot like the embers at the end of the joint they just shared.

He rocks down against Steve faster, picking up the pace, feels the vibration of his moans against his mouth more than he hears them.

He feels the familiar coiling in his stomach, the tightening of his core muscles that tells him he's going to come soon.

He gives into it, huddling impossibly closer, hips moving faster, less controlled than before. He's sweating, his hands on Steve's are damp, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. But he keeps going, he's so fucking close.

"Stevie," he whispers against his mouth.

Steve nods, says back, "I'm gonna come."

Yeah, yeah.

So Eddie releases one of Steve's hands and gets it between them, squeezes Steve through his underwear. He lets Steve jerk his hips up against his hand, chasing his orgasm. He curls his hand around Steve more firmly, hears the curse that falls from his lips.

He bites at Steve's bottom lip, the feeling of his cock riding up against the back of his hand as he gets Steve off overwhelming, Steve's gasping breaths and groans the only thing he can focus on.

Steve lets out a sharp cry and Eddie feels the wet heat of his come seeping through Steve's briefs. He strokes Steve's cock through his briefs, feeling him tremble a little when it gets to be overstimulating.

Steve, having finally weaseled his hands out of his sweater, rubs his hands up and down Eddie's back gently as he comes down.

It's the tenderness, this moment of connection, that has Eddie leaning down and pressing his teeth into the soft skin of Steve's neck.

He's still riding close to the edge and now feeling the satisfaction of making Steve come. He turns his hand over and barely has to put any pressure on his dick before he's coming too, his open mouth pressed against Steve's throat.

He pants through the waves of it, feeling his briefs get stickier and wetter with each pulse.

He's shivering when it's over, the sweat on his skin drying, the come in his underwear cooling.

His hand feels sticky when he pulls it away and he wonders if he'd taste a combination of their come if he licked his palm right now. His cock jerks painfully at the thought.

He rolls off Steve, sated and sweaty, breath still shaky.

Steve reaches between them and laces their fingers together.

"Are we- what are we doing?" he asks, a little nervous, looking over at him.

Steve brings their entwined hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of Eddie's hand.

"Whatever you want," Steve says easily, letting their hands fall between them again.

Eddie steels himself and bites the bullet. "And if I want everything?" he asks, heart in his throat.

Steve smiles shyly at him and squeezes his hand. "I can work with that."

[writing-intheundercroft]

Only You - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5,034

Rating: E (Smut, Oral and Vaginal Sex, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You decide to surprise Sebastian with lunch at the auror office.

A/N: I said I'd do a smutty follow up to The Night Shift, and here it is!

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” Sebastian says, gently guiding you into the elevator.

“I wanted to,” you insist. “You’re always supporting everyone around here–someone has to support you.”

Sebastian gives you a soft, shy smile as the door shuts behind you both. He’s been utterly dedicated to helping you get adjusted to your new daytime schedule, his career taking the backseat in your daily conversations.  The two of you were leaving the courtroom, where several surviving ashwinders were just sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. You knew he was nervous about the Wizengamot trial, having to confront the offenders who’d set up a surprise attack for the aurors all those months ago. Sebastian had recovered quite well in the months that followed, but you’d caught him trembling at the thought of sitting in the stands, identifying each one. Trials had always made Sebastian nervous, knowing deep down that Azkaban had almost been his fate, if not for you and Ominis.

You push that memory out of your mind. Sebastian is now an upstanding member of society, a decorated Auror who you’ve just found out is up for promotion thanks to his heroics.

“Dinner, tonight.  You and me.” Sebastian declares, leaning against the wall. “I’ll pick you up straight from the hospital.”

“I’ll be disgusting.” you remind him.  You’d taken a few hours off to attend the trial, and were already dressed in your uniform to go to St. Mungo’s.  You wouldn’t be off until the late hours of the evening, but it didn’t seem like Sebastian cared.

The doors to the elevator opened and you politely stepped to the side, letting the woman who’d entered step into the center.  As the doors shut, she turns to Sebastian, a saucy grin on her face.

“Sebastian Sallow, it’s good to see you.” she says sweetly.

You immediately frown, taking note of her casualness around him.

“Marlene, nice to see you again.” Sebastian is polite and gentlemanly, keeping his eyes glued to her face.  

She steps towards him, completely ignoring you in the elevator with them. “Glad to have that trial over then?” she asks.

Sebastian lets out a puff of air, nodding gratefully. “Very glad.  Was a nightmare to relive the whole situation.” he admits.  His eyes flit over her shoulder to you, but you pay her no mind–she must be a coworker in the auror office.

To your shock, the woman steps forward towards Sebastian, placing a hand on his chest. “I was so sorry to hear about you and Rebecca.  You know, I still haven’t forgotten about that night–”

Steam was about to pour out of your ears, no pepper-up potion needed.  Mortified, Sebastian pushes her hand away, gesturing to you on the other side of the cab.

“Marlene, this is my…” Sebastian trails off.  The two of you hadn’t quite put a label on your relationship yet.  Despite the time that had passed since your reunion, and the fact that you’d all but moved into his tiny flat, you had yet to call him your boyfriend.

The woman jumps back, blushing. “Oh!  I’m so sorry, Tony had said you were unattached at the moment.”

“It’s nice to see you, Marlene.” Sebastian says quickly, grabbing your hand as the door opens to the ground floor. “I’ll see you around the office.”  he quickened his pace, tugging you out from the elevator.

You yank your hand out of his, brushing your now sweaty palms on the front of your dress. 

“So, Marlene.” You seeth. “A friend of yours?”

Sebastian’s face turns scarlet red, scratching at the freckles trailing down his neck. “Come on, now.” he strains. “We both have histories, we know that.  It was five years, we can’t pretend there wasn’t anyone in between.”

You feel guilt pooling in your stomach; Sebastian is right, after all.  Up until a few months ago, you had an entire fiance–someone you were going to marry, raise children with, spend the rest of your life with.  You also couldn’t lie that there had been men before him.  Imelda Reyes had said it best–the only way to get over Sebastian Sallow was to get under someone else. 

“I at least avoided anyone I worked with.” you grumble, crossing your arms.

Sebastian lets out a low sigh. “You’re right.  It wasn’t the smartest move of mine, but I assure you–you’re the only woman for me.” he says gently, his hands finding your hips through your unflattering St. Mungo’s uniform. “Forgive me?” He pouts.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. For as much as you want to be mad at Sebastian, you can’t resist the puppy dog eyes he gives you anytime you even remotely disagree. Not that there have been many disagreements lately anyways–Sebastian has been nothing but entirely amenable since you’ve returned to his life.  There was only one time you thought you might actually fight over Sebastian littering used teaspoons all over the flat, but he’d more than made up for his behavior by spending the better half of an evening with his head between your thighs.

“Fine.” You purse your lips, hiding the smirk you know Sebastian is searching for. “I’ll meet you outside of the hospital at eight o’clock.”

Sebastian Sallow’s boyish grin will be the cause of your downfall someday, but not today.  His beaming smile and flushed freckles makes your heart beat a little faster, and you feel completely alive.

You walk tentatively into the auror office, clutching the basket of lunch you’d just made for Sebastian.  His favorite–a ham and pickle sandwich on sourdough bread, apples you’d picked up together at the market, and some homemade cookies (Anne’s recipe, obviously–you’re rubbish with baked goods).  After feeling quite homely in your St. Mungo’s uniform, you decide to dress up today.  The move is inspired completely by the way you’d caught Sebastian admiring the dresses you’d moved into his now fully stuffed wardrobe. You’re wearing one he spent a good minute looking over, likely imagining how low the neckline could possibly lay.  You’d swatted him, scolding his cheeky glance, but had decided to wear it anyway after he’d left that morning.

You hear your name over your shoulder; turning around, it’s Everett Clopton, a big grin stretched across his face. His dark curls are tucked behind his ears, sporting his classic gold wire glasses.

“I was wondering when we’d see you here.” Everett bowed his head slightly, hands in his front pockets. “Bringing a snack for Sebastian?”

You blush, gesturing to the basket. “Where is he?” you crane your neck, looking over the office.

“Lucky bugger just got promoted after the trial,” Everett rolled his eyes. “Something about bravery or whatever. Got his own office and everything.  I think he was moving his things in.” 

Even more of a reason to celebrate, you think.  Sebastian had been toiling over the prospect of the potential promotion over the last two weeks, and all of his hard work was starting to pay off.  You thank Everett, sauntering your way over to the door at the end of the hall, a little gold plaque marked S. Sallow on the front.

“Surprise,” you call out cheerfully as you push the door open.  Your smile fades into shock when you see a pretty woman perched on top of the desk, flicking through a box of Sebastian’s belongings.  

Marlene, you remember.  The woman from the elevator.

She smiles at you as she slides off the desk, pressing creases out of her dress. “I didn’t know Sebastian was expecting any visitors.” she says kindly. “And how sweet, you brought him lunch.”

You clear your throat. “I have.  Do you know where he is?” 

Marlene presses her lips firmly together. “Off to the loo.” 

You fidget with the basket in hand. “Right.”

“You two haven’t been together long, have you?” Marlene asks, walking slowly towards you. “I would’ve heard about it, I should think.  Sebastian and I do spend quite a bit of time together.”

You can feel your ancient magic bubbling over with your anger. “Do you?” you spit out.

“Working, of course.  Amongst other things.” Marlene nods, patting your shoulder. “Sebastian can be such a sweetheart,” she purrs. “Yet such a fickle lover, don’t you think?”

You turn on your heel, bolting from the small office.  Tears are pricking at the corner of your eyes; clearly, Sebastian hasn’t spoken about you to his colleagues yet.  It makes you feel quite silly, considering all the other healers in your unit are constantly fawning over the daily flowers Sebastian sends.  Yet you cease to exist in the auror office, with only his two partners and your former schoolmates knowing of your existence.

You could hear your name being called, but nothing could stop your feet from hitting the ground, nearly breaking into a sprint in your effort to remove yourself from the vicinity. Before long, you’re in the main lobby, heels clacking on the black tile as you make your way to the floo flames. Just as you’re about to floo to your own home for the first time in weeks, you run into a solid body.

“I’m so sorry–” you begin, blinking rapidly as you recognize the suit in front of you.  Eyes trailing up, you see a familiar set of eyes, and a smile you thought you’d never see again.

“Hello you,” your former fiance proclaims, his hand on your elbow. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

If there could be awards for terrible days, this one would take the cake.  Not only are you running from Sebastian’s former fling, you’re now faced with the man you utterly destroyed a few months ago. It isn’t a fond memory, but you can recall the distraught look in his eyes as you arrived at his flat in the wee hours of the morning, clutching his engagement ring. He still looks just as handsome as you remember him–dark hair, a well groomed mustache, and bright, sparkling blue eyes that could even rival Ominis Gaunt’s (not that you’d ever let Ominis hear that you’ve made a comparison).  

For as handsome as you find him, his face is still not the one you crave the most.  

“Pet,” you hear from behind, Sebastian gasping for air. “Did you not hear me?”

Great, you think. This makes your day even better.

“Who is this?” Your ex-fiance asks, a slight frown on his face.

You turn to look at Sebastian, who is slightly panting as he puts a hand on your shoulder.  He looks slightly disheveled, his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top unbuttoned.  He looks at you, and then the man next to you, trying to put the pieces together.

“This is Sebastian Sallow,” you gulp. “He was my patient.”

Your ex-fiance gives him a full glance over. “You’re one of those aurors from the ambush, aren’t you?” his eyes narrow. “Freshly promoted by the minister himself.”

Sebastian frowns at him, eyes trailing down to the grip he has on your elbow. “And you are?” he sneers at the stranger. 

Your ex-fiance keeps his hand on your elbow. “Eric McNair. Junior secretary to the minister.” he grits.

Sebastian stands tall. “A pleasure, Eric.  If you don’t mind, the lady and I have somewhere to be.” his hand remains on your shoulder, and you find yourself sandwiched between two men you’ve loved–each for very different reasons, and in very different ways.

“This is him, isn’t it?” Your ex-fiance says flatly.  His blue eyes pierce your soul, clearly in pain.  It’s almost as bad as the way he looked at you when you shoved the pretty red velvet ring box back into the palm of his hand.  You had lied that night, claiming there was no one else that had changed your feelings–it was your fault, not his.  That had only been partly true, considering the freckled bastard beside you had planted the seed of doubt.

“I’m sorry,” You wince. There’s no dancing around the subject, especially with the way Sebastian has his hand curled around your shoulder.

Ever the gentleman, your ex-fiance lifts his grip on your elbow. Bowing his head slightly, he purses his lips as he backs towards the floo flames. 

“I hope you two are happy together,” he says curtly, before disappearing into the green fire.

Taking in a sharp breath, you turn to Sebastian.  He’s looking down at you, slightly stunned. 

“Will you please come back with me?” Sebastian nearly wheezes. “You and I need to talk.”

You nod dumbly, letting him guide you back to the elevator.  The two of you are silent, Sebastian’s hand lightly gripping your gloved hand.  Once you’re back on the fifth floor, Sebastian guides you through the office to his.  Larson is now sitting on Everett’s desk, giving you a goofy wink as Everett complains about his crumbs dusting the tabletop.  You glance sideways, seeing Marlene looking quite frustrated, sitting at her own desk now.

Sebastian shuts the door behind you; the office is still empty, Sebastian’s meager belongings in boxes around the room.  He mutters a quick locking and silencing spell, so that others might not hear you if you decide to argue.

“I wish you’d told me you were coming,” Sebastian huffs. 

You set the basket down on an empty shelf, whipping the gloves off your hands as you rest them on your hips. “So you would know not to have a pretty little coworker sitting on your desk when I arrived?” you snip at him.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” he says bitterly. “I just…I would have made things nicer for you, that’s all.” He’s fidgeting now, which is most unlike him.  

“Do your friends know about me?” You snap at him.

“Everett and Andrew know, but it’s no one else's business. They’re not my friends, they’re my colleagues.” Sebastian argues. 

“Colleagues you’ve slept with,” you retort.

“That’s ancient history, and you know it.” Sebastian declares. “Marlene is a colleague–she’s one of the secretaries in the office, we have to work together.  Besides, it was over a year ago when it happened, and I’ve turned down every advance since.”

“Well, she clearly thinks she still has a chance.” you bite back.

“And what about that man in the lobby, then?” Sebastian argues. “Just a friend of yours? The two of you looked fairly chummy.”

A frown settles into your lips. “Really, Sebastian?  Surely you’re more perceptive than this.”

Sebastian’s frown turns into confusion, and then clarity once he’s put it together. 

“Your fiance?” His eyes widened. “The pencil pusher?”

“Ex-fiance, thanks to you.” you grumble. “And I told you not to call him that.”

Sebastian’s face turns red as he begins to pace around his office.  Now that he knows, his head is surely filled with all the scenes of your past relationship.  Eric was a man you’d known well–well enough that you’ve laughed with him, slept with him, even agreed to marry him. 

Sebastian falls into his chair, blinking at you rapidly. “He looks nice,” he admits.

You are frozen in place, looking down at him and his sheepish face. “A perfectly nice man whose heart I broke.” You echo. “Because like the massive arse I am, I fell back in love with you within five days of seeing you.”

Sebastian holds a hand out to you, and your body reacts instantaneously, feet shuffling towards him.  He hooks his hands behind your thighs, pulling your body close.  Digging his face into your skirts, he grumbles his apology.

“I didn’t even mean for her to be in my office,” Sebastian strained. “She offered to help carry boxes.”

You know he’s telling the truth, but that’s not what’s really bugging you. “She didn’t even know who I was, Sebastian.” you bite your bottom lip. “I’ve told everyone who you are, how important you are to me.  Yet she feels like she can put her hands on you.”

Sebastian looks up at you, his big brown eyes filled with remorse. “What can I do to fix this?” he asks, slightly panicked.

“Tell me what I am to you,” you ask gently, tipping his chin up towards you.

“You’re everything,” Sebastian breathes. 

Ruffling his hair, you roll your eyes. “Be more specific.”

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “Bit juvenile to call you my girlfriend, isn’t it?” He pulls you in tighter, pressing a long, languid kiss to the front of your bodice. It sends shivers up your spine, wishing there were several less layers of cloth between you two.

“You can call me that for now,” you murmur, nimble fingers moving towards his chest.  You give him a coy smile as your fingers start playing with the buttons of his vest. “But I would much rather you change my title sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, madam.” Sebastian’s eyes start roving over your body. He leans back, letting you slip your knee between his legs. You plant your hands firmly on his shoulders, looking down at him.

“I was hoping to see this dress on you soon,” Sebastian licks his lips. “Bend over for me, will you?” 

You roll your eyes, swatting at him. “You brute,” the laugh rolls off your tongue, but there is no hiding how badly you want him.  

Sebastian pinches the fabric of your dress between his fingers, eyes dancing over your decolletage. “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world,” he murmurs. “A promotion, my own office, and my dream girl.” You feel his hands slide around, squeezing your bottom through the fabric. “I’m quite tempted to take you right here, right now.”

It’s indecent, you think.  His coworkers are right behind the door.  But your baser urges drive you to pull away, making quite a show of sitting on his brand new, empty desk.  Sebastian watches you, slack jawed, as you cross your legs, pulling the fabric of your dress over your knees to expose your silk stockings.

“Tempting, you say?” you murmur, uncrossing your legs to show your body underneath the petticoats.

Sebastian launches himself off the desk chair, groaning as he tangles his hands in your hair.  You laugh against his lips as one of his hands trails up your leg, stopping where the lacy edge of your stockings meet your soft thighs. 

“You’re mad, woman.” Sebastian pants. “Only you could drive me to this.”

You bite back a moan as Sebastian’s fingers slide against you.  He gives you the filthiest smile when he feels how wet you are for him–he knows no matter how mad you are, he can reduce you to a trembling mess with his hands.  Always has been, you think.

“I want to hear you beg for it,” Sebastian urges you, curling his fingers inside.  You gasp as he adds a third, clutching onto his shoulder while he gives you the cockiest look you’d ever seen on him.  No, it’s Sebastian who should be begging.  Sebastian who should be quaking beneath you, begging for your forgiveness after the conversation you’d just had.

Even though you whine at the loss of his fingers, you push him backwards.  Sebastian is slightly shocked until he lands into his desk chair, bouncing into the leather seat.  Again, he’s at a loss for words as you surge forward, one hand on the chair back, the other popping the buttons of his trousers.

“What would you call me?” you ask him innocently, brushing your fingers against his clothed cock.

“W-w-what?” Sebastian sputters, looking down at your hand.

You tilt his chin back up to look at you. “What would you say I am to you?” You murmur, sliding your hand under his undergarments, tightly gripping his length.  He feels so soft and smooth, yet impossibly stiff at the same time. “Answer me, darling.”

Sebastian let out a stuttered groan, his head falling back against the chair.  When he doesn’t answer, you lighten your touch; he whines in response.

“You’re my girlfriend,” he moans.

“Hmm, I thought you said that wasn’t good enough.” Your thumb swipes over the crown of his cock, spreading a glistening bead of precum against his skin.

“My lover then,” Sebastian pants, tilting his head down to look at you through darkened eyes.

You smile sweetly at him, slowly kneeling between his legs. “You’ll tell all of your colleagues I’m your lover?”  You keep your eyes on his face as you press a sweet kiss to his tip, and Sebastian might just explode right then and there. “Seems like you’ve had quite a few.”

“The only one I’ve ever loved,” Sebastian moans, patting your hair as you slip your mouth around him, rolling your tongue against his cock. "Only you."

You hum in approval as he chokes out his praise for you, sweet names of endearment for you spilling out of his mouth as you hollow your cheeks.

“Sweet little thing– fuck, the sexiest witch I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Sebastian rasps, looking down at you with pupils blown out in pleasure.  He chokes as he pushes you off of him, blinking while you wipe the saliva from your lips on the back of your hand.

“On the desk,” Sebastian’s voice falters. “Now.”

His mouth crashes against yours as you scoot your bottom onto the desk; Sebastian rucks your dress up to your waist, desperate to reach your hot skin underneath.  Your hands tug his trousers down, palming his round bottom as he groans into your mouth.  You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, wet and throbbing.  Teeth smashing, tongues tangling–you simply cannot get enough of one another.

You’ve had months of sweet love making since your reunion, you think.  The urgent, feral fucking you’re about to receive is quite welcome.

Sebastian wastes no time sinking his length into you, pressing his forehead against you as his breath stutters. Looking up at you through his dark lashes, Sebastian has never looked more beautiful. You wrap your legs around him, allowing as little space possible between your bodies.

“I love you,” Sebastian grunts, thrusting his cock into you.  “ Only you.” The sound of those words coming out of his mouth again has your head rolling backwards. You’re thankful for the silencing charm Sebastian has cast on the door; the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the small office.

“Sebastian,” you moan, falling back against the mahogany desk.  Your hands splay out against the surface, back arching as he rolls his hips just the way you like.  You’re both moaning with every hurried thrust; Sebastian’s hands are wrapped around your thighs, nails digging into the lace edges of your stockings. 

“I love the way you look sprawled on my desk,” Sebastian growls. He leans forward, kissing the tops of your breasts. “You’re a dream come true.”

“Am I?” You gasp, arms thrown around his neck. “Tell me more, Sebastian. Use your words.”

“Don’t think I haven’t been dreaming of this since the night you showed up at my bedside,” Sebastian warns, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours. “Merlin, I want to feel you come around me so badly.”

“What am I, Sebastian?” You murmur, fingers lightly wrapped around his neck.  He’s broadened with age, your small hands barely fitting around his neck.  But in this position, you can feel his quickened pulse, which makes your stomach flutter.  You feel the coil inside of you tighten, waiting for him to say the magic words that will push you over the precipice. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Sebastian rasps, eyes glued to yours. “Always have been. Gonna–I’m gonna make you my wife someday.” he whimpers.

You let out a satisfied cry as you finish around him, hands trailing up to grip his unruly hair at the root.  Sebastian is not far behind you, cursing as he spills his seed inside of you. His hips stutter against you on the edge of the desk, whispering filthy promises alongside the sweet reassurances of your future together.

After a long, passionate kiss, Sebastian pulls away, tugging his pants back up.  You blush, dropping your skirt hem back over your legs.

“Christened my desk,” Sebastian winks cheekily. “I was thinking we needed to, but I wasn’t quite expecting it to take place today.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you slap his shoulder.  You’ll never stop loving him for his attitude, you think.  Sebastian can be so serious, chivalrous and determined.  The next, utterly depraved and passionate.  But underneath it all, Sebastian is filled with laughter and sweetness–something you’d forgotten after five years of trying to hate him.  It’s a sweet reminder of the boy you met when you were fifteen, who’d raced you to Hogsmeade on your first day of classes.  The boy who’d so bravely taken the fall for you when you’d snuck into the restricted section, and had swept you off your feet at sixteen.  

He’s a grown man now, you think.  But he’ll always be that Sebastian in your heart.  And one day, he’ll be your husband–you’re positively sure of it this time.

“Ham and pickle, my favorite.” Sebastian smacks his lips.

You smile at Sebastian as you unpack another box.  After your frenzied lovemaking, you actually started helping him with the task at hand.  His files are now meticulously organized, and you were working on his box of desk trinkets while he sat against the door, tucking into the lunch you’d packed for him.

“Still your favorite,” you remind him, carefully taking out a wooden picture frame.  You thumb over the glass; it’s of him and Anne as children with their parents.  You set it on the corner of the desk, next to the lamp.  There’s another small frame–Sebastian standing next to Ominis and Anne on their wedding day.  It pangs your heart to realize that you missed it, and that you’ll forever be absent in their photos. In fact, there are no photos of you in the box to display on his desk.

“What can I say?  I’m a creature of habit.” Sebastian says with his mouth full. 

“Y’know, I rather think my picture belongs on this desk.” You say, putting your hands on your hips. “I should think I’d get top billing.”

He beckons you; you fall to your knees, shuffling towards him, and you snatch the sandwich out of his hands, taking a large bite for yourself.  Surprisingly, Sebastian doesn’t protest–instead, he dips his hand into his trouser pockets.

“I keep a photo of you a little closer,” he confesses, digging out his wallet.  You remain stunned as he fishes through it, pulling out a creased photograph.  It’s the two of you on your graduation day from Hogwarts; you’re laughing at the camera, pointing at whoever was aiming it (it’s been so long, you can’t remember who).  Sebastian’s eyes remain glued to you, completely ignoring the photographer. It’s the last time you’d ever worn your Hogwarts robes, pointy black hats adorning your head as you both clutched your diplomas.

You swallow thickly, taking the photo in hand. “I can’t believe you still have this,” you murmur.

“One of my favorites.” Sebastian gulps, pressing his lips in a tight line as he tucks you into his chest. “Fished it out of my memory box, right after we got back together.  Should I find a frame for it?”

You feel silly for ever doubting him.  Sebastian has always known what you are to him–no title needed.  Blinking back tears, you look at the brunette, pressing your palm against his cheek. 

“I want you to keep it on you at all times,” you declare. “Right in your pocket, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sebastian purrs, kissing the top of your head. “Perhaps we’ll have a more formal occasion to take photos soon.  Wedding photos, I think.” he teases.

The two of you finish unpacking his belongings, polishing off what remains in the lunch basket.  The hem of your dress is torn from dragging against the splintered edge of his desk, so Sebastian casts a hasty reparo charm on it.  You double check that you’re both decent before opening the door to his office, confidently striding out hand in hand.

It must be late afternoon already, as most of the desks are abandoned.  Marlene’s eyes are glued to whatever file she’s reading, ignoring the two of you.  You smile haughtily to yourself as Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter.

“You two are disgusting,” Everett rolls his eyes. “As if we didn’t know what you two were up to all afternoon.”

“I beg your pardon,” Sebastian scoffs. “The lovely lady was helping me unpack my office.  And that’s no way to speak to your senior officer now, is it?” 

Larson lets out a booming laugh as he pulls on his jacket. “Well, should we all hit the Leaky Cauldron then?  Rest of the office is bound to be there already.”

Sebastian looks down at you proudly. “No, I think I’ll take the missus home.”

You can’t hide the blush on your face when Sebastian looks at you in such a way.  The two of you bid a hasty goodbye to Everett and Andrew as you walk hand in hand to the elevators, swinging the wicker basket.  When the elevator doors close, Sebastian pushes you up against the wall, putting a hand on your waist.

“Speaking of home, I think it’s time we start looking for a bigger one,” he announces. “I’ve found a few listings for new places, considering we’ll have to get a separate bedroom for your clothes. Plus, we should live a bit closer to the hospital for you.”

“Braving the London housing market together,” you sigh gloomily. “The next test of our relationship.”

Sebastian lets out a sparkling laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Pet, after everything we’ve been through, I think this will be an easy task.”

You bite your lip, smiling up at him.  He’s right, you think–nothing these days seems too difficult with Sebastian back at your side.

“I can’t wait.” You admit.  

The doors open, and Sebastian pulls you out into the light.