#and I know for the fact that the writing team is mid

[speedane]

Seeing a handful of people saying "I'd rather have Q than Evil Gaius sorry for shitting on MS1" in various platforms like Q is the only problem in MS1 lol

MS2 though is better than MS1 but the twist needs to be set up better. I would've accepted Gaius being evil if his motive is more aligned to his character although the writers are gonna deal with "then the EU/SD conflict is bullshit now that we know Gaius and Hyde are in cahoots with each other" now... but that's just my two cents

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Reflections - e.e

‣ emily engstler x reader

‣ wc: 2958

‣‣ synopsis: emily had no choice but to bail on your planned day together, so you decide to get a little revenge, leaving your reflection as the only thing on her mind all day.

‣‣‣ a/n: sorry this took SO LONG to release, i was a little nervous to write smut for the first time so hopefully this isn't too bad! i'm still working on more fics and hopefully i can still follow my plan to release one a day!

You adjusted the position of your body in front of the mirror, lifting Emily's shirt to reveal just a sliver of your boobs as you posed for your selfie in your lacy thong. You weren't posing for a social media post or anything of the sort, you were just trying to torture your poor girlfriend a little bit.

The two of you had planned a day-long date today, as she wasn't supposed to go in for practice or any sort of team events, but her coaches had changed their mind, calling the team early in the morning for mid-day practice, followed by a workout session, ice baths and checkups with their athletic trainer, and a film session to end their packed day.

Unfortunately for you, the text had come in during an early morning makeout session, causing Emily to leave the comfort of your bed to eat breakfast, get ready, and head out for her long day. Leaving you a needy, pleading mess for her in the process. You knew the change in plans wasn't her fault, nor was it in her control.

You were just seeking revenge for the fact that she chose to leave you orgasmless before heading out, promising to finish what the two of you had started later in the evening.

Grinning as you finally got the perfect shot, you sent off a text to Emily, containing both the selfie and a short text that read, can't wait for you to get back Em. Now, all you had to do was wait for her response, which you knew wouldn't come until a little later, when she finally got the chance to check her phone during a water break.

To your delight, Emily's response came in sooner than you had expected, not even ten minutes after you had sent the text, your phone pinged with a new text. you better find a way to wait, don't you dare touch yourself without me.

You knew that was one of Emily's "rules", if she wasn't away for a game, your pleasure was hers and hers only. And usually, that was always enough for you, as you had no need to get yourself off either by hand or with any of the toys hidden in your shared closet, Emily was always there to take care of you. But today, you found yourself struggling to hold off on relieving the deep ache that had settled in your core.

You swear you did everything in attempt to pass by the time that Emily was gone. You ate breakfast, dusted nearly every surface in your apartment, wiped down every mirror, scrubbed down the bathrooms, ate lunch, cooked dinner for you two to enjoy later, took an everything shower, and finally settled down in on your bed to watch t.v. around four in the afternoon, knowing Emily would be home before six.

Just as your eyes began to shut, drifting off into a light sleep, you heard the front door open as Emily entered the apartment, dropping the keys in the little ceramic bowl you had bought for the apartment and taking off her shoes, walking towards your bedroom.

You shot up in bed, eager for Emily to walk through the door so you could capture her in your grasp and lure her into bed, finally able to relieve the throbbing between your legs. She greeted you as she entered the room, dropping her practice bag over by the laundry hamper before making her way to you, not that you were paying attention.

You leaned in and grabbed the back of her neck, smashing your lips onto hers the second she was close enough. She climbed onto the bed with you, laying her body over yours as you continued to make out, her tongue intertwined with yours as her hands moved up and down, from kneading your braless tits to squeezing your waist, the two of you just couldn't get enough of each other.

You whined as she pulled away from your kiss, she chuckled before ducking her head down to kiss across your jaw to your ear, "missed me that much baby?" She questioned smugly as she moved her lips under your ear, alternating between sharply nipping at your skin, open mouthed kisses, and soothing licks over the trail of reddish-purple marks she left behind.

"Please Em, don't tease. Been waiting for you all day," you begged, arching your chest into her, hoping she would get the hint. She popped her lips off your neck with a smirk, gazing at your needy expression before moving her hands to pull her t-shirt off your body, uncovering your perky nipples, begging for her touch.

Her lips began a trail of kisses, licking, biting, and sucking her way down from the base of your neck to your chest, leaving hickeys at the very tops of your breast before finally latching her mouth onto your right nipple, her hand coming up to twist and tug at the other.

Your hands flew to her ponytail, gripping it as you moaned at her teasing, urging her head to continue its descent down to where you needed her the most. Thankfully, she continued to kiss down your abdomen, stopping at the edge of your lace thong to nip at the fat of your hips. She continued to tease you, leaving hickeys around the perimeter of your inner thighs as you whimpered the arousal continuing to pool within your panties, yet Emily purposely avoided your throbbing pussy.

“God Em, please I can’t take it anymore, need you so bad,” you propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at her as you pleaded, your mind far too hazy to feel embarrassed of how desperate you sounded. She propped herself, perching herself to the perfect position in between your thighs as she finally ran her fingers up and down your lace-covered slit, feeling the wetness that had begun to soak through.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this baby,” she hummed, “Wanna try something different with you, that okay?” She asked as she pulled your thong down, a strand of your slick sticking to the fabric. "You're this wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet baby," Emily rose to lean back on her knees, moving her hands to rest upon your thighs.

“Please Em, do anything, I just need you,” you whispered back, sitting up as you watched her rise from the bed, walking over to the floor length mirror you had taken the picture in. She picked it up and adjusted it so that it leaned against the wall in front of your bed, such that you were now gazing at your own naked reflection.

Your attention, however, was quickly drawn back to Emily, who had now stripped her t-shirt and sweatpants off her body, leaving her in just a plain black sports bra and a matching pair of boxers. She walked back over to the bed, settling against the headboard and planting her feet flat on the bed to take a seat behind you.

"Come here baby," she requested, and with such a low, sultry tone, how could you resist for even a second? You quickly turned onto your hands and knees, crawling up the expanse of your California king bed to kneel in between her thighs, capturing her lips once again.

You took the chance to tease Emily back a bit, taking control of the kiss by biting and dragging out her bottom lip before slipping your tongue back into her mouth, moaning eagerly into her as your hands tugged at the straps of her sports bra.

She didn't allow you to continue for long, grabbing your waist and manhandling your back into her front before you could take off her bra. She traced her hands down your body, grabbing the back of your thighs to rest them over her bent legs, spreading you open in front of the mirror.

"You see how wrecked you are for me?" She mumbled into your ear, you watched as her tattooed hands kneaded at your hickey covered tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples once again. "Mhm," you nodded, biting your bottom lip to hold back the moans threatening to spill from your lips.

Emily, however, wouldn't accept that as an answer. She grabbed your jaw firmly with her right hand, using her thumb to pull your lip out in between your teeth. "None of that tonight ma, I wanna hear you properly, whether your answering me," she spoke softly, beginning to suck hickeys into the unmarked side of your neck, "swearing," she flicked her tongue out to soothe a particularly rough area, the skin already turning purple, "or moaning my name, begging me for more," she whispered into your ear.

Your brain turned to mush at her words, which meant you didn't notice how her left hand dropped from massaging your breast to reach your cunt as she was whispering filthy things into your ear, turning you on even more. A borderline pornographic moan tore from the back of your through as Emily finally pressed her middle and ring fingers onto your clit, rubbing small circles at first.

You threw your head back against her shoulder as your body arched against her, desperate moans spilling from your lips as your hips moved upwards to search for more friction in her touch. Her right hand wrapped around your waist, holding down your bottom half before she quickly lifted her fingers from rubbing circles on your clit to lightly slapping it, not nearly hard enough to hurt, but the pressure was enough for your head to shoot up at the sparks it sent through your core.

"I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, you stop looking and I stop touching you, okay baby?" Emily insisted, her fingers only moving down from your clit to trace your folds after you agreed, dragging her fingers to collect the arousal dripping from your entrance back up to your clit, this time adding more pressure onto your clit.

Your body squirmed in her hold, your mouth emitting a near constant stream of desperate whines, begging Emily for more. "C'mon ma, tell me what you want from me," she murmured, her breath warm against the bruised skin of your neck. "Fuck me, please Emily, need you to fuck me so bad I," your words were cut off by a guttural moan leaving your mouth as she plunged two fingers into your sopping heat, the prolonged foreplay had made you so wet she slipped in without any discomfort.

Your eyes fluttered, as your body melted into hers, illegible pleas, swears, and cries of ecstasy continuously fell from your lips, all the while maintaining eye contact with Emily through the mirror. Her fingers increasing their speed as she plunged a third into you, continuing to pump in and out of you, curling into you with such precision you preened her grasp, rolling your hips forward to meet her thrusts. In the process, the heel of her palm brushed against your clit, causing you to writhe in her arms, all the while Emily ducked her head down to suck at your sweet spot.

Her name fell from your lips repeatedly, the coil in your abdomen was so close to snapping, you could almost taste how close your orgasm was. Sensing this from how tight your cunt was squeezing her fingers, she moves her unoccupied hand up to your nipples, roughly tugging at them while she moved her lips up to whisper filth into your ear.

"Just like that baby... see how pretty you look while taking my fingers, my dirty little slut getting off on being finger fucked in front of a mirror, thought about fucking you like this all day... such a good girl for me," her continuous praise and encouragements, combined with the sensation of her playing with your tits, her fingers curling so deep inside of you, and her palm providing friction to your clit was all too much for you to withstand any longer.

Your moans turned into near screams as you finally came, your orgasm hitting you full-force as your legs shook on top of Emily's, full body shudders coursing through you as Emily continued to fuck into you at the same pace, insistent on having you ride out the full extent of your orgasm.

As your orgasm finally began to subside, your body going limp against hers, Emily slowed the pace of her fingers until they stilled within you. To distract you from the emptiness she knew you felt as she withdrew her fingers from your soaking cunt, she peppered kisses along the side of your face and placed a few gentle pecks on you lips accompanied with soft praises as you tuned to face her.

She brought her fingers up to your lips, shoving them into your mouth so you could clean off your own slick, humming as she felt your tongue swirling around her fingers. After popping your mouth off her fingers, you removed your legs from on top of hers, twisting your body around in her grip to face her as your hands reached upwards to cup her face, pulling her mouth down to yours in a searing kiss, all the while your knee pressed into her core.

You were acutely aware of the fact that you hadn't even touched Emily yet, and as stubborn as she was, you could feel the throbbing of her pussy against your knee, and you would be damned if you didn't get her off after the earth-shattering orgasm she gave you.

Your lips continue to move roughly against hers, attempting to establish dominance and only separating when you tugged her sports bra over head. Your lips met the soft skin of her neck, peppering gentle kisses as you knew you couldn't leave hickeys on such a visible area just two days before her next game.

You continued placing kisses to her chest, circling her nipple with your tongue as right hand reached down to cup her warm cunt through her boxers, forcing an airy moan from her. You were able to feel through the fabric how aroused she had gotten from making you cum.

You paused your ministrations to retract your hands from her body, moving to grab at the waistband of her boxers, the only material still separating the two of you. You looked up at her glazed over eyes, nonverbally checking for her consent. Emily's past relationships and hookups always had the same dynamic, she gave a lot more than she received, if they even made an effort to reciprocate her pleasure.

With you, that was never the case. You were just as concerned with Emily's satisfaction as she was yours, despite her having the more dominant personality, you almost never allowed her to leave without at least one orgasm.

With her approval and the slight lift of her hips, you discarded her underwear, laying down on your stomach and spreading open her thighs to be eye-level with her glistening cunt. "All this just from watching my reflection Em?" You teased, your breath warm against her inner thighs as you sucked and nipped at the skin closest to her center, knowing no one would be able to see the bruises left there.

"Yeah baby, it's all for you," she breathed our, grabbing your tousled hair into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide you closer to her sopping pussy. Even now, she still Deciding she had waited long enough, you dove your tongue into her, licking a long stripe from her entrance up to her throbbing clit, causing her to throw her head back into the headboard as she moaned deeply.

"Right there ma, just like that," she encouraged as you devoured her, running your tongue through her folds to lap at her leaking arousal like a woman starved. You gather her wetness to move up and press your tongue flat against her clit, sucking and lapping at her bud. "Oh fuck baby, doing so good for me," her hips moving up to meet your mouth.

She groaned loudly as you began to hum against her clit, holding her hips tighter as moved down to her entrance again, dipping your tongue to curl into her as your nose moved against her clit, her orgasm quickly approaching from the friction you provided. You moved back up to her clit, knowing just what she needed to be pushed over the edge.

You latched onto her nub, sucking and slightly grazing her with your teeth, humming and pressing into her as she came with a throaty moan, pushing your head deeper into her to draw out as much of her orgasm as possible.

You continued to suck at her for a few moments after, slowly reducing your touch to a few soft kitten licks as her body went limp against the headboard, relaxing fully as you detached your lips from her, rubbing your hands up and down her thighs.

Her thumb wiped the slick that covered your lips and dripped down your chin, grinning at your wrecked state. “Worth the wait ma?” Her smug but somehow genuine demeanor took in the blissed out expression on your face, exhausted from your previous activities.

“Well worth Em, should mess with you more often if this is what happens,” you beamed, only half joking. “Yea right, try that again and I won’t be so nice next time, I could barely make a single shot at practice,” she grumbled, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips, crawling off the bed to grab a washcloth from your joint bathroom. Your reflection had truly served you well today.

[railingsofsorrow]

I hate you, until I don't

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 

pairing: s.reid x reader 

w.c: 3.6K

warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Coffee] 

Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  

You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  

“Why are you so angry?” 

“I'm not angry.” 

You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  

“Um. Okay.” 

Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  

You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  

By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  

You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  

You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  

You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 

“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 

You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  

“Don't call me honey.”  

Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 

His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 

By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Ambulance] 

“If you had listened to me—” 

“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 

Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  

He does exactly that.  

“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 

You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  

“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 

“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 

“Shut up, Reid.” 

“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 

“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 

“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  

You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 

“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  

However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  

Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Book] 

“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  

You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 

“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 

“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 

“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 

You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 

“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 

“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 

Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“No.” 

You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 

“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 

“I don't have to promise you anything.” 

“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 

You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  

He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 

Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Drunk Confession] 

“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 

Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  

“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 

Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  

“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  

JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  

Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 

“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 

“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 

It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  

And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  

Great.  

“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  

“Be my guest.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 

Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“I just told you—” 

He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  

You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  

“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 

Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 

A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  

He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 

“You would never do that to me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 

“What?” 

He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 

"Oh, it's gonna rain." 

"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 

"Are you nervous?" 

"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 

You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  

“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 

“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 

“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 

Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 

"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 

He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  

"Right." 

How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  

“Are you still thinking about it?” 

Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 

“Why not?”  

He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  

“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 

Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 

Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  

“Did I?” 

“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  

“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 

He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 

“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 

You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 

His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 

“We're here.” 

He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 

“You want me to go?” 

Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 

“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 

“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 

“Are you testing me?” 

You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  

“Why would I be testing you?” 

“To make fun of me.” 

Your eyes narrowed in slits.  

“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 

Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  

You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  

“You're so cute.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 

“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  

"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 

"You're so annoying,"  

"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 

"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 

"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  

You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  

Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  

"What?" 

"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 

"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  

He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 

"Mhm, is that so?" 

He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 

Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  

"Do what, genius?" 

"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  

Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  

"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  

There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  

You don't know which one is worse. 

He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  

"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  

It's not what you get. 

"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  

You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  

"Will you want to stay over then?" 

Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 

You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  

"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  

God, he hates you.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden 

[heesdreamer]

SUNSHINE

PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader

WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol

WC ➩ 5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story

“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”

You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.

Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.

You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.

She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.

Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.

“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”

“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”

Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.

That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.

He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.

“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.

You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.

He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.

Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.

You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.

It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.

You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.

That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.

He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.

Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.

You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.

Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.

“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.

He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.

You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.

“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.

“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”

You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.

He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.

“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.

“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”

A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”

He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.

“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.

“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”

——

You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.

It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.

You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.

Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.

You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.

The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.

You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.

So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.

Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.

He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.

You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.

“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.

He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.

“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.

It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.

You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.

You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.

“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”

A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.

You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.

He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.

“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.

You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.

“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”

“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”

Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.

He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.

“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.

“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.

The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.

Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.

He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.

You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.

“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”

“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”

“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”

Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.

You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.

“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”

You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.

He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”

“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.

You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.

He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.

You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.

He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.

“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.

“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”

“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.

It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.

You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.

You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.

He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”

[halsteadlover]

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Stripper!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: it was supposed to be a case like any other, an undercover operation like a thousand others he had done but when Spencer sets his eyes on that dancer for the first time suddenly everything fades into the background.

• Warnings: brief mention of alcohol, homicide case, nudity, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, sex, use of condoms (ALWAYS WRAP IT!!!), cursing, dirty talk, basically Spencer being a ✨man✨, tell me if I missed anything <3

• Word count: 7.6K

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was written in 3rd person. I had this idea for a while now but didn’t know how to write it but now here we are you have no idea how much time it took 😭 I promise I’m still working on the requests please don’t hate me I’m just trying the find the motivation to write again. I really hope you like this one please let me know what you think and comment, reblog and like ❤️ Thank you for your kindness and constant support xx

Spencer had never felt as uncomfortable as he did in that moment, surrounded by germs and all kinds of bodily fluids.

He was disgusted and couldn’t wait for this to be over soon so he could get out of there.

Damn you, Derek Morgan.

He cursed his colleague for forcing him to go in that damned place. He was in a strip club, pretending to be a normal customer so he could talk to some of the strippers and the head of the club himself about an investigation. The BAU was in fact following the case of a serial killer who lured his victims and killed them.

Since the victims – who were about four – were all affluent straight males in their thirties and there were no traces of drugs or signs on their bodies that they’d been forced to follow the killer, the team assumed the unsub was a female in her mid-twenties.

After digging into their pasts to study the victimology, the team discovered all four victims committed sexual crimes which however had somehow been attempted to be covered up. So there was no doubt those killings were about some sort of justice.

The unsub would kill them by slicing their throats with a single and precise movement, a cut so deep it was easy to say she was an expert. There was no way the four victims were her first ones, but nothing came up after Garcia searched for other murders with the same modus operandi.

After leaving their bodies on the bed of a hotel room, the unsub would also write a short note on the wall with a deep purple lipstick – a particular color – which wasn’t found on the victims’ bodies, so the team thought she wouldn’t wear it, she was carrying it with her with the sole purpose to write those simple short sentences.

The BAU had interrogated the victims of these aforementioned sexual assaults but all of them had airtight alibis so there was no real suspect. After interrogating the victims’ families and friends, they realized there was a common denominator between those four men: the Sinful Lust.

And that’s how Spencer ended up there.

He didn’t understand why it had to be him who had to be in that place. How could they think it’d be a good idea to have him to deal with strippers and people having sex around him?

Anyone could see from a mile away how uncomfortable he felt sitting there, even people who weren’t profilers. Spencer continued to look around, almost dazed by the club’s strobe lights as he tried to mask his disgust at noticing his surroundings and the intense smell of alcohol.

He never hated Derek so much.

He knew it was just his sadistic way of making him feel uncomfortable, despite the encouragement from the rest of the team though who were sure Spencer would make it.

His palms sweated with every passing second as he rubbed them on his black pants before fixing the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t used to wearing these kinds of clothes, he felt caged, in a body that didn’t belong to him.

Every woman in that place wasted no time winking at him, shooting him languid glances to which he responded with a tight and totally false smile. Some of them approached him and he had to fake interest in them by engaged stupid and languid conversations.

He couldn’t help but think about how Morgan would’ve enjoyed that situation and how he wouldn’t have wasted time making all the women in that damn club fall at his feet.

Spencer really envied him sometimes. He envied how his friend was always so easygoing and extroverted, especially with women, with a joke always ready, how he always knew what to say and when.

Suddenly the club lights dimmed and focused on the stage, stopping his rush of thoughts and indicating the strippers were about to begin the show.

Numerous tables and seats were concentrated near the stage, populated by hungry men who couldn’t wait to feast their eyes and spend their money and Spencer noted with disgust many of them were even married.

Poor wives.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding only to gasp again as some music started and the strippers began to dance. He didn’t recognize the music and the words, preferring classical music; however, his mind wasn’t focused on the bass vibrating through the room but on analyzing the scene.

But it was so damn hard when women danced sensually in front of him half naked. It’s a physiological reaction, he kept repeating to himself, it’s normal, focus Reid, do not deconcentrate.

The dim lights only added more tension to the evocative atmosphere, interrupted every now and then by men standing up and cheering to hand over their money they had probably earned with so much effort.

Spencer moved into his seat, picking up the glass of some type of liquor he didn’t know and pretending to sip before placing it back on the table, wanting with every fiber of his being for the unsub to reveal herself.

But he knew it couldn’t be that simple. If killers had written on their foreheads they were actually killers, he wouldn’t even have a job anymore.

He wondered if she was there.

Who knew if she had already chosen her next victim.

Spencer’s eyes met with one of the three dancers on the stage and a vice gripped his stomach when he realized she was already looking at him.

Her hips continued to move sensually to the rhythm of the music as her fingers played with the buttons of the skimpy top she was wearing and for an instant Spencer thought if he wasn’t mistaken or having a hallucination.

But he wasn’t wrong.

Her eyes were fixed solely on him.

She bit her lip as she winked at Spencer, and he almost melted into that chair like snow in the sun. He tried to keep his expression as casual and neutral as possible but in reality, every single cell in his body was on fire.

She turned her body and walked sensually towards the pole and Spencer’s eyes went hungrily and impertinently down her body, making him feel no less dirty than the rest of the men present.

But he couldn’t control himself as his eyes seemed to have a life on their own and he couldn’t take them off her.

His gaze traced every exposed inch of her skin, focusing on her ass covered by a skimpy short skirt, the mere sight of her making his pants tighten around his crotch. His mind began to wander with fantasy, unable to help but imagine his head buried between her legs.

Spencer shifted in his chair dejectedly, resting his hands on his lap and covering his erection as if someone was there to notice. Nobody would’ve noticed, all eyes were on her and the dancers.

He didn’t even look at the other two women on the stage, his eyes was fixed only on her, her hips, her beautiful and smooth legs, on her body that spun with disarming ease around the dance pole.

He wondered what it’d be like to feel his fingers squeezing her hips as she rode him into oblivion and this image alone almost made him come in his pants.

He was totally mesmerized.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but every cell in his body seemed to have lit up and inflamed, his fingers were trembling with desire to slide them over her sinuous body.

But it was when her eyes met his again that Spencer felt the air sucked out of his lungs. He couldn’t quite make out the color, he was too far away to be able to do that, but just the way she was looking at him made him shift in his seat again and his aching dick erect even more.

He was paralyzed, he didn’t dare move a single muscle. He didn’t know why but he was afraid if he moved everyone would find out who he really was. That she would find out.

His eyes never left hers, a small grin painting her face as she continued to dance sensually. Spencer felt arrogant enough to assume this dance was just for him.

The show eventually ended and the lights dimmed in the club again, although Spencer managed to track the silhouettes of the dancers coming off the stage. His heart jumped into his throat when he noticed a person approaching him and not just any person but her.

Spencer’s eyes followed her every movement although the light was so low he couldn’t really make out her beautiful features. He shifted in his chair again and tried to keep his concentration up when a cloud of her scent hit him square in the face, short-circuiting every single neuron in his brain.

This was the perfect opportunity to gather information regarding the case, but at that moment Spencer seemed to have completely forgotten the reason why he was there.

“Come with me.”

That was all she said and even her voice was so sweet it mesmerized him even more, as if it was a siren’s song luring the poor sailors into her clutches. He stood up without even being asked twice, his mind trying to convince itself it was just to gather the information he needed.

At that moment, however, the only thing controlling his body was the blood rushing to his penis and not the rationality that always distinguished him.

She walked through the club ignoring everything around her while he followed her like a puppy, unaware of what was coming and what she was up to. A small, tiny part of his brain kept screaming to be careful, that she was a stranger probably looking for the money – or worse to kill him. He knew he needed to focus on the case but Spencer was too attracted to her to even listen to those voices.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. He would’ve never thought of following a stranger to who knew where without an ounce of information.

They entered a room and Spencer quickly scanned it, deducing it was her dressing room. His attention, however, immediately returned to that woman. Under those lights, he could finally look at her in all her splendor and the air was sucked from his lungs as his eyes traveled along her body and analyzed her face.

She was breathtaking, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t itching to touch her.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice broke the silence. Spencer didn’t respond at first, his eyes focused on her cleavage and the way her chest rose and fell. Only when he brought his eyes back to her face and saw the mischievous smirk on her lips he realized she had said something to him and that he must’ve looked like a complete idiot.

“What?”

She chuckled and that simple sound traveled through his body, causing his blood to rush and his penis to harden even more.

What is she doing to me?

She slightly tilted her head, her eyes vibrant as she watched – no, analyzed – Spencer.

His muscles froze as she took two steps toward him, never taking her eyes off him.

He returned her gaze with a courage he had never had and didn’t even know he possessed. Her eyes were bright but there was something particularly intense about them, something he absolutely wanted to discover and he couldn’t even name.

His breathing quickened and he prayed she wouldn’t realize how intense the effect she had on him was. She looked at him with an intensity that made him weak in the knees, with an intensity that no one had ever looked at him with.

She hadn’t torn her eyes away from his for not even a second, and although that confidence further intrigued Spencer, it scared him at the same time. He knew she was trying to get inside him, into his soul and discover his deepest secrets.

“I asked what you’re doing here.”

“You told me to come.”

She licked her lips and Spencer’s eyes flicked to her mouth, causing him to react in a way that resulted in the further restriction of his pants. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to avoid doing something he’d regret, but damn it was so hard.

This was also the moment he understood the true meaning of the phrase ‘blue balls’.

He was so fucking horny it hurt.

“I’m well aware of that,” she replied with a smirk, probably noticing the way he was staring at her lips. “But don’t act stupid, you don’t look like one. What are you doing here?”

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, using the shred of rationality he had left to think of an answer. But the way she was looking at him, as if she wanted him to take her right then and now, was enough to make him no longer even remember his name.

I’m an FBI agent investigating a murder case and you, like every other dancer here, could be a potential suspect.

He couldn’t say it, but damn it if she kept coming closer to him, he wouldn’t even bother giving her his wallet and bank details.

“What all the men are doing, why don’t you go ask them?”

Well done.

“I’m asking you.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulders with a single but graceful movement of her head, leaving her neck and shoulder exposed. Spencer’s throat bobbed up and down again, his mind filled with images of him sticking his tongue out and licking and tasting her skin, sucking it and leaving marks.

Dammit Reid, get a hold of yourself.

“I’ve been watching you,” she spoke, her tone calm and sensual. “You looked like you were going to vomit when you came in and I know you would’ve never come here of your own free will; so why don’t you tell me the truth pretty boy?”

Fuck yeah keep calling me that.

Why doesn’t it sound so good when Morgan calls me that?

Stop thinking about Morgan.

“There’s a first time for everyone, don’t you think?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

She bit her lower lip, a gesture that made him feral.

Please somebody help me.

It was only then she took her eyes away from his and let them wander slowly along his body.

She studied and analyzed him and with every inch that passed under her eyes Spencer felt his skin catch fire, especially when her gaze focused on the huge bulge in his pants.

The beautiful stranger brought her eyes back to his and Spencer didn’t miss that lustful glint in them and the way her breathing had quickened, indicating she was as affected by him as he was by her.

“What’s your name?”

“David,” Spencer replied, congratulating himself on the way he had managed to control himself and not give away his real name.

“David,” she repeated, slowly, as if wanting to taste what his name felt like on her tongue. She took another step, closing her distance and her scent hit his nostrils. It was a mixture of vanilla, coconut, innocence and sin and he was going crazy.

“I’ll pretend you don’t think I’m that stupid, David,” she winked and Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat for the third time, trying to keep his breathing to a normal pace even though his heart was pounding wildly inside his rib cage.

They continued to look at each other for an almost infinite time, the air more tense and warmer with each passing second. Spencer tried to think of something to say, anything, but the way she looked at him paralyzed him. His eyes roamed and traced the lines of her lips imagining what it’d be like to feel them pressed against his, what it’d be like to feel them wrapped around his dick and just the thought almost made him come in his pants.

I can’t do this anymore.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear her. Spencer had the impression she wanted to say anything else, but she had refrained from doing it, like if she had opened her tightly closed lips she would’ve told a terrible secret.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he replied, taking his hand out of his pocket and bringing it closer to her face. His fingers played with a lock of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, it was as if his body was acting on its own and had completely disconnected from his brain. Her breathing quickened at that contact and that time he was the one to smirk. “What’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t tell me yours.”

“It matters to me. And I did, it’s up to you to believe me or not.”

She cocked one eyebrow up. “Why does it matter?”

“I want to know whose name I’m going to moan when I’ll think of you with my hand around my dick.”

Spencer almost chocked on his own words.

What the fuck?

Again, what the hell is wrong with me?

What was he doing? What was going through his mind? He completely lost his mind but he didn’t care, not when she looked at him like she wanted to tear him apart and burn him right then and there. And the worst thing was that he probably would’ve let her do it without objecting.

He could see the way she was holding back, the way she tried to appear casual but after all it was his job to know what people really felt, what they thought. He knew it from the way her pupils were so dilated they covered almost all the color of his irises, from the way her skin was flushed and the redness on her cheeks, from the light layer of sweat covering her forehead, from her rapid breathing, the stiffness of her muscles, from the way her hands clenched into two fists as if she was leveraging on herself to not let go.

But why?

Spencer wasn’t an expert in that world, but he really thought she’d try in any way to get some money, to seduce him and then leave him broke, but then why did she hold back? Why was she rejecting him? Why did she ask him to come with her if she wasn’t trying to do anything?

In other moments he would’ve investigated more but in that instant everything had taken a step backwards, Spencer didn’t seem to be focused on anything other than putting his hands on that stranger who was hypnotizing and bewitching like no one else ever did. He had never felt anything like this, being consumed by the desire to kiss her, touch her, run his tongue over every inch of her body, he never felt that raw and primordial desire to have someone.

And he wanted her.

Fuck the consequences.

“You don’t really want this,” she whispered and it didn’t take a profiler to figure out that she wasn’t sure of those words either. It was Spencer who closed the distance between the two that time, feeling the heat of her body envelop him and attracting him like a moth to flame, as every part of her skin was screaming to be touched by his fingers. Her words repelled him but the way she looked at him said something else.

“Why did you ask me to come here then?”

Her eyes looked at him with a look that even him couldn’t decipher. She was hiding something, she was battling herself and he wanted to know why.

“You don’t belong in this place.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know…” she whispered as her gaze kept alternating between his eyes and his mouth. He wet them with his tongue, pleased when he saw the way her breath hitched.

“I just couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

Spencer may not be very experienced in the women’s game, but he could see the passionate hunger in her eyes, that glimmer of lust and desire that left him breathless.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes.”

Those two single whispered letters were enough for Spencer to destroy what little shred of control he still possessed. Before he knew it his hands were cupping her face and his lips were pressed to hers in a searing, electrifying kiss.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him, he couldn’t even recognize himself at that moment. As her mouth devoured him and her tongue tasted his, he couldn’t let go of the feeling he was watching everything as if he was an outside observer, like he wasn’t the one commanding his actions.

He couldn’t believe what was happening, that he – the man who was terrified of even shaking hands with strangers for fear of germs – was kissing that beautiful, sexy stranger who had invaded his senses ever since she set her feet on that stage. And to be honest he didn’t even care, Spencer was only focused on the world in which she was devouring him.

Their tongues intertwined in a sensual dance as their deep breaths and sighs blended into each other. There was nothing sweet about that kiss, about the way he fisted his hands around her hair, the way she had her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, the saliva mixing. It was animalistic, raw, sloppy, messy, a kiss so deep they felt their soul being sucked out of their body.

The tension and electricity in the air was clearly palpable as time seemed to stop around them, leaving them engulfed in the fire of passion and making them both forget who and where they were.

While Spencer’s hands roamed along her body, squeezing and groping every inch of her skin he could reach, sucking in and swallowing every sigh that escaped her throat, he no longer thought he was an FBI agent who was there because he had a job to do.

And even his name was forgotten as her fingers began frantically unbuttoning his shirt, her fingertips leaving fiery marks on his skin as they slid down his chest. They both began taking slow steps, their mouths continuing to devour each other and only breaking away when Spencer’s legs touched the sofa in the dressing room. He sat with his legs apart and a very painful erection in his pants, his gaze on fire while his hungry eyes analyzed and looked with meticulous attention at the stranger.

Never more than in that moment was he grateful to his eidetic memory, because he knew he would never forget that divine image in front of his eyes. Her breasts, legs, hips, her waist, everything seemed to scream to be touched and worshiped and Spencer couldn’t wait to do it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered more to himself than to her, his hands resting on his thighs as he continued to let his gaze wander down her body.

She smiled and Spencer almost fainted. And it wasn’t a mischievous grin but a real smile, one of those that weakened the knees and made everything more beautiful and brighter. One of those he’d never forget.

He took her hands and pulled her towards him making her sit on his lap, her legs tightly straddling his thighs. He groaned as his hard dick collided with her core, relieving that feeling of pressure and pain even if for just a few seconds.

Before he could say or do anything she had pressed her lips on his again, starting to sensually move on him, shamelessly grinding herself and unleashing obscene sighs from both of them that sounded like they were coming from a porn.

Spencer’s hands cupped her ass, pressing his fingers so hard into her skin as he followed her movements while her hands instead continued to roam his chest, her nails pressing into his skin until she leaves red marks on it.

“Fuck I want you so bad,” she breathed into his lips and he let out a particularly loud groan when she bit his bottom lip, sucking it. Her lips parted from his, leaving wet kisses along his jaw, down his neck, sucking, biting, nibbling at his skin.

Any trace of whatever indecision she felt was gone and he couldn’t control himself anymore. His body seemed to move automatically. Lust and desire had clouded his mind, that sublime mind that had done everything to prevent these moments from happening but that had given into the most primitive of instincts. Sex.

His hands went up to the skimpy top she was wearing, ripping it off without even thinking twice before dropping the broken material on the floor, soon joined by her bra as well. His hands cupped her breasts, teasing and pinching her turgid nipples that so recalled his mouth.

Spencer obeyed that wish, wrapping his lips around one of her breasts sucking it while he continued to grope the other. Her hands threaded through his hair, curling into fists and pulling, causing another groan from Spencer. He didn’t even know he was into this. His hips jerked up, continuing to grind against her for some relief.

“Please…” He let go of her breast, throwing his head back and fearing he’d explode right then and there. He wanted to know that stranger’s name, he desperately wanted to moan it and he equally desperately wanted to tell her his, just so he could hear it screamed by her beautiful mouth as he fucked her. “I’ll come in my pants if you keep doing this.”

She giggled and this was a further shock to Spencer, who thought he was going to have a heart attack at any moment. Her hands fumbled with his belt, undoing the button and pulling down the zip of his pants. He let out a sigh of relief when, after slightly lifting his hips, she lowered his pants along with his precum stained boxers, finally releasing his erection.

“Shit…” he hissed a curse through gritted teeth as her hand wrapped around his dick. It started to move up and down with it and he closed his parted lips as he tried to suppress his moans. His eyes were glued on that stranger’s hand who gave him pleasure, a vision he’d never forget. Her hand was so delicate and perfect, in stark contrast to the sinful and dirty action she was doing.

“Don’t hold back, I want to hear you moan for me, okay?”

Spencer met her gaze and nodded, not trusting his own voice. She lifted herself from his lap and knelt between his spread legs and if Spencer hadn’t already been sitting down, the mere image of her on her knees with her hand wrapped around his dick would’ve made him fall to the ground.

“Is this okay?” She asked and Spencer found himself nodding again, this time with so much enthusiasm that she chuckled.

“Yes please…” he breathed as she continued to masturbate him, alternating fast and slow movements and making him lose his mind even more, if that was even possible. Her thumb drew imaginary circles on his red, wet tip, making him gasp against his will.

He placed a hand on her cheek, her skin hot against his palm, his thumb caressing her lips. His breath hitched in anticipation when she wrapped her lips around his thumb, her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as she sucked on his fingertip. “I’m dying to have this pretty mouth around my dick, do you want to show me what it can do?”

Spencer had no clue where this confidence was coming from, but he was too horny to think about shyness and what to say.

She let go of his thumb and stuck her tongue out before tracing the shaft of his penis with a single, excruciatingly slow lick from the base to his tip. He let out a deep, loud groan, throwing his head back as he felt his silky skin against her tongue. It was an aphrodisiac sensation and if Spencer was to believe in heaven and an afterlife, her mouth would definitely be his.

“Shit just like that,” he moaned as her tongue drew imaginary circles on his tip, sucking and taking away every trace of precum. His soul nearly left his body when she encircled his tip with her lips, sliding his length into her mouth until his dick hit the back of her throat.

She placed a hand on his bare, hairy thighs, dragging her nails across his skin as if to draw his attention to her and Spencer granted her wish, lifting his head and looking down at that sin dressed as an angel who was sucking his dick.

Fucking hell I don’t even believe in angels.

It was immoral, the most unethical thing he could’ve done, something for which he could’ve even be kicked out of the team but Spencer couldn’t care less, not when that mouth was sucking him like her life depended on it and making him feel a pleasure he couldn’t even think was possible to feel.

“You’re so good little angel,” he praised her, placing a hand on her head threading his fingers through her hair and a little spark lit up in her eyes. She definitely had a praise kink. “This mouth will be the death of me.”

She hollowed her cheeks, picking up the pace as her head bobbed up and down and her tongue licked circling his dick. Spencer felt like he was already one step away from exploding in her mouth, but he didn’t want to come, not before being buried deep inside her. “Dammit… Stop, stop, I don’t want to come yet.”

He cupped her face pressing his lips to her swollen, wet ones while simultaneously pulling her on his lap again. He kissed her as if he wanted to suck her soul out of her body, resting his hands on her smooth, bare thighs as his fingers pressed into her skin, teasing her but never touching that magical spot where Spencer couldn’t wait to sink.

“For fuck’s sake touch me,” she hissed impatiently pulling on the young man’s hair, earning a small grin from him.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her neck, inhaling deeply that scent he knew would torment him for the rest of his life, that scent that drugged and marked him in the span of very few seconds. His thumbs kept drawing circles on her inner thighs, dangerously close to her pussy as she squirmed under his touch and Spencer was loving every single shred of the desperation she showed.

She wanted him.

She wanted him desperately.

Spencer never had someone who wanted him so badly, sure he had his experiences with women – albeit very limited ones – but he had never felt anything so deep, animalistic and visceral. He had never had any woman looking at him with that fire in her eyes, as if he was the only man who existed for her, as if he was everything she wanted, as if she could die at any moment if he didn’t give it to her.

But that stranger did.

And damn it felt so good.

“Please, I want it… I want you…” she cried out in an impatient and desperation tone and that was music to his ears. If there was some divine entity Spencer thanked it for making her wear a miniskirt.

His fingers slipped into her panties, moaning to himself as he felt the amount of fluids wetting her pussy. “So wet… You’re going to kill me, you know that right?”

She didn’t answer, she threw her head back while Spencer looked at her with hooded eyes and one of his fingers wasted no time in penetrating her. Her hips moved in rhythm and he trembled with anticipation, imagining her walls squeezing his dick.

“Fuck yes…” she moaned loudly, her hands in Spencer’s hair as he inserted a second finger inside her, watching her reaction and how her body writhed in pleasure.

“You’re so tight little angel, I can’t wait to be buried deep inside this wet pussy,” he murmured with pleasure before taking one of her breasts into his mouth, too temptingly as he sucked and licked it. His other arm went around her hips, holding her in place and keeping her from squirming away. “How many of them did you let fuck you mmh? How many have made you feel this way?” He licked her chest, her collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach before he began torturing her other breast.

“No one…” she breathed, unable to finish her sentence due to her heavy panting and moaning. Her thighs were shaking, her hands gripping his hair. “Nobody… Holy shit…” She trailed off again, her body contorting forward if it wasn’t for Spencer’s arm holding her and he knew his fingers had hit her G-spot.

He actually had no idea what he was doing or how to move but he was an attentive observer. His eyes glued to her studied with careful attention every single breath, the intensity of her moans, the way her muscles trembled, the way her pussy clenched, the way she held him, studying her body and quickly adapting to her reaction.

“Oh God yes, yes, you’re so fucking good keep going…” she cried out and then looked down at him. Her thumb traced his lips and – just as she had done earlier – he wrapped them around her finger, sucking on it as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her. Her walls clenched his wet fingers and if the vision of her coming over them didn’t make him lose his sanity, then he didn’t know what else would.

Spencer left her no room to catch her breath or strength after her orgasm.

“Open.” He ordered, bringing his fingers that until a few moments before were inside her, close to her lips. She didn’t hesitate to lick Spencer’s wet fingers clean, making him dizzy as her eyes watched with adulation and lust at the way his tongue sensually moved her fluids. “Yeah little angel, just like that.”

He was going crazy. He seriously thought his vessels were going to explode from how horny he was.

She let go of his fingers and sloppily kissed him, making him taste her juices on her tongue. “Fuck what are doing to me…” She whispered and something told Spencer she didn’t mean to say those words out loud.

“If you think I’m anywhere near done with you, you’re completely wrong,” he murmured against her lips. “Show me how a good girl you are and sit on me, let me see how this pretty pussy soaks my dick.”

Good job Dr Reid.

I’m really proud of myself.

“And here I thought you were a virgin,” she chuckled before getting up and taking a condom from one of the drawers in her closet, but not before taking off her panties. She settled down by straddling his thighs again before slipping the condom onto his painfully hard dick. She lifted her pelvis and wrapped her hand around Spencer’s dick, letting herself be penetrated until she found herself completely sitting on it. “But I know behind this cute pretty face you’re so dirty, filthy enough to fuck a stripper whose name you don’t even know.”

Spencer clung to every ounce of strength in his body to concentrate on anything other than the warm, wet walls of that stranger’s pussy or he would’ve come instantly.

He had even forgotten how good it felt to have sex after so long and remembered why people were so obsessed with it, why his team pestered him to get laid.

Her pussy engulfed him so perfectly it seemed to have been made just for him.

“You feel so good god…” she breathed out a moan interrupting her sentence as she slowly raised her hips and lowered herself again. Spencer couldn’t control a deep groan as she continued to tease and torture him with that slow motion, rolling her hips on his dick.

Spencer’s fingers found themselves on her ass for the second time, groping and spreading her ass cheeks trying to maintain control but it was so damn hard when all he wanted to do was fuck her brains out of her head.

“F-faster… You’re torturing me…” he panted brokenly, his chest quickly rising and falling as if he was running a marathon.

Instead, she kept going with her slow, destabilizing pace, lifting her hips again and slowly lowering herself on his raging dick, torturing him further as the sounds she let out filled the room. Those alone would’ve been enough to make him fall into the void and never be able to get back to the surface.

“Beg me.”

“Please, please… Make me feel good little angel, make me come,” he obeyed, not caring about sounding pathetic. The smirk that formed on her lips was the manifestation of the most pure form of sin, a sin for which there was no absolution or redemption.

Luckily Spencer didn’t even believe in these things.

But if there was a definition of heaven and hell, if they ever existed, it would’ve been her.

Her and those eyes that looked at him like they wanted to capture what was left of his soul, those eyes that would’ve made Spencer thrown himself off a cliff if she had asked.

Her and those hands that held him and touched him, causing him sensations he didn’t even know the meaning of, and this said something for a person who knew the meaning of every single word written in the dictionary.

Her and her deadly mouth that continued to kiss him until there was no air left in his lungs, her teeth biting him, her tongue licking his skin and sucking his tongue.

Her and those moans and gasps she couldn’t hold back and that Spencer was absorbing one by one, imprinting them in his memory so he could repeat them again and again.

“Look at you, aren’t you a desperate little thing? So hungry for me,” she sensually whispered in his ear and biting his earlobe. Fulfilling Spencer’s wishes, she began to increase her pace, placing her hands on the back of the couch for support.

Nothing resounded except their moans, pants, grunts mixing with each other, the sound of their skin rubbing and flapping and their lips smacking with each kiss with the smell of sex, sin and prohibition filling their nostrils.

Spencer’s eyes were glued on her, on her parted lips and her head thrown back, her eyes half closed, her tits bouncing in rhythm with her thrusts which he didn’t waste time taking into his mouth and sucking them, biting the nipples until they were numb.

She fisted Spencer’s hair again, pulling it and forcing him to tilt his head back to look at her. That gesture made him grunt and aroused him even more than he already was, and his hips twitched against her, giving a particularly deep thrust that made her curse.

“I can see how you’re holding back pretty boy,” she sighed, continuing to ride him but slowing her pace this time causing a pathetic cry to escape his lips. She kept brushing her lips against his without kissing him, with the sole aim of torturing him and driving him crazy. As if she hadn’t already done it. “Don’t hold back, I can see how much you want to ruin me, how much you’re dying to destroy me.”

“Fuck.” He cursed and something snapped inside him.

He thrusted his hips so deep into her she choked out a moan and he was sure she felt it in every corner of her pussy. His long fingers continued to press into the red, heated flesh of her ass holding her still while he jerked his hips forcefully, taking command even though she was still on top of him.

His dick kept pushing in and out of her, engulfed by her pussy as it tightened around him. Spencer knew how fundamental the importance of using protection was, especially with strangers, but he wished he didn’t wear that damn condom so much, so he could feel every wet corner of her around his dick.

“Oh fuck yes… Just like that,” she loudly moaned and he was sure that by now everyone had heard what was going on in that dressing room but had chosen to ignore it.

Spencer didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He needed to come but he didn’t want to, he didn’t want this to end.

That’s why he made her get up off him, earning a confused expression before flipping her onto that couch and laying on top of her. He opened her legs and positioned himself between them. He left her no room to say anything as he aligned his dick with her entrance, penetrating her in one motion.

Her legs encircled his hips, her heels pressed against his skin as he fucked her on that couch like his life depended on it, with hard, deep thrusts that made her eyes water.

He had completely lost control.

His hand went around her throat, a gesture that happened spontaneously and that Spencer didn’t even realize until he saw the smirk and expression of pure ecstasy on her face.

How long has he been into choking?

That damn woman would be his downfall.

“Is this what you wanted?” he groaned, his fingers tightening sideways around her throat, being careful not to press on her windpipe. Some strands of hair fell in front of his eyes but she removed them, almost making him faint at that sweet gesture, in stark contrast to the animalistic way in which they were fucking.

“I knew there was a little devil inside you pretty boy, God you’re so fucking sexy,” she gasped, biting hit lower lips and making him increase his pace. “Yes, yes, yes I’m going to come… Keep going fuck yeah…”

His thrusts were deep, messy and although he tried to keep himself from coming, wanting to prolong that feeling of ecstasy as long as possible, it was impossible as her pussy kept clenching around him, moaning “I’m coming” in his ear so sexily it made him come. Spencer exploded and with one last thrust he let himself go into a mind-blowing orgasm that made his body tremble and his eyes blind for a few moments as he poured all his sperm inside the condom.

There were a few moments of silence, broken only by the panting and deep breathing of the two as they caught their breath.

After the ecstasy of the orgasm, Spencer stood up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that she too was trying to get up but her still shaking legs prevented her from doing so. He tried to hold back a smirk, giving her a hand and helping her to get on her feet before earning a feeble “Thank you.”

What the fuck did I just do?

I just had sex with a stripper who could be a potential witness/suspect while undercover.

I’m so screwed.

He realized the enormous mistake he had just made, not even imagining the consequences. He thanked no one in particular for not having worn the microphone or, holy shit, that would’ve been difficult to explain.

Spencer didn’t say a word and he was grateful that she didn’t either, too dazed and groggy to be able to face a conversation.

They both cleaned up in silence and after throwing the condom in the bin, Spencer tried to tidy himself up, tucking his shirt into his pants after buttoning it.

His profiler nature, however, couldn’t help but notice the way how her demeanor completely changed, going from that sexy vicious woman to a silent shy one. She hadn’t so much as glanced at him, he noticed how her shoulders were tense while she moved frantically as if she was trying to vanish from that dressing room as quickly as possible.

She was nervous.

But why?

“You still haven’t answered my initial question, you know?” Spencer broke the awkward silence, before he could stop his tongue.

Damn it Reid why do you want to complicate things so badly?

She turned her head towards him, looking at him with a confused expression trying to make up her mind.

But then a small smile spread across her features before she closed her backpack and placed it on her shoulder. “No one’s been lucky enough to get in here,” she replied, effectively giving the answer Spencer was looking for and for some strange and absurd reason he believed her. “Or unlucky, depending on your point of view.”

Before he could answer she gave him one last glance and left the dressing room. He was supposed to be relieved, there would be no question he couldn’t answer – especially after she realized David wasn’t his real name – but for some reason he couldn’t let go that sinking feeling in his stomach.

He was good at analyzing other people’s emotions, every facet and change of expression, but he wasn’t as good with himself.

He was tempted to follow her, at least to know her name, to find out who the woman who had fried his brain was, but before going out he noticed a small object near the door, probably fallen from her backpack before she went out.

He knelt to pick it up from the ground, but his blood froze in his veins and his heart stopped beating for a millisecond when he realized what the object was.

It was a purple lipstick.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16

Spencer Reid tag list: @blorp-bee, @novabckly, @thebejeweledwatercat, @mamapussyfart, @just-a-harmless-patato, @multifandomlover01, @lunepoesie

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Ask link 💭

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

[sometimesanalice]

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites. 

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.  

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him. 

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

 Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself. 

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them.  The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day. 

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back. 

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.” 

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now. 

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. 

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins. 

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head. 

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you. 

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat. 

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.” 

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table. 

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse​ @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes​

[alexiapp]

𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐭𝐜....𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐧𝐢

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had strong feelings for Lucy and were always indecisive, maybe lucy didn’t like you…or maybe she 𝐝𝐢𝐝.

I’m back. I’ve been really busy and now i have the time to write one shots so drop request. I’m a little disappointed with how this came out but Enjoy !! x

You and Lucy formed a close bond, epically when she transferred to Barca.

You’ve, always admired her as a friend, player, and person.

She was always there for you, always there cheering you on.

Like her you were also there for her when she needed someone most, epically when England lost the Spain in the world cup, you were there to comfort her and give her words of reassurance.

She had a very flirty personality, that’s another thing that drawn you to her.

The confidence, determination, and her cheekiness just did it for you.

You walked in the locker room bag in hand. greeting everyone.

“Hi Ale” you said waving at her with a grin.

She said hi back which soon brought you two into a conversation.

Without realization Lucy had entered the locker room walking in with Ona.

The blonde in front of you stopped mid conversation, and raised her hand giving a wave to the pair that walked in.

With that action, you turned your head wondering who she was waving at.

When you spotted the two, your heart immediately sunk. You couldn’t fathom the hurt you felt. Most of the team noticed how close the two have been recently. The people online have been talking also. Speculating that the two were an item, and of course you noticed. You just never thought to find out if it were true or not. After seeing there interactions you came to your own conclusion that they were in fact dating

Everything hurt, the fact that if they were really dating why hadn’t the older woman tell you, and also your strong feelings you had for her. Lucy’s been spending more time with the Spaniard woman, she became more distance and cold. Therefore you assumed that she set boundaries due to priorities in their affair making you think that you were a problem.. You didn’t know that part for sure but deep down you didn’t want to know.

Tears welled in your eyes, you felt a familiar knot sensation in your throat. You cleared your throat sniffling a bit.

You turned to look at Alexia, as you caught her gaze already on you, studying your face and expressions.

Your captain knew you to well, the way you used to look and interact with Lucy, gave her all she needed to know. She knew you liked Lucy.

She brought her hand on your shoulder and spoke up “Do you want to talk about it ?” she said in a hushed tone.

“What is there to talk about Ale ? there’s nothing i can do anymore” you said in a hurt tone. You shrugged it off and walked away.

You sat down to put your boots on. You felt the presence of someone coming and siting down beside you.

The raven haired woman in-fact sitting beside you putting on her boots and tying them, with a cheeky smirk on her face looking at you.

“What ?” you said in a sharp tone, it might’ve came out as harsh “Hey are you alright ?” Lucy now said in a concerned tone catching the attitude you had. It wasn’t the usual version of yourself that she knew.

You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff “Yep, all good” you said in a condescending, tone keeping your response dry and brief.

When you finished up you walked out of the tunnel onto the field ready for practice.

Lucy was confused by your answers recently, she wondered why you were upset, she was worried she did something wrong.

She met Alexia’s gaze as she saw the interaction between the pair usually there’s a lot of talking between you and her, and a lot of flirting but there was barley a conversation between the two of you.

She gave her a half smiled and walked off following you.

You guys went through drills you ended up partnering up with Alexia. Usually you worked with Lucy but after the interaction in the locker room between the pair you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder all practice.

You didn’t think she noticed since she looked like she was having fun with Ona but in actually fact that was the opposite of what she was thinking..

You guys ended up having a scrimmage and you ended up being on the same team as Lucy.

When she helped you assist a goal, you didn’t bat an eye. The happy close pair was no more and some people took notice of the separation between you to.

This slowly started to irritate the raven haired woman. She was wondering why you were being so cold and distance and snappy.

Practice soon ended, you were adamant to get home and away from everything.

You got changed and rushed before anyone could approach you about your weird closed off behavior today, you weren’t in the right mind frame to explain yourself or be interrogated.

Fast forward to you being home sitting down eating ice cream watching tv, as you headed to the kitchen to wash your bowl you were interrupted by a knock.

With a confusion look on your face you opened the door.

You were met with Lucy’s face, “Um, can i help you ?” you said in a blunt tone.

“What’s up with you, why have you been ignoring me?!” Lucy said frantically barging in.

“ Listen Lucy, it’s late and i’m sure you have people to see-“ you were cut off when Lucy said “Is that what it is ?” Lucy said frantically, “Lucy seriously-“ you were quickly cut off by a pair of lips.

She kissed you ?! You were in shock. You pulled away immediately. “Luce what are you doing you have a girlfriend” you said in shock, shoving her away from you lightly . “What are you talking about ?”. she looked confusingly.

“Aren’t you and Ona dating?” you said raising an eyebrow.

“oh my god did you seriously think me and Ona were dating” Lucy said now chuckling lightly. I nodded my head in response. “Is that why you’ve been distance with me?” She said.

“I only wanted to respect your relationship, and you can’t blame me..from the outside looking in it looks like a relationship but i guess I was wrong” you said in embarrassment this had to be worse then receiving rejection from her.

The raven haired woman could tell you were embarrassed, she then walked up towards you and placed her hands on rose of your cheeks. She rubbed her thumb upon your features.

The older woman brought her lips onto yours. The kiss soon started to get more needy, and harsh.

Lucy, was kissing you like she was needy for more. She had one hand on your waist keeping you steady.

The kiss started to get more intense. She quickly pulls away and reaches for the bottom of your long shelve top. Pulling the top off. Her eyes roaming your body with an intense gaze she stoped at the sight of your cleavage.

The raven haired woman brings her lips to your neck sucking and biting harshly making you let out a quiet yelp.

You slowly tried pushing at Lucy’s chest in protest.

“L-lucy let’s go to the bedroom at least ” You said breathing heavily. Lucy had a smirk on her face. She quickly went up to you, grabbing you she let out a soft“jump” making you jumping wrapping your legs around her waist as she guided you to your room.

The older woman plopped you on your bed. she stood hovering over your laid down body with dilated pupils. 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 she’s so hot you thought. she slowly started crawling on top of you reaching eye level over your face.

She brought her lips to yours, and you brought your hands to fist the end of her shirt. Loud and wet kisses echoing throughout the room.

You bit the bottom of her lip pulling away. You let our a shaky breath “Lucy, take off your shirt” you said breathing in and out loudly. Lucy quickly pulled her shirt off abs and sports bra on display, making you bite your lip at the sight of the attractive woman. She let out a light chuckle. She brought your hand towards her strong abdomen making you touch it. She flexed her abdomen at the touch, throwing her head back in pleasure teasing you.

You let out a light whimper and said “Please lucy” you said breathing heavily due to arousal. “Please what? use your words like a big girl” She said in a stern tone. “Please make me feel good Luce” You said your eyes hooded in pleasure.

The hazel eyed woman nodded, she slowly kissed your neck harshly. She felt around your chest. She ripped your bra down the middle. “Lucy !” You said in shock, “It’s fine i’ll get you another one or something…” She mumbled off. To be fair it was a thin piece of fabric.

Before you could even said anything The brit found the one spot on your presser that drove you crazy. Making you moan loudly. Lucy slowly moved her kisses down to your breast popping one her mouth. Sucking on your nipple and biting a little and using her hand to rub your other nipple. Bringing a new found wave of euphoria.

You brought your hands to her hair scratching

her scalp with your fingernails, arching your back in pleasure. Lucy brought her hand to your stomach pushing it down to the bed looking up at you in disbelief.

“Fuck i’m going to make you feel soo good love” She said in a husky voice. She slowly got up from the bed pulling down her pants and boxers down in one swift motion.

You look down in shock being met with a strap-on. Did she plan this ? You thought to yourself. You had wide eyes still looking down.

Lucy brought her finger to your chin lifting your chin up to meet her eyes. “Get on your knees for me” She said in a hushed tone. You quickly listened.

The raven haired woman stood in front of you looking down at you. “Suck” she said briefly. “W-what?” you said with not so much confidence. “I said suck. Did I stutter” She said raising one eyebrow, You quickly shook your head and brought your mouth to the end of the silicone tip. You looked up at Lucy with doe eyes, you hallowed out your cheeks. Lucy threw her head back in “pleasure” She formed your hair into a ponytail pulling your head back.

You started sucking up and down letting out a light gag on her silicon shaft. The older woman bite her lip and grabbed your head forcing it down your throat, making your eyes roll to the back of your head making you gag hard.

Lucy pulled your head back and shushed your heavy breathing with her finger “shh, baby get on the bed for me you did so so good” she said in a soft tone.

You climbed on the bed laying on your back You chest bouncing. Lucy climbed back on the bed and brought her mouth close to your ear “I’m going to fuck you so hard, to prove your 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞“ she whispered.

She brought you into a deep kiss and slowly brought her tongue in your mouth. she pulled away and brought the tip in your entrance without warning making you whimper loudly. “O-oh my god luce” You said breathless moans.

She started moving slowly in and out letting you get used to the rhythm so she could speed up.

“oh my god, fuck me” You said moaning. The woman on top of you chuckling lightly shaking her head “Well it seems like i’m doing that already” she said in a teasing manner.

She then surprised you by picking up her pace pumping in and out making you moan loudly. Your eyes rolling at the back of your head. “Harder, faster” You said tiredly. the raven haired woman pumping with full force completely railing you.

The woman brought both of her hands to your bouncing chest squeezing them. You threw your head back, arching your back.

You felt a harsh grip on your throat. “Open your mouth” she said sternly. You opened it wide, The hazel eyed woman puckered her lips and spat on your mouth. “Now, shallow” She said sternly and harshly. Usually you would think something like that is the most disgusting thing in the world, but this was such a heated hot moment, you didn’t even care.

Lucy let out a quiet “good girl” and went back to pounding into you. she brought her finger to your clit rubbing lightly making you scream her name.

She kept pumping she felt so deep inside of you. Your mouth wide agape with your eyes constantly rolling at the back of your head.

She was fucking you so 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. You were lost for words.

Lucy brought her veiny hands to your stomach. “Do you feel that ? I’m so deep” she said letting out a sinister laugh.

Making you moan loudly encouraging her. She grabbed your ankles harshly grabbing each of your legs and putting it on her broad shoulders. making it more intense. Lucy hitting your g-spot continuously, a knot forming in your stomach. “I’m about to cum, please luce”. Lucy covered in a sheen of sweat puffing in and out.

She kept pounding and said a light “cum for me” a euphoric wave reached your body. You cummed so hard like you’ve never before. Liquid covering your sheets.

“Omg, did i just-“ “Yeah you did” the ravened hair woman cut you off and said laughing lightly with confidence on her face. She fucked you so good that you squirted, You’ve never experienced this. You let out heavy breathes bringing a hand to hold your forehead trying to calm yourself down. adjusting your eyes to the setting around you.

Lucy pulling the toy out of you carefully and unclipping from her hips and throwing it somewhere. She massaged your calf’s and brought your legs down onto the bed, falling beside you breathing hard. “That was hot” she said looking at you smiling.

You let out a giggle. The hazel eyed woman brought her hands to rub your face with her thumb. “I don’t want to be with anyone if it isn’t you” she said with honesty in her voice, a large smile coating your features.

This was like a dream, You’ve been in love with her since longest you’ve known her, these were the words you were waiting to hear. “I also want to be with you to, more than you know” You said biting your lip. The ravened haired woman smiled wide bringing your hand to her lips kissing your hand.

“Lucy i want to make you feel good to” You said looking into her eyes. “You don’t have to babe” she said in protest. “No i want to luce. I want to prove to you that your mine to” You said smirking at with lust with your eyes. “Do as you please love”. You quickly straddled her waist

You excited laughter filling the air. This is everything you wanted and more.

𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲.

[garfunklefield]

HIII❤️can you write sukuna x reader with narcolepsy🙏

I’m Gon’ Talk You Thru It!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, soft sukuna, consensual somnophilia, oral sex [female receiving], vaginal sex, creampie, this isn't realistic at all IM SORRY Word count: 1594 DESC: Your boyfriend battles your narcolepsy!

This was such a creative ask, thanks!!

The first time it happened, he genuinely thought you died. You’d think being in a committed two-month relationship would make you apt to tell your boyfriend you had narcolepsy, but it slipped your mind. Ryomen just sat there momentarily as you drifted to sleep, first thinking you were joking. Then he called your name, then again, then again. You didn’t wake up. He grabbed your shoulders and prepared to drag you to the ER himself when you let out a breath and began to snore. Oh. You didn’t die. Still, you confused and scared that man half to death. After doing one Google search he concluded everyone just falls asleep mid-sentence at some point in their life, right?

Once you did wake up though, you told him about it. You didn’t give him many details just, that you fall asleep sometimes and it’s tough to wake you from that kind of sleep. Sukuna didn’t have many questions, which brings us to the current picture. 

Your boyfriend was balls-deep in your wetness, sending mewls of pleasure from your opened mouth. He was pounding you with no sense of how rough he was, giving you all he had. It was hot and sticky. His cock clung to your walls, getting stuck from how you clenched around him. He fucked you good, but never like this. Something was different. Maybe it was that small little skirt you wore or that new perfume. But Ryomen couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He groaned into your ear, hips thrusting against your own. 

His hands were groping any part of you that he could grab, while yours were scratching against his back, “R-Ryo..” You whined, leaning your head back, “F-mm sh..shit.. F-fuck.. I’m gonna…” You dragged out the last syllable, bringing your face closer to his. He could see the pleasure building in your features and he loved pleasing you like that. He was the only one who could fuck you this good. 

You had met Ryomen Sukuna at college, he was on your track team. The two of you never spoke, until you were paired for a partner race. He was notorious for being loud and menacing, which he was. You tried to switch out with your coach, but he wouldn’t let you. So, you stuck it out. In doing so, you got to know him better and saw Ryomen wasn’t that scary, once you peeled some layers back. He was competitive, a fire lighting inside him when you won the last half of the race. His cheers were loud and they made you realize he wasn’t too bad. Maybe that’s why you gave him your number, and maybe you developed feelings. It was slow, but your relationship grew strong. 

The only thing was, in being with him for a few months, your narcolepsy had never interfered with your sex life. You were on medicine, so your fainting spells happened rarely. But today, you had been more tired than normal. You didn’t say no when Ryomen initiated, even when you started to feel one coming on. 

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, “I’m.. I..” But then your eyes rolled back and you laid limply against the bed. It took your boyfriend a moment to register you had fallen asleep, or more like passed out, underneath him. 

He slowed his thrusts to a stop and slowly leaned back, resting on his knees, dick deep inside your pussy, “Hm.” The man just sat there for a moment, debating exactly what the hell to do. 

You had told him what to do in case this had ever happened, but he wasn’t sure. Yeah, he was a scary big man, but he wouldn’t go past your boundaries. Typically, he’d ask before ever laying a finger on your lovely form, that’s why consensual somnophilia took him a second to get adjusted to. You told him it was okay, in fact, you encouraged it. He had your word it would be okay, but he still hesitated. It took Ryomen another minute of debating before he sighed and got back into position, laying his front against you and thrusting into your pussy. Still wet, aching for him. You were tight, clenching around his cock as he slowly pushed himself in. Warm, sticky, perfect. He let out an involuntary moan and ground his hips to the sensation of your cunt swallowing him whole. 

“F-fuck,” he whispered, “Mm..” His voice was gruff against the squelches from your pussy. You lay there, mouth slightly open as he fucked into you. You looked so pretty and helpless, lying there without moving. Ryomen trailed his right hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. He was never the type to be vulnerable, or even gentle, especially when it came to sex. But, the way you just took it, laid there, it elicited something deep within him. A fire, something burning in his stomach. Your back arched to the sensation as he hit your pretty G-spot. He knew how to fuck you so well, making your body react without you even being aware. 

Defenseless. Helpless. That’s what you were in that moment. And Ryomen had never felt more connected to you. Something about feeling you, holding you close, making you pleasured even when you were unconscious, it was hot. He could feel your body reacting, almost in a primal and instinctual way. That’s what was beginning to send him over the edge. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he began to feel himself fall apart. You didn’t wake up, not even when he came into you, thrusting in spurts of cum from his tip. You moaned, mouth opening to make a small O-shape before it closed and you let out a small snore. 

Sukuna continued to push into you, longing his orgasm as much as he possibly could. Once it was done, and all he could do was feel a tickling sensitivity down his shaft, he pulled out. You were still asleep. One part of him was offended he didn’t fuck you good enough that you’d wake up, but the other was thrilled. He could continue to do things to your body until you woke, maybe even mid-orgasm if he was good enough. He liked that control, being able to touch you in any way he wanted. However, he only stayed within the bounds of what you two had agreed on. 

Your boyfriend pulled out, groaning at the sensation. Typically, he’d wait and let his cum seep out of your tight hole, then eat you out. But the fire was still burning hot. Besides, he didn’t mind the taste of his cum. Ryomen knelt, face to face with your pretty pussy. One hand hovered over your clit, while the other spread apart your folds. His mouth connected with your cunt and he could taste himself on his cum. It seeped into his mouth and rolled along his tongue, his tongue that flicked around your cunt. You inhaled sharply and groaned softly, moving your hips to the sensation. Unsuspecting and totally aroused. 

One of his fingers lightly rubbed on your clitoris, making your moans louder. You were being so good for him, it was making him strain against the bed. His hips started to rut into the mattress, giving Sukuna some sort of stimulation. Your gasps and light whines were doing things to him that they hadn’t done before. Maybe it was the fact you couldn’t control how your body reacted to the pleasure, or the fact it was his pleasure that was making you sound so cute. Either way, he could tell you were becoming close. Your breaths got quicker, your moans louder, and your hips ground harder. 

“Ry..Ryom..” You suddenly spoke, causing him to tilt his head to look at him. Your eyes were hazy, sleep-riddled, and your smile was lazy, “Aw.. b-baby..” You cooed, a small hand running through his hair. He could have melted right there, you were so pretty, even with messy hair. He pulled back from your cunt and assaulted his lips with yours. You gasped and caved into the kiss, wrapping arms around his neck to press him in against you. Two tongues collided, followed by some teeth. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouths as he licked into you. Needing you. Wanting you so bad it was starting to hurt. 

“Let me,” he broke away from the kiss, “Put it in..” Sukuna’s voice was gruff and low, spilling into your ears like honey. You nodded, pulling his lips back in. It felt so good as they molded against each other, breaking apart for air and then delving right back in. His rough hand slid down your front and grabbed his swollen dick, pressing the tip to your throbbing pussy. You wanted to cum so much and on his dick. You were teased, poked, and prodded, aching for release.

Ryomen thrust into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips, “Pe..perfect,” you gaped, trying not to make too much noise. It felt so good, how his big log rubbed against your insides and made your tummy bulge. 

Even if it had just been a few months, you loved him and he loved you. Although, you hadn’t said it yet. Would now be a good time to say it? Ryomen was really debating it as he buried his cock into your warmth. But the seconds slipped into minutes and he didn’t say a word, letting the room be filled by your pathetic moans. 

You two really needed to do this more often.

[carrie-tate]

Royal Smile

"Spending time in the company of friends, Todoroki Shoto sincerely wants to learn to rejoice with them. And they are happy to help him with this"

Lee! Todoroki, Ler!Uraraka and Midoriya [+ Iida]

Warnings: none, I guess? fluff, tickles and friendship :3

info: yes, I know you're used to me drawing here and not writing, but inspiration came over me and here we are… I'll tie this to the fact that I've overcome another milestone here. And yes, this is dedicated to the blurry fantasy au inspired by the 2nd ending of season 2

info2: according to the calculations, there are approximately +3.5k words here

***

The situation Shoto found himself in now was like the most banal plot from the books he read in their library. A team of completely different people gathered together, moving towards adventures to defeat a great evil. Midoriya Izuku, a simple and kind guy, an adventurer in its purest form. Ochako Uraraka, a sorceress and a witch, with a clearly positive outlook on life and fire in her eyes. Tenya Iida, a wandering knight who had accompanied the girl on her adventures even before their mutual meeting, clearly had a loyal and friendly disposition.

And himself. Todoroki Shoto. A runaway prince, tired of the pressure of status and his father, decided to accompany these three on their journey. It was a truly fairy tale plot.

Having become the fourth in this motley company, Shoto could already observe the established communication of the other three from the sidelines. Sociable, easy and without any formality. The complete opposite of what he had become accustomed to over the years of living within the palace walls. And it was worth admitting that he was starting to like these people.

Although for now he was still… on the sidelines. The other three did not dare to behave in a casual manner towards him, still taking into account his status and the fact that he might simply not like it. And Todoroki himself, due to his upbringing and simply the lack of proper experience, did not dare to take the first steps himself. Therefore, he remained a little further away, with an eternally thoughtful look.

But as the days passed, this awkwardness melted away like snow in the sun, quickly and imperceptibly. At least more and more often, someone from the company decided to joke with him or talk about all sorts of nonsense. A polite pat on the shoulder from Uraraka immediately became the first step for Shoto in their newly acquired friendship. And Todoroki sincerely wanted to respond to his comrades in the same way. At least try.

So one evening, when the company settled down for a rest at the edge of the forest, the prince made such an attempt. He tried to smile when he and Midoriya were collecting brushwood near the camp and the boy started talking about various plants that he managed to remember in this area and their properties. But seeing Shoto's face, Izuku stopped mid-sentence.

"What's... with your face..?" The young man asks carefully, choosing his words so as not to sound rude.

Todoroki's shaky attempt at a smile immediately disappeared from his face when the prince explained sheepishly.

"I... I was smiling," but it seemed to have turned out differently than planned, Shoto thought then. "Like you do it always..."

"Oh, good, and I already thought you had a cramp," Midoriya said rashly, but then realized how it sounded. Seeing Todoroki's even more gloomy face, he tried to smooth things over. "I mean, no! It wasn't that bad, like—!"

"I guess I don't have that skill at all..." The prince mutters resignedly.

This makes Midoriya sympathize. What kind of life do you have to live to... not have the skill to smile. He shifted the bundle of brushwood in one hand and patted Todoroki on the back with his free hand, trying to cheer him up.

"You don't have to despair that much," the boy says encouragingly when the prince turns his gaze to him. An awkward but sincere smile plays on Izuku's face as he watches Shoto sigh at his words. Midoriya doesn't hold back and honestly admits. "Although you really lack practice..." and then mutters to himself, having this habit of thinking out loud. "Although this usually happens on its own... it's not a skill at all..."

There was an awkward silence, broken by Midoriya's musings out loud, as they were still walking along the forest path, heading back to their camp. Then Todoroki made a completely unexpected request, looking at the boy.

"Can you... teach me?" He said it slowly. Even in a way, embarrassed, but still determined. The prince clearly wanted to get closer to his comrades and was eager to learn something new.

"Teach you?" Midoriya snapped out of his thoughts, blinking his eyes absentmindedly and looking at him. "How to smile?" He thought for a moment, thinking about how unusual it was. But at the same time… Why not? "What a challenge… But I can try."

Now Todoroki could try smiling again, he really wanted to. But the previous unsuccessful experience forced him to only nod very gratefully and expressively. But the prince's eyes clearly sparkled.

They continued walking as Midoriya continued to talk out loud about how exactly he should teach Shoto a skill that was literally natural from birth. He mumbled habitually, taking the new task habitually as a challenge for himself, raising his free hand to his chin.

“Although I don’t even know where to start…” Then he turns his gaze to Todoroki and asks. “What makes you happy? What made you smile last time?”

Walking next to him, the prince thought for a moment. And when was the last time he smiled? Not counting this attempt… Damn, he didn’t remember anything further than early childhood. And from there, the memories were too blurry. That is, he had absolutely no idea what to say to this. Shoto sheepishly admits:

“I… I don’t know.”

Midoriya frowned slightly, it sounded… seriously gloomy. "Has he really never smiled at anything for so many years?", Izuku couldn't help but think as he absentmindedly suggested:

"What, you didn't even have jesters in your castle…?"

"There were, but I never found them funny," Todoroki replied. He recalled the palace walls and its customs with obvious irritation.

"What, nothing at all?" Midoriya was horrified, even standing still for a moment, surprising Shoto. "No favorite book, no favorite music? I thought life in the palace should be filled with balls or other… celebrations?"

Todoroki also frowned at all of the above. Yes, he had read many books, they replaced people for him at times, but he wouldn't say that he could single out even one as his favorite. As for the celebrations and balls…

“They’re not nearly as fun as you might think,” the prince says. “There’s more hypocrisy and royal intrigue…”

“You don’t have to continue!” Midoriya interrupts the boy in a slight panic, realizing that he’s said something stupid again. He sighs as they continue approaching the camp. The situation turned out to be even more neglected than Izuku had assumed, and this clearly worried him. “But is it really nothing at all..?”

Todoroki thought about all this too. In fact, there was one thing that made him happy. Well, at least it looked like it. And he decides to suddenly voice it.

“I think our journey makes me happy,” in his usual neutral, thoughtful tone, but there was a sincere feeling of recognition in it. “Before you all, I didn’t feel so… appropriate.”

Izuku looked back at the prince with wide eyes. He had to admit, such a confession clearly touched him. Midoriya could even shed tears, but he held back. The guy smiles stupidly and nods.

“Well, then our goal now is for it to stay that way,” He answers when they have already approached the rest stop.

At this time, Ochako was once again sorting through the contents of her backpack. After all, any self-respecting sorceress should be aware of what she has and what she lacks. Herbs, flasks, notes, usually by the evening it all always got mixed up in one heap. Tenya, who was sitting next to her, was making sure that the hastily lit fire didn't go out before Midoriya and Todoroki arrived.

At the moment the two returned, Uraraka was examining, shaking and listening to a handful of crystals that she also carried with her, gathered into one chain on a string. The crystals rattled beautifully against each other, producing a quiet, pleasant music. But noticing how her friends came out into the clearing, Ochako immediately put this treasure aside, waving her hand at the guys. Mydoriya's words didn't go unnoticed by Iida.

"What's the goal?" The straightforward knight immediately asked.

Midoriya hesitated with his answer. He couldn't say so directly about Todoroki's request. He looked back at the prince and finally convinced himself that he didn't need to tell the details. Izuku laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," he waved it off and finally put the brushwood on the ground near their fire. The guy decided to change the subject and his gaze fell on the crystals Ochako had left. He hadn't paid attention to them before, but now he saw this as an ideal excuse to change the topic. "And what is this?"

***

And now the conversation had flown in a completely different direction, where Uraraka, with her usual enthusiasm, was talking about her magical things. And then all three of them, plus Todoroki, who sat down next to them, discussed music, until the topic touched on dancing. It seemed that all three of them somehow remembered how they had a fun time listening to music with their cared ones.

“Now it’s clear why Midoriya had such an opinion about the festivities in the palace…” Shoto thought to himself, acting as an attentive listener. “It seems that others have it much… more fun.”

And the guy felt a slight prick from the opportunities he had missed. Only because he was unlucky enough to be born in these pompous royal conditions without the simple joys of life. But before he could fully immerse himself in his thoughts, Uraraka attracted everyone’s attention. She jumped to her feet and, folding her hands together in an energetic gesture, suggested.

“Let’s dance! I’ve missed it so much!” And as the most enthusiastic girl, she picked up her magic staff from the ground and immediately tried to remember a suitable trick for this.

A couple of magic words, a couple of ringing melodic crystals suspended from the nearest tree branch, and now soft music was heard throughout the clearing. Todoroki raised his eyebrows, once again convinced of the fairytale nature of the events he found himself in.

Midoriya was the first to be dragged off to dance, when Ochako pulled him by the arms with a wide smile. At first, the surprised boy kept stumbling, looking at his feet, until he finally relaxed and began to dance with the girl. Todoroki looked at them, then at Tenya, the knight restrainedly did not immediately give in to the fun of his friends.

But soon enough, Iida was dragged along. When even he, who seemed usually constrained by armor and rules, twisted dance steps that were more reminiscent of the movements of the hands of a clock in their precision than the wild jumps and turns from his sorceress friend. Todoroki looked at them with a mixture of envy and embarrassment, when Midoriya suddenly extended his hand to him with a wide smile.

And the persuasion that Shoto did not know the same dances as his friends did not help. The dances that he saw in the palace were more constrained and much more reserved... Fake, as the prince thought then. But he did not know how to real dance. But he was still raised to his feet and carried away to everyone else.

A step, a second, a third. Here he stumbled. Here he awkwardly tried to repeat the movement, turned and almost fell. But he was immediately caught back by the hands and put upright. The sounds of music and laughter mixed in his head. For the first time, Todoroki was not on the sidelines. He participated. He was a part of something. And this awareness spread in his chest with a pleasant warmth.

And this feeling made him want to smile, and it seemed that this time it was for real. But Shoto did not have time to consciously think about it. Uraraka, carried away by the dance, absentmindedly collided with him, nudging the prince in the side with her elbow. And before Todoroki could even think, a quiet gasp escaped his mouth.

There was silence, even the music died down. None of the three of them had heard such sounds from the prince in all these days. Izuku and Tenya exchanged confused glances when Ochako, assuming the worst, immediately rushed to apologize.

"Oh-oh, I'm so sorry, wait, did that hurt?"

"No," Shoto managed to answer confusedly. Honestly, he himself did not understand what happened. It happened so quickly that he himself did not realize why he... Almost screamed. Therefore, he assumed the most obvious thing for himself. "You... just caught me off guard, everything is fine."

The sorceress looked at Todoroki in confusion. At first, she was glad that she did not hurt him. But then she wondered why he reacted so... much. A wild thought crossed her mind, and Uraraka's face immediately blossomed into a grin of a guess as she asked.

"Wait, are you ticklish...?"

And in Todoroki's place, anyone would have been horrified by the mischievous sparkle in the girl's eyes. But Shoto didn't react at all, looking at Ochako with confusion and trying to understand what she was asking him about.

"Am I what..?"

"Huh? You don't know what this is?" Uraraka was surprised, even stopping her grin, although seeing his bewilderment, all three of them were confused.

In response, the prince shook his head, looking at the others and realizing that it seemed like he had missed something else in his life, something that everyone seemed to know. Midoriya tried to explain everything to him, speaking awkwardly.

“Well, it’s when one person touches another and…” The guy awkwardly gestures, trying to describe something so familiar and simple to him. “And they laughs..?”

Todoroki frowned, analyzing what he heard. This description did not fit anything from his life experience. And he could hardly imagine it. Midoriya was confusedly trying to think of a way to explain it clearly, but then Uraraka solved the problem.

“Something like that.”

Her thin hands quickly made their way under the breastplate of Iida's armor, squeezing his sides. Immediately causing a surprised wheeze from the knight, when he almost instantly almost folded in half, giggling, trying to move away from the girl. It was just the seconds.

Todoroki raised his eyebrows in surprise as the girl finally took her hands off her friend with a satisfied smirk. Tenya stumbled back, trying to catch his breath from the sudden attack.

“Uraraka!” The knight looked at her, trying to look menacing and angry, but it was clear that he was still smiling himself.

“I needed a demonstration.” The girl shrugged lightly, smiling innocently.

“You could have demonstrated it on someone else…”

Todoroki watched as Ochako snickered at Iida's frivolous indignation. At the same time, Shoto was trying to comprehend the whole process. It seemed simply crazy to him, could a simple touch to a certain spot in a certain way make someone laugh? And it seemed completely out of control…

At the same time, Izuku, who no one was paying attention to yet. He was also thinking. He analyzed Shoto's sudden reaction to this poke, suddenly deciding on a rash stupidity. The guy reached his hands to the prince's waist, when his fingers dug into his sides.

Todoroki's eyes instantly opened wider in surprise from the sudden contact. He didn't even think that Midoriya would think of such a thing. Exactly the same scream, even a squeak, burst out of his lungs from a shocking unfamiliar sensation, and after that, a quick and uncontrollable stream of giggles immediately followed.

"A-Ahhaha— Wh-What?"

And it was… A charming sound. Hoarse from unfamiliarity, but quickly revealed as a quiet and pretty laugh, which the guy honestly tried to suppress. It was worth admitting, no one expected such an immediate reaction. Iida and Uraraka were distracted from their joke argument and stared at Todoroki in amazement. At the same time, Midoriya rather only became more inspired, continuing to poke the prince here and there with curiosity, striking laughter out of the young man like sparks from flint.

Which Todoroki couldn't stop! It really was impossible to control, everything inside was shrinking into a lump from the influx of a new, unexplored feeling. Each new touch seemed to make laughter bubble in his throat with renewed vigor and burst out. Shoto did not even immediately realize that he could try to escape.

And when he tried, he took such a shaky step back that he stumbled and fell onto the grass, breathing heavily and hugging himself with his arms, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The smile was still firmly on his face when he hesitantly opened his closed eyes.

And he saw the three of them standing above him, exchanging glances, unable to contain their own giggles as they all seemed to share the thought that he looked… adorable. The smile did suit the prince unironically, and for the first time he looked alive, rather than as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Midoriya asks, smiling slightly apologetically as he squatted down next to Todoroki.

It seemed that Todoroki managed to nod and say that he was fine. Only now did the boy notice how hot his own face seemed to him now. Shoto continued to lie on the ground, looking at his comrades, suspiciously noticing the smirks with which (even the usually serious Iida) they exchanged glances.

“Then fine!” The sorceress clapped her hands, suddenly kneeling on the ground next to them. On the other side of him, across from Izuku.

Todoroki was starting to get nervous about this… but not in a bad way. And when he raised his head, he saw that Tenya had also ended up lowering himself to the ground behind his head. The prince thought that he was surrounded, and he was clearly not mistaken. Because when he belatedly inquired about what these three were up to, Midoriya immediately answered him:

“Well, you wanted to learn how to smile,” a bright smile played on the boy’s face, in which a mischievous plan was clearly hidden. "I think now is the time."

And before Shoto could object, he felt Izuku's fingers move along his sides again, immediately causing another cry and an instant reaction, when the prince closed his eyes in another fit of laughter. Just as he was about to try to grab Midoriya's hands, almost at the same moment Ochako joined the guy, making her way with her fingers to his ribs, causing another surprised squeak from Todoroki. Shoto's laughter became louder, even seeming to rise an octave.

Here he finally recovered from the shock, making an attempt to wriggle out of their hands. Well, or at least fight back with his own hands, trying to catch someone by the wrists and pull them away from him. But this newfound ability to fight was also brazenly taken away from him. Pausing for a moment, Uraraka said:

“Iida, could you hold his arms…”

“No, wahait—” Then Shoto knew it was all over for him when Tenya easily caught his hands, which had weakened from laughter, and pinned them behind his head.

And before the prince could try to convince the three of them to come to their senses, they returned to their previous activities without a trace of shame. Laughter came from his mouth again as he helplessly threw his head back, squinting his eyes. He tugged at his hands, but the knight’s grip was unwavering. And this inability to even lower his own hands seemed to only intensify these feelings, driving him into a corner.

Everything was mixed up in his head again. This sudden helplessness seemed so unusual for the usually stoic Shoto. But even this thought did not stay in his head for long, quickly replaced by a stream of sensations that his brain was frantically trying to process. Because Midoriya and Uraraka, with obvious excitement, seemed to find a completely new spots on his body every time, causing a completely new sounds.

Whether it was the tried and tested running of fingers along his waist, causing the prince to instantly burst into giggles. Or the careful fingernails running along his ribs, as if counting them, causing a new yelp each time, accompanied by laughter. Even when Iida, pressing Shoto's wrists with one hand, scratched his fingers along his neck with his free hand, it caused the prince to squeak in a completely unroyal way and want to pull his head into his shoulders like a turtle.

Only a couple of minutes passed. For Shoto, it seemed like an eternity. Finally, they left him alone, allowing him to breathe fresh air into his lungs. When Todoroki realized that they were no longer holding his hands, he did not hesitate to immediately turn on his side and curl up into a ball, pressing his hands to his sides and still unable to suppress the laughter remaining in his chest. He did not even remember the last time he laughed like that and whether he ever laughed like that at all.

The three of them looked at each other, pleased with their work. Slowly, the playful atmosphere gave way to the evening gloom, when it became noticeable how quickly the sun was setting. Midoriya and Iida suddenly remembered about the fire, which they had completely forgotten about and which had almost died out.

While the two were dealing with the source of heat, Ochako stayed with Todoroki, modestly placing her hand on his shoulder as a consolation.

And Shoto himself was recovering from his thoughts for a long time, watching the others with narrowed eyes. Despite what he had experienced, despite the feeling of helplessness, for some reason he strangely felt… happy.

[absurdthirst]

A Bumpy Road {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: Fake marriages, mentions of emotional alienation/affairs, fighting, drunk driving, death, feelings, injuries, mentions of surgeries, confessions, oral sex, vaginal sex, mentions of family planning

Comments: In order to stay on his team and keep his toxic ex in-laws from gaining custody of his daughter, Frankie does something crazy. He marries you, his friend. You need insurance and he needs someone to care for his daughter, ignoring how he feels about you until he ends up hurt on his deployment.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You have an idea, it’s outrageous, outlandish and completely insane but it might just actually work. You bite your lip nervously as Frankie paces in front of you, swiping his hands through his hair and it’s unusual to not hear the rasp of the shorter military high and tight he used to wear. Since being accepted into Delta, he had been allowed to grow his hair out past normal regulation, the need to look less like the soldier necessary for the ops he would be running. Unless he has to give up his entire career because of the three year old little girl currently napping in her room upstairs. 

“How could they do this?” Frankie hisses, angry and frustrated. Scared that they actually could take his daughter from him, terrified they would. “They can’t do this. I just- I asked for help while I was deployed! Not to take her from me!” It had been a mistake to reach out, to talk about his upcoming deployment. The papers had been delivered by a court server today. He was being sued for full custody of his little girl by his late wife’s family. 

Your mind races, trying to talk yourself out of the crazy idea but you can’t. It would work. Better yet, people who knew you would believe it. And Frankie could prove that he had care in place for his daughter, stability. The military would get off his back and his former in-laws would have no case. The bonus would be that you would have health insurance for the first time in years. “Frank.” You murmur quietly, following his frantic pacing. “Frankie!” You call louder, getting his attention this time as he stops mid-turn to look at you. “Marry me.”

His eyes widen, absorbing your words, and he thinks back on how damn long he’s been in love with you. It’s hard to think about but he nods, knowing that this is smart. You need your meds and the insurance will get them for you. He needs a caretaker for his daughter that isn’t his toxic former in-laws. “You’re a genius.” He declares and cups your cheek to kiss your forehead. “God, how - you are a goddamn angel, baby. That’s perfect. We can - we can get married before I deploy and then Ana can have someone - are you sure you want to take over caring for her? I know you babysit and when I’m away but - full time? It’s a lot of work.” He says, lowering his hands from your cheeks.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m not nervous.” You chuckle and melt at the soft, grateful expression in his warm eyes. “But she’s a good kid. And there’s the daycare, so I can still work.” The more you think about it, the more that you know it’s the right thing to do. “Ana loves me, and I know you don’t want to lose her or give up your spot on the team. The boys need you.” The fact that you have very strong feelings for Frankie doesn’t need to factor into this. “I say we get married quickly so you can let your in-laws know that it’s a losing case.”

Frankie can’t believe you’ve agreed to do this and he knows he will owe you for the rest of his life. He can’t lose his daughter but he also can’t leave his friends, his brothers, to go into danger without him. “I want you to pick a dress. I’ll pay for everything. Rings too. I- I want it to be us and Ana. No one else. She loves you already and I- are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, reaching for your hands to squeeze them.

“It’s not completely altruistic.” You remind him, knowing that he is aware of your need for health insurance. “I want to do this. I know we need to take care of things, power of attorney and things like that, but I want to help you, Francisco.” You promise quietly, imagining a small courthouse wedding with the handsome soldier. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure. We’re friends. It’ll be easy.” 

Frankie nods, knowing you know him inside out, even the dark things he hides from the outside world. The dark sins he has committed. He leans in to kiss your forehead, “I think so too, I- I can’t believe I’m saying this but - but I can’t wait to marry you.” He smiles as he pulls back. You are his best friend and as much as he tries to deny it, he’s in love with you. He knows you’re better off in the dark on that particular sin. It wouldn’t benefit you to know that. His late wife knew and that’s what killed her. 

**** 

“Janet, please. Just calm down, sweetheart.” Frankie pleads, following his wife down the hall. Ana is crying, woken up by the screaming, and Frankie is desperate to deny what Janet is accusing him of. 

“You’re fucking in love with her! Just say it. I- you didn’t love me. Did you? It’s always been her.” Janet screams down the hall and Frankie shakes his head, unable to answer. When Janet got pregnant, he was just about to be called up for a deployment and he knew he had to do the right thing and marry her. He loved her, he did. In his own way. He can’t love her like he does you, though. You are the sun, the moon, the stars. Everything to him. He had done the right thing and married Janet but she was never you. When Ana came along, she became his world and he stayed for her, fought for her. 

When Frankie doesn’t answer again, Janet shakes her head. “I knew it. You bastard! You shouldn’t - you shouldn’t have married me. It’s over Frank. It’s done. I- fuck. I gotta - I gotta go.” Janet says, rushing towards the front door. 

“Wait. Don’t. You can’t fucking drive. You’ve had three glasses of wine.” Frankie growls, having long accepted that his wife became an alcoholic in his absence, drinking when the nights were lonely and Ana wouldn’t stop crying. He didn’t realize it until he came home from that first tour. 

“I’m fucking leaving otherwise if I stay in this house, I’m gonna kill Ana.” She threatens and Frankie growls, grabbing her purse. 

“You fucking - threatening the life of our daughter? You- I know you’re hurt but you’re a - get the fuck out. Go kill yourself on the goddamn road for all I care.” He growls, shoving her purse at her. She doesn’t say a word as she leaves and Frankie watches her drive down the street. 

Little did he know that he’d be getting a call an hour later to tell him that his wife had died in an accident, driven into a tree. He was upset, mostly for Ana, for the mother she’d never get to have. Janet looked after her well-being but was never affectionate or caring. Now she has no mother at all. “I’ll be right there.” He promises the cop and the next number he dials is yours. “Hey. Yeah, um, I know it’s late but can you come over? I need someone to watch Ana for me. I’ll explain when you get here.” He says and hangs up after you agree. His wife just died but his heart still beats at the sound of your voice. He’s committed many sins but tonight might just be the worst of all. 

****

“You don’t need to be nervous.” You remind yourself as you look in the mirror, hands trembling as you lean towards the glass and smudge a little more of your eyeliner into place. “It’s Frankie, he’s not- he doesn’t actually love you.” That stings more than you thought it would as you wear the white tea dress you had picked out to get married in. Feeling like a bride and yet not one all at the same time. It’s going to be just ten minutes before Frankie will be here to drive you to the courthouse to exchange vows. The marriage certificate is ready to be signed by the magistrate that will officially declare you Mrs. Francisco Javier Morales. The knock on the door startles you, and you look towards it before glancing back in the mirror. “It’s time.” 

When you answer the door, Frankie’s breath is taken away from him. You look devastatingly beautiful. “You look so pwetty.” Ana grins up at you and you look at her in her little white flower girl dress that is similar to yours, her hair done in what looks like an attempt to style it by Frankie. 

“She’s right. You look - you look incredible.” He says, his dark eyes meeting yours and he offers you a boyish grin.

Frankie is wearing his uniform, you had asked him to but it’s impossible to think of anything but how handsome he is wearing his medals. “Not nearly as incredible as you.” You reach out and your finger strokes his jaw. “You shaved.” Your finger grazes his lip and you pull back, aware that if you keep touching him, you will want to kiss him for real. “Every single woman in town is pissed at me today.” You promise. 

Frankie suppresses the shiver that runs through him at the way you caress his face and he knows it’s going to be hard not confessing how he feels. He knows you only think of him as a dear friend and even if, by some miracle, you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to look past his sins. He’s not good enough for you. He blushes and clears his throat, “alongside every man.” He counters and Ana tugs on your hand, “daddy got me petals.” She holds up the basket that she insisted Frankie get her. She had heard about flower girls from her friends in pre-school and she insisted Frankie let her throw the petals down before you walk down the aisle. “I know it’s only a courthouse wedding but Ana wanted to make it special.”

“Thank you, Ana.” You bend down to look the little girl in the eyes, knowing how excited that she is. For her, this is exciting and fun, something that she will play with her friends the next time she sees them in school. “You are the prettiest little flower girl I have ever seen.” You promise, making her smile and you reach out to cup her little cheek. “Now I know your daddy talked to you about it, but how would you like me to come stay with you and daddy? Help him make breakfast and do your hair? Would you like that?” 

Ana nods, her eyes wide, “yes! Daddy never gets my hair right.” She says with a pout, “are you my new mommy?” She asks and Frankie had spoken to her about this. How you were going to come live with them, how you were going to be his new friend and that her mommy was still with her. He hates how selfish Janet was to drink and drive and the guilt he felt when she died after he all but forced her into the car, but there was something in her eyes. He’s seen that look before. She would’ve hurt Ana and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I-” You frown slightly, unsure of what to say to the young girl. “I would like to be your friend. A good friend. But I also don’t want you to feel like I am trying to become your mommy unless you would like that.” It might be a little more than a three year old understands, but you don’t want her to feel like she has to forget Janet. 

Frankie kneels beside his daughter, “your mommy is your angel, remember? She’s gonna look after you.” Frankie smiles and says your name, “she’s gonna be your friend when daddy is gone fighting the bad guys, okay? You are safe with her and she loves you as much as daddy does.” Frankie knows his job is much more complicated than good guys and bad guys but it’s how he can explain to a three year old that he’s gonna be gone for so long. He hates missing huge parts of her life but he can’t let his team down. 

“Okay daddy.” She hands him the basket and steps closer to wrap her small arms around your neck.

You smile at the two of them together and you know that you are doing the right thing. You are giving Frankie the opportunity to keep his daughter here with him so he can come home to her when he can. “Are you ready to go throw the petals down, sweetheart?” You ask softly. “I bet daddy will take us out for ice cream after.” 

Ana grins and nods, squealing “lets go!” 

Frankie chuckles and stands up, holding his hand out to his daughter and he winks at you, “lets go get hitched, baby.” You smile and he holds his arm out to you, guiding his girls to his truck. 

****

Ana beams as she tosses the flowers on the floor, Frankie would say in heaps more than scattered but he chuckles and she comes to stand beside him. When you walk down the small aisle, Frankie exhales shakily, his heart pounding and he’s certain you can tell he’s sweating. When you stand in front of him, you beckon Ana to stand between you and Frankie knows he’s made the right choice for his daughter. It’s always been you.

The magistrates ceremony is brief and you barely remember any of it, grinning like an idiot as you stand there with Frankie, imagining if this were actually real. “Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?” He asks, making you swallow harshly before you squeeze his hands. “I do.” You promise clearly.

Frankie nearly yells “I do” but manages to control himself, staring into your eyes as the officiant declares you husband and wife. “You may now kiss the bride.” Frankie knows this could be the only chance he gets to kiss you so he leans in to cup your cheek, pressing his lips to yours and he is firm but not demanding. It’s not brief but it doesn’t drag, despite Frankie wanting to pull you against him and slide his tongue into your mouth. This is an agreement between friends and nothing more. He pulls back and smiles, looking down at Ana between you who looks happy. This feels right. After signing the marriage certificate, Frankie takes your hand to guide you and Ana back to his truck. “I - I hope you don’t mind…it was supposed to be a surprise but the guys put together some food and drinks at Tom and Molly’s.

“Really?” Your mouth drops open in shock and you smile when he nods. “Oh my god, that’s so sweet.” You gush before you frown. “Wait.” Twisting in your seat, you watch as Frankie buckles Ana into her car seat. “Do they- uh, know what the situation is?” You ask softly, unsure of what you can say around them. 

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He finishes pulling the strap up Ana’s chest and looks over at you. “I wanted them to be able to truthfully say they believe it is real.” He explains, making you nod in understanding. There’s the possibility that Frankie’s in-laws could still come for custody or challenge the validity of the marriage and it’s better if everyone thought this was real. “Got it. Happy newlyweds.”

Frankie is grateful that you’re going along with this. He knows it benefits you too but it’s a lot to ask, to pretend to be married to him. The drive to Tom’s house is quiet and when you knock on the front door, Molly opens it with a “congratulations!” You grin and Frankie holds your hand and Ana’s as he walks inside. All of his team are there, several of your mutual friends, and Frankie is blushing when they shout “congratulations.”

“Hot damn!” Benny bellows, making you automatically grin as the younger Miller brother bounds into view. “Fish got married! You son of a bitch, you hid it from us!” He tackles Frankie in a bear hug while Molly pulls you in for a  hug. “What? Afraid she’d see me in my dress uniform and run off with me?” Ben teases, pulling back to grin at his friend before he scoops you up in a hug. “She wouldn’t have done that? Would you, sweetheart? You’ve been in love with ole Fish for years.” Benny teases.

Frankie picks Ana up, not wanting her to be excluded and he tries to ignore the comment, aware that people have thought you and him have been in love with each other for years. It’s true on his side but he doesn’t fool himself into thinking you love him as more than a friend. “Shut up Benny, my wife has good taste.” He jokes and Pope walks over. 

“Couldn’t pick a best man so you decided to do it solo?” Pope jokes and Frankie gives him a one armed hug. 

“Uncle Pope!” Ana cheers as Santi takes her into his arms, “hey chiquita.” He kisses the cheek of his goddaughter. 

Frankie smiles, turning towards Will. “You finally did it, huh? You convinced her to marry you, you son of a bitch.” He chuckles and Frankie hugs his friend. 

“Guess so.” He grins as you greet your friends and they admire the ring Frankie had bought you. He had spent quite a bit of money on it, wanting to make something about this situation real.

The party is fantastic but after a few hours you are ready to leave. Not because anyone is rude, but the jokes about you being pregnant before Frankie leaves for deployment and giving Ana a sibling just curl in your stomach. Knowing that you are never going to have that with your husband because he didn’t marry you for love. He married you for Ana and to fight off his in-laws. With the little girl passed out against her father’s shoulder, you use that as an excuse. “We need to get her home. Today was a big day for her.” You tell Molly when she offers to keep Ana overnight so you and Frankie can have some time alone. “I think we will settle in better if she’s there with us.”

Frankie nods, aware that he won’t be getting a wedding night. He’s not that stupid. He would never ever ask it of you. “She’s right. I want Ana to feel settled since we are leaving soon.” He says and rubs your back with his free hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” He murmurs and he keeps Ana in his arms while he says goodbye to his friends, knowing he will see them soon.

In his truck, you look over after he’s pulled away from Tom and Molly’s. “We didn’t discuss sleeping arrangements.” You realize, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I can stay at my apartment until you leave, but I would rather Ana get used to me being there.” You admit. “Or I can stay in the guest room if you prefer? When Ana notices that we aren’t sleeping in the same bed, you can say that you don’t sleep well beside me? Or….” you bite your lip, imagining curling up next to him. “We are both adults. We can sleep next to each other, right? You have a king sized bed.” 

“We can share a bed. We are adults. Not like we haven’t before.” He reminds you of when he used to get drunk and end up in your tiny one bed apartment, seeking solace and a late meal after a night out with the boys. “Besides, I think it would be best if Ana thinks this is real. I want her to think that this is real so she is happy with you. Not that I don’t think you’re not - you know what I’m saying, right?” He asks as he drives to his house.

“I know what you mean.” Reaching out, you pat his hand and give him a smile when he looks over at you. “It’s a good thing we’ve started carting some of my things over, right?” You have every intention of selling most of your things, since Frankie’s is already established and your furniture holds no sentimental attachment for you. “We can go get my ID and everything tomorrow. Get me set up in the system as your wife?”

Frankie nods, “yeah. We will sort everything out tomorrow.” His heart pounds in his chest at hearing you call yourself his wife and he swallows harshly, knowing that nothing can be done. For your sake and Ana’s. He can’t fuck this up by letting his feelings get involved. He sighs and pulls into his driveway, killing the engine and he’s careful as he takes Ana out of her car seat.

As Frankie takes Ana to lay her down, you take the bag that Frankie had brought over into the master bathroom so you can change out of your wedding dress into some comfortable pajamas. They aren’t fancy or sexy but you had bought some new, cute sleeping clothes since you would be sharing a house with Frankie. Washing the makeup off and taking your hair out of the careful style you had put it in for the ceremony. Looking more like your normal self when you open the door to find your new husband in the bedroom you will share. 

Frankie is carefully hanging up his uniform when he sees you and his heart clenches at how fucking beautiful you look. He feels guilty that he’s got you in this situation, in a marriage of convenience when you deserve all the love in the world. He strips down to his boxers, pulling a plain shirt out to pull on. “You want some water?” He asks, clearing his throat and you nod so he ventures into the kitchen, exhaling shakily to force himself to calm down. This isn’t a real wedding night. “Here you go, sweetheart.” He says and hands you the glass.

“Thank you.” You sit on the end of the bed and take a sip of the water, trying to calm your nerves and you sigh. “I know that this is- that we aren’t actually together, but I want you to know that I’m not going to embarrass you while you are deployed.” You tell him. It's been a long time since you’ve dated but just because you aren’t really Frankie’s wife in all senses doesn’t mean you are going to mess around with anyone. “You don’t have to worry about that.” 

Frankie comes to sit down beside you, reaching for your hand. “I- I know this isn’t easy but if you do meet someone…you need to tell me and we end this. I shouldn’t - I don’t want to get in the way of the rest of your life. I love you - for - for doing this for me, and I will never be able to repay you. You’ve helped me keep Ana and I’ll forever be in your debt. I can’t - I can’t hold you back if you find someone and want to live your own life.” It kills him to say it, hating the thought of you with anyone else but he can’t be selfish, not when you’ve done so much for him.

It’s hard not to immediately assure him that you would never meet anyone else. Not when you are in love with him and no one has ever stood up against Frankie in your heart. Instead, you nod. “And I want you to do the same thing. You deserve to be happy, Frankie and when you meet someone that does that for you….” You give him a weak smile and go for a joke. “It will be the easiest divorce in the history of divorces.”

Frankie chuckles softly, his heart sinking but he ignores that and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long day and I know Ana will be waking us up with excitement to have our first day together. I want to do as much as I can with her before I leave. Tomorrow, let’s go get you in the system and go for breakfast.” He says and lets go of your hand so he can slide under the covers.

Frankie has his side of the bed established, so you climb in on the other side. Knowing that you don’t mind it and you are thankful that his bed is comfortable. “It was a good wedding, Frankie.” You murmur as you lay down beside him. “Thank you. For not thinking that I was crazy.” You grin at him, knowing that he is also thankful you are willing to do this. “Goodnight hubby.”

“Goodnight wifey.” Frankie chuckles, leaning over to turn the lamp off and you curl up, falling asleep pretty quickly. He doesn’t. Staying awake and listening to your soft snores, murmurs, and breathing. His heart aches for you, to curl around you and breathe you in. He can’t ruin this. You don’t feel the same way, you want the insurance and to help him out. It takes a while but eventually he falls asleep, unaware that he had ended up doing the thing he was trying to avoid: curling around you.

Waking up in Frankie’s arms is a special kind of hell. Because you know that this is only because he’s asleep and not because he’s decided that he wants you in the middle of the night. Even if the very prominent hardness pressed against your ass makes you want to pretend that he does. The good thing is that Frankie is a heavy sleeper when he’s home so you manage to wiggle away from him before you wake him up. “Morning.” You huff when he starts to stir. “I have to pee, go back to sleep.” You urge softly.

He grumbles, hugging the pillow you were sleeping on, inhaling your scent from it, and he falls asleep again, wanting to make the most of this time at home. When you walk into the kitchen, you decide to get a start on making some coffee and eventually, Frankie wakes up, rolling onto his back and willing his morning wood to disappear. When the mental attempt is fruitless, he gets into the shower. Groaning as he wraps his hand around his cock, he remembers the dream he was having of you underneath him, celebrating your wedding night for real.

In the kitchen, you are reminding yourself that Frankie is just a man who wakes up with a hardon. It doesn’t mean that he wants to throw you up on the counter and fuck you. Deciding that you will make a small breakfast for Ana, giving Frankie some space and allowing you to cool down.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Frankie groans, jerking himself as his cum paints the shower wall. He’s lost track of how many times he’s imagined fucking you while in this shower. After cleaning off the shower and himself, Frankie brushes his teeth and shaves, getting dressed just in time for you to finish Ana’s breakfast. “Thank you for doing that.” Frankie says and fixes himself a cup of coffee after he sees you already have a cup.

“Of course.” Ana squawks over the baby monitor, obviously just waking up and you smile. “Do you want to get her or do you want me to start getting into a routine?” You ask, before you answer your own question. “Let me get her. I’ll be right back.”

Frankie watches you go, sipping his coffee and smiling as he listens to Ana sleepily say good morning on the monitor before she realizes you’re still there and she is excited, telling you how she wants to make cupcakes and show you all her dolls. It makes Frankie feel comforted that his little girl will be looked after while he’s gone. “Morning baby girl.” He greets her when she walks into the kitchen, eyes still sleepy and he picks her up to kiss her cheek. 

“Daddy. I want pancakes.” She demands and Frankie chuckles, “we will get pancakes later baby.” He says your name, “she made you some eggs for now.”

Ana frowns slightly and shakes her little head. “I no want eggs.” She pouts, crossing her arms and you try not to smile at the ferocious little look on her face. 

“Oh, well..” you sigh softly, “I guess you don’t have to eat the eggs. Even though they give you lots of energy to play.” You tell her softly. “Especially since this is just supposed to be first breakfast.”

“First breakfast?” She pipes up and Frankie nods, “yeah. Pancakes are second breakfast. But only if you eat the first breakfast. You wanna show off all your dolls, right baby girl? You gotta have energy to do that and eggs give you that.” Frankie explains to his daughter who lowers her arms. 

“With ketchup.” She insists, walking over to you.

Laughing, you turn back towards the refrigerator. “Eggs with ketchup, got it.” You don’t miss the way Frankie winces and you wonder if it’s something that she had learned from Janet. Frankie’s first wife had never hidden the fact that she hadn’t liked you, so you had tried to give her the distance she wanted, though you weren’t going to stop being friends with the guys or Frankie for her. “After you eat, I’ll help you get dressed and we will do your hair, how does that sound?” 

Frankie is reminded of Janet, who he used to make fun of for having eggs with ketchup and she used to make it for Ana when she started eating solids. “Can I have braids?” She asks, wanting to have her hair different from the styles Frankie just about manages to put together. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say and Frankie smiles as he watches Ana hug your leg.

Breakfast goes easy for Ana and you leave Frankie to clean up the kitchen while you and Ana go to get ready. The young girl sitting extremely still for a three year old, excited for her braids. You don’t blame her. The dolly she had introduced you two had braids and she wanted to look like her. Making her gasp in the mirror when she looks at her reflection.

When Ana comes out, squealing happily about her braids, Frankie ooohs and awws and tells her how pretty she looks. He winks at you, “you did a good job, baby.” He says and he doesn’t even think about the nickname he calls you and Ana admires the braids. “You wanna get ready and I’ll entertain the little lady?” Frankie suggests.

“Thanks.” You nod and try not to take his nickname to heart. It’s just practice for when you are in public and around others. “I’ll try not to be too long,” you promise, turning and heading towards the bedroom where your bag is. You need to shower and plan on doing just basic makeup for your ID photo.

****

Frankie glances over at you while he drives, admiring your profile in the sun and his gaze drops down to his ring on your finger. It makes his heart twist that he didn’t propose to you properly but again, he’s reminded that this isn’t real. “You got everything?” He asks while looking in the mirror at Ana who is admiring her Barbie.

“Social security, birth certificate, marriage certificate, driver’s license.” You go through all your documents and grin. “Yep. Although now I need to change all of that too. To reflect the last name Morales.” Your stomach twists pleasantly and you remind yourself that you are a Morales in name only. “Plus a passport change. That’s the one I dread.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll have the insurance soon. Do you have enough meds to last?” He asks, knowing you have been halving the dose and he hates that, seeing how it has taken a toll on you. You aren’t your usual self and he wants to see you’re okay before he leaves.

“Yes.” You bite your lip and reach for his hand on the gear shifter. “Thank you Frankie. This is- I am grateful. I hated choosing between my medications and eating sometimes.” You hate how expensive it is to live when you don’t have health insurance and your job does not provide employer insurance since you are technically a contractor.

Frankie exhales, hating that you have to even choose. “Fucking country.” He huffs under his breath, knowing that he fights for freedom but those freedoms don’t allow you to have what you need when you desperately need it. He pulls into the parking lot of the administration building and comes around to open your door, helping you out before he moves to unbuckle Ana.

“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heat up from Frankie’s attention to manners. You grab the diaper bag just in case and the three of you make your way to the first office to have you officially added to Frankie’s record as his wife and dependent. You will have to memorize his social security number because that is how they will give you the services you need from now on.

Frankie remembers adding Janet to his file when she was newly pregnant before he was first deployed and he squeezes your hand as you walk out, officially added as his dependent. He will call his lawyer later to tell them about the wedding so he can get Janet’s parents to drop their custody case. For now, he’s going to take his family to breakfast. 

****

“Silly daddy!” Ana giggles when he puts the empty glass to his eye and pretends to look at her through it. Pancakes eaten and bellies full, he hasn’t been this happy in a long time, glancing at you when he lowers the glass from his face.

Frankie is such a good father and it makes your heart pound. Imagining that you are a real family and wishing that you could be looking forward to giving Ana a little brother or sister. “Daddy is silly.” You tease, sending him a smile.

He chuckles, reaching for your hand so he can caress the ring with his thumb. “Daddy is silly!” Ana giggles and leans into Frankie’s side. He cuddles her with his free arm, knowing it’s going to be hard to leave but he has to, he can’t abandon his brothers. 

**** 

“Is she asleep?” You ask as Frankie walks into the kitchen. 

“Out like a light.” He tells you and groans in appreciation when you hand him the bottle of beer. He leaves in a few days and tomorrow he begins to prep for his departure. He has one last night to spend with you in relaxation. 

“You wanna finish that show?” You ask and he nods, watching you dish up the pasta that you’ve been cooking after giving Ana her simple buttered noodles earlier. 

“Sure baby.” The nickname comes naturally now and it slips off of his tongue without thought.

Your evenings have been so natural, perfect together. The friendship between the two of you had made it easy to be around each other and the only thing that you are struggling with is to not try to jump Frankie. He’s so sexy, especially when he comes home in his uniform. Waiting until he’s asleep to touch yourself while you are laying next to him at night or using your toy in the shower before Ana gets up is the only relief that you are getting. Bringing the pasta over to the couch, you sit down beside him and hand him his bowl. “Hopefully we figure out if they are going to get together this episode. I don’t want to wait until next season to find out.” 

“Probably not. It’s the waiting that makes the end result sweeter, don’t you think?” He asks, thanking you for the food and he hits play on the show. “Fuck, this is good.” He groans after swallowing the first bite. You are a damn good cook and he is going to miss your food when he’s got MREs on the menu. You eat in companionable silence, it’s comfortable and he loves that he can just be himself around you. Janet’s parents were furious to hear Frankie had married you, having heard from their daughter about how she thought he loved you more than her. Still, they didn’t have a case anymore so it was dropped

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind.” You start as you turn towards him. “I told Ana that we will drop you off together. She wants to see you off and I couldn’t say no. I think it will help her understand why daddy has to be gone for a long time.” You know this will be the first deployment that she will remember and you want it to be as good as it can for her. “I also got you one of those recordable books. You know? The ones that we saw in the toy store? That way you can read her bedtime story anytime she’s missing daddy.” 

Frankie swears he falls in love with you even more in that moment. Watching you with his daughter, how caring you are, how much you love her, it makes him want to stay and just spend the rest of his life with you, not missing a moment. When you were in the kitchen baking cookies with Ana last weekend, he imagined you pregnant with his child and it’s almost too easy to envision. “Yeah? That’s a great idea. I’ll do that tomorrow when she’s napping. I-I’m worried that she’s gonna forget all about me.” He admits his deepest fear, knowing he could potentially leave his daughter an orphan if he were to die on this deployment. It keeps him awake at night.

“I’m not going to let that happen.” You promise him softly, reaching over and taking his hand. “You have your will set up, you know I will make sure that if something happens, she knows all about her wonderful father, Francisco Morales.” You bite your lip. “Maybe you can record some videos for her? Send them to my phone to show her when she’s needing to see your face?” You know that video chatting will be sparse, sometimes impossible, but you want to make sure that she remembers him. “And we are going to be making you care packages.”

He smiles, unshed tears stinging in his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “You are amazing. I- I know this is - this is hard but I want you to know that I love you. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t do any of this without you.” He admits, “I owe you everything, baby.” He blinks and a tear escapes, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability, knowing that you’d never think of him as weak or not enough. He trusts you implicitly.

Your heart aches because you know that he doesn’t mean ‘love’ like you wish that he would. Still, you swallow down your feelings and lean over to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Frankie.” You promise him quietly. You do, you love him with everything that you are and you always will. “I promise you that I will hold down the fort until you can get back home.”

**** 

It’s early and Frankie knows Ana is sleepy but she insists she comes to say goodbye to her daddy. The enormous hangar is full of families saying goodbye to their soldiers, some for the first time, others are well practiced in this. Frankie adjusts his pack over his shoulder when he sees his team. Tom saying goodbye to Molly and the girls, Will and Benny saying goodbye to their mom. Pope saying goodbye to his current girlfriend. “Come here, baby girl.” Frankie says, bending down to pick Ana up after setting his pack down once he’s standing with the team, not wanting to tear up in case it upsets his daughter more than it should.

“Daddy, I don’t want you to go.” Ana sniffles and you reach over to rub her little back. She had been very brave while Frankie was packing and had even stuffed a picture she had drawn for him in one of the pockets. “I want you to stay with mommy and me.” 

Frankie has mixed feelings, so happy that Ana is comfortable enough to call you mommy but he’s sad that she doesn’t remember Janet. As much as he resented her mother for what she became, he wants Ana to know her mother. Your eyes widen slightly and he knows he will email you to discuss this when he can. Now isn’t the time or place. “I know, baby girl.” He kisses her hair, “but I can’t stay. I gotta go fight bad guys, remember? You’ll be safe here with mommy and I promise you, I’ll come home as soon as I can. I will call you as many times as I can. I love you. So much.” He chokes a little and swallows the lump in his throat.

You know that it’s important for you to kiss Frankie goodbye, everyone around would expect it. You lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’m going to miss you. We are going to miss you. Take care of yourself please.” You beg him quietly. “Come home to us.” 

Frankie doesn’t know if he will come back and he nudges his nose against yours, “I- can I kiss you goodbye? Properly?” He asks, knowing it’s important for him to show you are his wife to anyone watching. You nod, unable to speak, and he cups your cheek, pressing his lips against yours. It’s brief but he tries to pour as much into it as possible. Ana clings to him as he nudges his nose against yours again before he pulls back. “I’m going to miss you, baby.” He tells you, adjusting Ana on his hip and he gets the minute warning to say goodbye.

Taking Ana, both you and she give Frankie a tearful goodbye, another fierce hug before he is walking away. His daughter is clinging to you as you both wave frantically as he boards a bus to take them to the plane. “Okay, baby girl.” You murmur softly, stroking her back as the little girl tucks her face against your neck. “We’re going to be okay. We’ll talk to daddy soon.” 

Frankie looks back at you before he boards the bus. Walking away is the hardest thing he has to do but he does it because he cannot turn back. He has to be there with his team. With a sigh, he steps onto the bus and takes a seat, unable to tear his eyes away from you and Ana as the bus pulls away. Pope slaps his shoulder, “they will be okay, hermano.” He promises and Frankie silently prays he’s right.

****

“Hello?” You quickly answer the phone, hoping that it is Frankie, letting you know that he’s gotten to his base overseas. “Frank, is that you?” You fumble for the light beside the bed and sit up. It’s late, or early but you don’t care. Ana groans next to you, having slept in the same bed for the last couple of nights since Frankie had left. “Hello?”

“Hey baby.” Frankie smiles against the phone when he hears your voice. He’s aware of how late it is there but he wants to hear your voice. He’s going to his op brief in the morning, diving straight into it, and he doesn’t know how long he will be dark for. 

“Hey.” You reply sleepily and Frankie’s heart twists, remembering how you’d curl into his chest during the night. 

“Just wanted to let you know I’m safe. Fucking cold here right now. How are you? How’s Ana?”

“She’s good.” You look over at his spot to see his daughter sprawled across his pillow and taking up even more room than he does if that's possible. “She’s sleeping in your spot. Wanted to cuddle daddy’s pillow.” You murmur quietly so you don’t disturb her. “I won’t let her get used to it, but she needs some comfort right now.”

“I miss her already. So much. I, uh, I want you to give her the bear tomorrow.” He says. He’d gone to the mall to Build A Bear and recorded his voice, telling Ana how much he loves her, and he wants her to have it now that he’s gone. The bear is wearing a uniform like daddy does. “How are you doing? I know it’s a lot to look after her alone.”

“Taking it one day at a time, baby.” You tell him. Thank god for her pre-school, allowing for you to work without having to entertain her. “Molly promised to come over and help out, we will get along just fine.” Reaching over, you pull up her covers and smile when she frowns just like Frankie does. “The bear will be the first thing she sees when she wakes up, I promise.”

“Good. I- I’m heading out any day now. Not sure when, but I’ll be dark for a while until we come back to base. I- I don’t know what’s gonna happen out there but I want you to know that you and Ana mean everything to me.” He confesses, wanting to leave you with that as his time is nearly up.

“We’ll be waiting to hear from you and putting together your first care package.” You hate how your stomach twists but you put on a brave front for him. 

“Sounds good. I gotta go now, sweetheart. I- I’ll talk to you soon.” He promises, aware of how much he wants to say to you but he can’t. He has to stay strong and not drag you into his stupid emotions. “Bye Frankie.” You murmur and he smiles, “bye baby.” He says and hangs up, closing his eyes and he knows this is going to be harder than ever.

**

You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Living in his house, raising his daughter. But it has moments where you can’t imagine anything else. Packing up care packages with his favorite things inside for him to have a bit of home and shipping them off faithfully. Living with your phone nearby at all times, because you don’t want to miss his calls. They are few and far between, but emails are regular, making you create a file folder to keep them all in. It’s been three months and you are finally settled into being Frankie’s dependent.

Frankie devours every email, every photo, every damn video you send of Ana. He wishes you’d include photos of you - not sexual, he just misses your smile. “Baby girl, daddy misses you.” He tells Ana on the video chat, back on base after a few hard hitting missions and he’s glad to see his daughter’s face. “Mommy. Give daddy a kiss!” Ana demands, having been kissing the phone to Frankie herself making his heart yearn for his family.

“Hey!” You light up when you see Frankie on the screen. Your hand automatically goes to your hair. You haven’t done it and you are wearing leggings and one of his t-shirts while you clean. Not your best look. “It’s good to see you, baby. How are you?” You think he looks tired but you don’t want to say that. You know he’s been out of communication so he’s been outside the wire.

God, you’re gorgeous. Frankie inhales sharply and bites his lip, “I’m good. Exhausted. We think we are gonna be sent out again. It’s - it’s rough.” He admits, running his hand through his hair. He realizes you are wearing his shirt and his cock twitches, knowing he’s gonna imagine you wearing just that when he goes to shower. “I miss you.” Frankie says softly.

“I miss you too.” Admitting that is easy. You miss your friend. The man you have fallen in love with. “Ana has a playdate on Saturday. We are going to Chuck E Cheese with one of the little girls from her preschool and her mom. Her dad is on the deployment with you.” You ramble, filling him in on all the small things about the time he’s been out of communication. “And we started a countdown for your tentative return.” You grin and angle the camera towards the calendar, showing where you’ve been marking off days.

Frankie hates that you’re waiting on him but he loves it at the same time, having a family to come home to. It keeps him going. It allows him to put his entire being into making sure he flies the team out of danger. It motivates him. “Hopefully I won’t be a day late coming back to you.” He says, asking you how your work is. Menial conversation but it means the world to him, he loves how simple it is to hear about your day but compared to the horrors he sees, he appreciates it.

You know that the call will have to end soon. Plenty of others want to talk to their loved ones. “We are planning on mailing you another package since Benny ate all your Oreos.” You laugh. “I put in a package for him so he doesn’t steal yours .”

Frankie grins, “thanks baby. I could’ve killed him when he bragged about stealing my cookies with the goddamn crumbs in his teeth.” Frankie shakes his head and Ana rushes up to the phone. “Daddy! Mommy got me a Barbie!” She holds her new doll up and Frankie admires it, reminded of how good you are with her. He’s not sure what will happen in the long run. When you meet someone and want to divorce. It will kill him but he will do it. “Okay my loves. I gotta go. Ana, sweetheart, I love you.” He says and she blows him a kiss, “love you daddy.” He looks at you, “I love you too. I’ll call when I can.” He promises and you nod, “bye Frank.” You blow him a kiss and he knows he will be thinking of that all afternoon.

****

“Coming!” Drying your hands on a dish towel, you rush towards the door, wondering who it can be. Maybe Molly, she had said she would drop by. Your friendly smile freezes the second that you open the door and see uniforms. Heart sinking, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You’ve seen this scene in a movie way too many times. “No-“ you gasp out, making the one with the silver leaf on his lapels remove his hat- or cover as Frankie called it. 

“Mrs. Morales?” You can’t breathe, you can’t speak as you imagine the next words, praying that you are finding yourself in the middle of a nightmare. “I am sorry to report that your husband has been injured in combat. He was shot multiple times and is currently being flown to Germany. You are his medical power of attorney and we need you to consent to surgery for when he arrives.” His words almost sound like you’re underwater. “Mrs. Morales, do you understand?” He asks you with a frown.

You blink stupidly at him for several moments before his words sink in. “He’s alive?” You whisper, reaching out for his arm desperately. “Frankie’s alive? Yes, yes whatever they need.” You rush out, tears streaming down your face. “Oh god, Germany?” You swallow. “I need to be there. I need to go be with him.”

“We have already arranged for you to go to Germany. Pack your bag now and we will wait. There’s no time to waste.” He says and you nod, rushing into the house to the bedroom to frantically pack a bag, grabbing your passport, and you go into Ana’s room, grabbing things for her, and you are grateful that Frankie got her a passport in hopes of taking her to Chile to see his distant cousins one day. “Mommy? What’s wrong?” She asks with a frown after she stops playing.

“Honey.” Bending down, you brush Ana’s hair back. “Daddy - daddy got hurt. He’s going to be okay, but we have to go visit him. Cheer him up.” You don’t want to scare her, but how do you explain to a three year old that her dad was in surgery after getting shot. “Can you be a big girl and come with me now? We have to be good because it’s a long trip.”

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks, her lower lip trembling and you nod, “yes but we are going to kiss his boo boos better, okay? Can you be a good girl and pick out some toys for us to take?” You ask, grabbing her backpack and she nods, picking up her favorite dolls to take on the trip. Once you’re all packed up, you alarm the house and lock it, stepping out to the men waiting for you.

It’s surreal, being driven to a plane that is scheduled to take off in just a few hours. Apparently they had delayed it and you’ll never know if it was them or providence that had you up in the air so quickly and on your way to Germany. Praying the entire time that Frankie would be okay as you tried to entertain Ana, worried what you might learn when you land.

****

“Morning baby.” Frankie smiles, kissing along your neck. 

“Hmmm. Morning.” You grind back against his hard cock and smile, “someone is eager to start the day.” 

Frankie chuckles, sliding his hand under the t-shirt you’re wearing to cup your tit. “Always when it involves you.” He rasps, pinching your nipple and you whimper when he slides his hand down your belly after letting go of your breast. It’s starting to round, you’ll have to announce that you’re pregnant soon and Frankie knows you won’t be able to wait long after you both tell Ana. She will spill the beans within hours. His hand slides lower to disappear into your panties and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. Your soft moan has him biting down on your shoulder, grinding against you. 

“Fuck, Frankie.” You whine softly and he smiles against your skin, “mmm love it when you moan my name. My beautiful wife.” He sighs and pushes two fingers inside of your wet cunt, making you turn your head to find his lips. His tongue slides into your mouth as he pumps his fingers, loving the way you push your pleasured sounds into his mouth to muffle them. It doesn’t take you long to cum, sensitive from the hormones, and he pushes you over the edge by twisting his wrist to press his thumb to your clit. “Cum for me.” He begs against your lips and you fall apart with a cry of his name. He kisses along your jaw, working you through it until he’s pulling his fingers out of you. 

There’s a beeping noise and he frowns, looking over at the nightstand. “Did you get a new alarm clock?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“No. Frankie? Frankie?” Your face blurs and he’s back into the void.

**

“Frankie.” You carry Ana, rushing through the hospital behind the nurse who is bringing you to his room. He’s out of surgery but he hasn’t woken up yet. The danger is still there but he’s stable. Tears stream down your face when you see him looking grey and still in the hospital bed, hooked up to the heart monitor. “Oh god, Frankie, we’re here.” You promise, rubbing Ava’s back. “It’s okay baby,” the little girl has turned away from the sight of her daddy in the bed and tucked her face into the crook of your neck. “He’s okay, he’s sleeping. Trying to feel better.” The doctor had explained his injuries and the surgery and you are so damn thankful he survived.

Ana whimpers, “is daddy okay?” She asks and your heart breaks at the fearful tone to the voice. 

“Yeah, baby girl. Daddy is gonna be fine.” You try to be positive, hoping that he’s going to be okay. 

**

You’re not sure how many hours have passed. Ana is asleep on the chair, curled up after the hospital staff brought her and you some food. Time will tell if Frankie wakes up, his head and chest bandaged and you can’t seem to look away from the rise and fall of his chest, the beeping of the heart monitor reminding you that he’s still here.  When he does wake up, he blinks, wincing at the bright light above, and he tries to remember what happened.

“Oh thank god.” You sigh breathlessly when you feel him shift, looking up to find his eyes slowly opening. “Frankie. It’s okay, take it easy.” You don’t want him to be startled or scared. Squeezing his hand gently. “It’s me. You’re in the hospital in Germany.” Trying to keep your voice soothing until he turns to head to look at you.

His throat is so dry. Like he has been stranded in the desert for days without water. He swallows, trying to speak, and he tries to remember what happened but all he can say is “love you.” His dreams were lucid, showing him what life could be like. A life spent with you and Ana. You as his wife, his actual wife, not some paper so you can get healthcare. He closes his eyes again, feeling exhausted.

“I love you too.” You cry, relieved that he’s okay. That he’s awake. The fear and the anxiety make you sob as you lean forward and kiss his hand. “I’m so- god, I’m so - god I was so worried.”

The nurse comes in to check on you at that moment and you turn towards her, “he’s awake.” The nurse nods and comes over to Frankie, ushering you away and pushing the button to summon the rest of the medical team to assess Frankie who is still half drugged up but aware of his surroundings.

You move over towards Ana, leaning over and checking on her while the doctors and nurses come into the room. Smiling as she cuddles the beat that had his voice recorded in it while she sleeps. You have to talk to him. You can’t do this. Not when you really love him. You can’t pretend you don’t want a real future with him while playing as his wife.

The medical team eventually filters out and the doctor approaches to tell you that Frankie’s vitals all look good. He was shot in the head but it was just scraped and didn’t go in. He had a bullet to the chest which punctured his lung but didn’t go near his heart, and a bullet to the shoulder. He’s lucky to be alive but he should make a recovery as long as he’s stable.

Listening to the doctor, you are so damn thankful for the fact that Frankie pulled through as well as he has, hugging yourself as you hear the prognosis and what will happen going forward with rehab for him. “Thank you.” You murmur as the doctor leaves, letting you move back towards Frankie. You can tell that he’s about to fall asleep as you take his hand again. “Baby, I-” you choke out the words, new tears falling and you just squeeze his hand again, unable to get the words out. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed again and his breathing evens out as he falls asleep again. 

****

“Daddy! Mommy wants pancakes.” Ana declares and Frankie chuckles, “oh she does? I guess it is Mother’s Day after all.” Frankie says as he slides the pancakes he was already making onto the plate. “Come on then. Let’s go.” Frankie says once he’s got everything and Ana opens the door for him to find you holding the baby, breastfeeding him. 

“Happy Mommy Day!” Ana declares and you smile, looking up at Frankie as he holds the tray. 

“Happy Mother’s Day.” He says and kisses your cheek even though he showed you how much he loves you this morning before the kids woke up. “I’ll hold him while you eat.” Frankie offers after his son pulls off of your breast. You nod and Frankie takes the baby into his arms, certain that this is a dream. The life he’s always wanted with the woman he’s always wanted.

“I’ve been thinking.” You smile sweetly at the picture Frankie paints holding your son. 

“Yeah baby? What have you been thinking about?” He asks, looking up from Miguel to find you grinning at him. His heart flutters every time he sees that smile. 

“I think that once the doctor clears me, we should try for another.” You admit, chuckling when his eyes widen. “Have a set of Irish twins. What do you think?” You had cursed him while you were pushing Miguel out, but immediately apologized once the pain had passed and your son was in your arms.

Frankie’s eyes widen, “really? You want another one so soon?” He asks and you nod, “yes. Yes. I don’t want to waste time. It’s precious.” He agrees, knowing how quick time flies. “Let’s do it.” He says and he is leaning in to kiss you. “I love you baby.” He murmurs and you hum into his mouth, making him smile.

****

Frankie squeezes your hand while he continues to rest. Letting you cry in solitude while Ana still sleeps curled up in the chair. “I love you Frankie.” You admit quietly. “I’ve always loved you. It’s why it was so easy to offer to marry you. I- I want you to recover for Ana, but for me too.” Leaning down, you kiss his hand again, wondering if he’s dreaming. If he is, you hope that it's a good dream.

Frankie blinks against the bright light again, annoyed that he’s been dragged away from his dream of making another baby with you. The dreams were so real he mourns the life he had in those dreams and he opens his eyes to find you crying while holding his hand. “Wha- baby?” He croaks, throat still so dry and he wonders why you are crying.

Looking up, you press your lips together as you hold back a sob. Leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek and forehead, taking care to keep away from his bandages. “Oh god baby, you're awake. I - I’m so glad.” You pull back, knowing he is probably confused. “You were- you were shot.” You explain quietly. “You’re in a hospital in Germany. I- Ana and I flew out as soon as possible. I have been so worried about you.” 

He frowns, finally getting his focus, and he looks at you. “Shot? Germany? The- the others?” He asks, suddenly worried about his team. Are they okay? Is anyone else hurt or dead? His heart monitor starts to beep rapidly and he squeezes your hand.

“Everyone else is fine.” You promise, having heard what happened from the officer who had taken you to the airfield to fly out. “You took fire while you were trying to get soldiers out of a heavy fire situation. You were shot, but managed to get them back to the base before you passed out right after you set down your chopper.” Your heart had stopped when you heard how he had barely made it back to base, but you could only be strong for him. 

He’s still fuzzy but he understands what you are saying. He nearly died. He remembers the panic in his mind when he was shot, thinking about leaving you and Ana behind. Fuck, he nearly died. Fuck. “I love you.” He tells you breathlessly. 

“I love you.” You murmur, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“No. No. You don’t understand. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you. I can’t - I can’t live without you. You’re my best friend. You’re my everything.” He chokes, needing you to understand him.

“You’re my best friend too.” You promise him, thinking that he’s just telling you needing you as a friend. 

But Frankie frowns. “No baby, I don’t- I want to be married to you for real. Forever.” He manages, squeezing your hand. 

“For real?” You frown and then lean forward. “Baby, I want- if this is just some kind of reaction to being shot-“ 

“it’s not,” he insists. “I love you.” 

You lunge forward and press your lips to his. “I love you.” You tell him breathlessly.

He wishes he could reach up and cup your cheek, keep you pressed against him, but all he can do is kiss you back. “I’m so fucking in love with you. Always have been. Even with - even when I was with Janet. It’s why she left that night. We were arguing and I- shit. I’ve made so many mistakes but marrying you ain’t one of them. I love you. I love you.” He says when you lean back to look into his eyes.

Your heart breaks, knowing that you were the cause of what could be the reason that Janet was driving that night, although you know her actions were her own. You know that she and Frankie weren’t good together and you can’t blame him for the past. “I love you, Francisco.” You promise him softly with a smile, kissing him once more. “Will you stay married to me?” You ask quietly, not wanting anyone to over hear. “Make this a real marriage with me?” 

Frankie nuzzles into your cheek, unable to believe how lucky he is to have you. “I love you. It’s always been you. I- I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to start the rest of our lives.”

You smile and giggle happily, reaching up and brushing his hair back from his face. “I love you too baby. Now you just need to heal so you can come home to us.” Frankie’s deployment is officially over and as soon as he is recovered enough to go home, you would be headed back to the states so he could recover fully. 

****

“Frankie!” You huff, pushing at his wandering hands and pushing them away from your ass. “You need to stop. You could pull a stitch.” You chide, finding it harder and harder to push him as the weeks go by.

Frankie grunts, “don’t care. It’s been torture seeing you and not being able to be inside of you.” He admits, and he knows you’ve done stuff. You have sucked his cock and he let you sit on his face, but the doctor told him no strenuous activity. He hasn’t been cleared yet but every day it’s getting harder to not fuck you. He honestly wants to make love to you, something slow and sweet to consummate your marriage…finally.

You bite your lip and you know that he is just as eager as you are to finally have sex. Leaning in, you press your lips to his. “If - and I mean if - you can be good and be still, how about we compromise and I sit on your cock?” You know that Frankie wants to be in charge but he can’t. No with the bandage on his side. But if he could be still, you could ride him. “But you have to be still. Not trying to take over.”

Frankie pouts, aware that he can’t ruin you the way he wants to but he has the rest of your lives to make love to you, to make you cum on his cock while he fucks you. “I can be good.” He promises, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass. Ana is in bed and he’s so grateful for it so he can push his hard cock into your hip. “I won’t take over.”

You smirk, absolutely aware of the fact that he will try to take over. “Then what are you waiting for, soldier?” You tease. “Get undressed so I can fuck my husband.” You are already getting out of the bed so you can strip out of the t-shirt and panties that you had taken to sleeping in. Enjoying the way Frankie’s eyes wander over your body every night.

He loves seeing you like this. His beautiful wife. The love of his life. He swallows, throat suddenly dries, and he is grateful he isn’t wearing a shirt. His boxers are able to be shoved down and he pushes the sheets down the bed before settling against the pillows. “Baby. Come here. Are you wet? You wanna sit on my face?” He asks, “there’s lube in the nightstand.” He wants you to be comfortable. “And condoms…if you want.” He adds, knowing you haven’t been on birth control and he doesn’t want to push you in case you change your mind and don’t want to get pregnant yet.

He pants, fingers twitching to grab you. He desperately wants you, he wants to make you feel good. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.” He admits, knowing that the experience will be different than Janet who was a nightmare when she was pregnant. She was demanding and accused him of cheating, and then cried and begged for sex in the same breath. He had whiplash and tried to be there for her but it was hard at times. His hands caress your back and he leans in to kiss your shoulder, just breathing you in while you grind against him.

“Lean back, baby.” You chide, pushing his shoulder back gently. “I’m going to come to you. Give you what we’ve both wanted.” He feels so good against your clit that you can’t help but roll your hips, slicking up his cock with how wet you are and enjoying when his cock flexes against your folds. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“Fuck. Don’t tease me baby. It’s been torture.” He groans when you kiss him slowly, his hands squeezing your hips to encourage you. “Come on baby. I need you to fuck me.” He begs, rocking his hips to grind against you.

Taking mercy on him and yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around his thick cock and lift your hips. Eager to have him inside you now and feel his cum filling you up. The first inch makes you gasp, carefully bracing your hands on his chest but not putting any pressure on him. Wanting to make sure you don’t hurt him as you sink down on him.

Frankie whimpers, actually whimpers, when you take his cock inside of you. “Fuck baby. You- Jesus fucking Christ - you feel so good.” He pants, “I- oh God. Wanted this for so long.” He grips your waist, wishing he could slide inside of you on your back and make love to you.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his and slide your tongue into his mouth as you grind back onto him. Wanting to make sure that you get used to the thick heft of him inside you. “Me too baby, wanted you for so long.” You promise, your walls clenching around him.

Frankie almost feels like he can't breathe. His heart beats out of his chest and he pants when you clench around him. "Fuck, sweetheart. Feel so good. Can't - can't wait to feel this for the rest of our lives. So damn lucky." He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, wanting to worship you as much as possible.

“I’m lucky.” You start to slowly roll your hips, in no hurry to cum. You want this time to be soft and sweet. Not only for him, but so you can feel every inch of him scrubbing through your walls. “Love you.” You close your eyes as he kisses you, absorbing the groans and loving how his hands wander as you slowly ride him.

“Love you too.” He vows, knowing he’s going to ask you to marry him again. He wants a big wedding, the boys to be there and your friends. He wants to show off how much he loves you. After nearly dying, it’s put everything into perspective and he knows he is grateful for what he has. Others have fared far worse than him. His hands squeeze your breasts and his cock twitching inside of you, imagining them full of milk for his baby. The thought nearly sends him over the edge but he controls himself.

“Ohhh someone thought of something they like.” You tease, seeing the look on his face as he twitches inside you. You wonder if it’s the same as him. Imagining him knocking you up tonight. Your hips roll a little faster and you moan his name softly, reaching up and combing through his hair as your nose touches his and you look in his dark eyes

He chuckles softly, “was thinking about you full of our baby. When your tits get bigger.” He confesses and nudges your nose with his. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to begin our family with Ana and another child. It’s gonna - fuck - it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He murmurs, caressing your back.

You moan, imaging how possessive, how loving he will be when you are showing. Frankie seems like the type to worship you when you are pregnant. “I want that too.” You promise. “Have your baby, share that with you. Raising our kids.” Ana isn’t yours by blood but you love her like your own.

He nods, knowing he wants to ask you to formally adopt Ana and be her mom. He will preserve Janet’s legacy with her daughter but Ana deserves all the love in the world. “Fuck.” Frankie groans when you rock a little faster, his shoulder aches but he ignores it, trying to rock his hips up into you as you grind on top of him.

“Frankie.” You gasp out, clenching down around him when his cock nudges against your g-spot wonderfully. “There.” You pant, knowing that if he keeps hitting that spot just like that, you will cum quickly.

He hisses, concentrating on thrusting up into you at that angle. “Baby. Cum for me baby.” He begs, “come on, be a good girl. Cum for me.” He demands, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock.

You whine out his name, holding onto him as he takes control. 

He wasn’t supposed to do that, but you are beyond caring. As long as he doesn’t rip his stitches, he can take the reins and thrust up into you. “I’m gonna cum baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum on your cock.”

“That’s it. That’s it.” He groans when he thrusts up into you, his hands gripping your ass, and you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes baby. That’s it. Oh shit. I’m gonna-” Frankie usually prides himself on his stamina but the emotional connection combined with wanting you for years and the added ecstasy of you possibly getting pregnant and his near demise has him sent over the edge. “Fuck.” He moans your name as he cums, cock twitching inside of you.

It’s Heaven, the molten heat of his seed filling you. Making you gasp in pleasure as you grind down on him as he rides out his high, pushing up into you with short thrusts. “Oh god, oh god.” You collapse against him and kiss along his jaw. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.” Frankie pants, his entire body lost in the feel of his orgasm. It’s more than he could’ve ever imagined. He feels complete. His wife in his arms, hopefully pregnant soon with his second child. It’s his dream come true. He just wishes it wasn’t such a bumpy road to get to this point but that’s life. Twists and turns…Frankie still got his happy ending.

[its-time-to-write]

ugggghhh I love your writing! your style and just voice are outstanding!

could you write something with Jamie and a professional footballer (female reader) who are dating (but no one knows) and they are doing a PR thing for England or some ad campaign? And they have to do silly things and show how much they know about each other (like they have known each other since they were in school and have been friends for a while) but then Keeley catches on or something. Sorry if this doesn't make sense, but essentially it is Jamie and a professional footballer (female reader) relationship, thank you! <3

✌️😗

you’re a mansion with a view

There’s an insistent knocking on the door. It’s who-the-fuck-knows o’clock Jamie has been inside all day, lights off and dealing with a wicked hangover. The pounding on the door syncs up with the pounding in his head, and he Jamie shuffles to open it so the person on the other side can shut up.

He opens it to find you, mid-knock.

“Put a shirt on, Tartt,” you say as you push past him, grocery bag in hand. Jamie looks down. He’s just in his trousers, and for once he’s grateful that it isn’t the other way around.

“Fucking hell, Killer,” he groans. “Shouldn’t you be at training?”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that he used your football nickname as opposed to your actual name. “Nope. It’s five. Training’s done for the day.”

Jamie follows you to his kitchen. Why you’re walking around like you own the place, he has no idea.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks. “And how do you know where all my stuff is?”

You tap your head. “Our houses have the same layout. I can see yours from across the street, and noticed you haven’t been out in like, a week. That’s a record for you.”

Jamie rubs his face. “Fucking hell,” he says again. “So why are you here?”

You turn around from the fridge. “Figured you haven’t had a decent meal besides vanilla vodka.” You make a face. “Disgusting. Just because you’re not playing football doesn’t mean you can neglect nutrition, Tartt.”

“I ain’t neglecting my nutrition,” he replies. “Just…” he trails off.

You smirk. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought. The great Jamie Tartt, drowning his sorrows in vanilla vodka and becoming a couch potato. You haven’t even had any women ‘round to numb the sting. That’s new.”

You flip on a light to which Jamie groans. You flip it off. “So are you going to put on a shirt, or..?”

“Killer,” Jamie says for the third time, “the fuck are you doing in my house?”

You pretend to be digging in the grocery bag so you don’t have to look at his face.

“Saw your interview,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “Thought you might need someone to make sure you haven’t, I don’t know, died.”

Jamie knocks his head against the wall. “Has everyone fucking seen that?” 

You shrug. “Personally, I liked it a lot better than your season of Lust Conquers All. Lot more feeling in that one interview than the whole show, if you ask me.”

“So you saw that,” Jamie comments. This is far too many words for the headache he has.

“Yup.” 

“And you’re still here.”

“Uh huh.”

Jamie is at a loss for words. Everyone else has left him because of that fucking tv show, where he acted like the worst version of himself and didn’t even fucking win.

Doesn’t make sense that you, a midfielder from some women’s FC, would be in his house pulling out real food and making sure he’s alright.

For a moment, Jamie feels bad that he can’t remember what team you play for.

He thinks that this goes beyond neighborly duties. Sure, you live across the street from him and you’ve seen each other at various events, but this is probably the first real conversation you’ve ever had. He has no idea what to make of it.

He asks, “Why do you care?” then immediately cringes at the harsh tone of his voice.

You slam the fridge door harder than you anticipate, making you both jump.

“Because,” you say, then you sigh. 

“Footballer life off the pitch sucks sometimes. I wish someone had checked on me.”

“I ain’t a footballer,” Jamie points out, vaguely remembering something about your name in some less-than-friendly headline.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, Tartt.”

—

Five months later, you’re at some random football pitch in your full kit and far more makeup than you’d wear to a match. 

Some magazine is doing some profile on different footballers, taking photos with different men and women from all kinds of teams together. You’re not sure why you, a midfielder, are here with Tartt, a striker.

You’re not complaining.

“Oi, Tartt,” you call, “how does it feel to be scored on by a girl?”

(The photographer wanted some action shots of you and Jamie playing 1 v 1.)

Jamie scoffs. “My masculinity ain’t fragile, Killer. Just lucky you didn’t break any of my bones.” He says the words carefully, as if they’re unfamiliar to his tongue and he wants to get them just right.

“You know I have a name, right?” you ask, breathing hard. You’ve dribbled the ball back to Jamie and are standing practically forehead to forehead. “Like, a real actual name that you’re allowed to use?”

Jamie grins and drops his voice to a near-whisper, “Oh I know how to use your name, love.”

You shiver, trapped in his gaze for a minute. 

The spell is broken as the photographer shouts, “Alright loves, let’s stage some of you two together.”

You both turn to jog to the sidelines, where she begins posing you. 

“Wow,” she remarks, “you two have great chemistry. Usually I have to tell you footballers to act like you like each other.”

Jamie grins and knocks his shoulder into yours. “Hear that, Killer?” he asks, “She thinks we have good chemistry.”

You roll your eyes and feign annoyance. “Be professional, Tartt.”

The photographer asks, “How long have you known each other?”

You and Jamie say, “Two years,” in perfect unison.

“My goodness,” she laughs, “you two are just in sync today! How’d you meet?” You say, “we’re neighbors,” at the same time Jamie says, “at a party.”

You both look at each other. “We met because we live across the street from each other,” you say.

Jamie shakes his head, “No, we met a week before you moved in at a party.”

“What party?” you ask. “Pretty sure I would’ve remembered meeting you.”

“Nah,” Jamie replies, “You were too busy getting sloshed with your teammates while they all hit on Keeley.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Was I sloshed?”

“Yep,” Jamie says. “Properly. It was the end of the season, so makes sense.”

“Weird,” you reply. “My first memory of you is when you tried to break into my house because you were too busy snogging this model to figure out you were on the wrong side of the street.”

“Oi, it could happen to anyone!” Jamie says defensively.

“Sure,” you laugh. “Happens to me all the time.”

You reach out to steal the football that’s tucked under Jamie’s arm, but he’s too quick for you. 

“Give it!” you say, still laughing.

He holds it above your head. “Give what?” he asks innocently. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re jumping and trying to pull his arm down to where you can reach and are almost successful when he tosses it to his other hand.

“No fair!” you cry, “You’re taller than me!”

Jamie grins. “Oh, you want the football then? Maybe try asking nicely.”

You still. “Jamie,” you begin, “could you please give me the football?”

He’s still holding it high above you as he considers. “Hm.” He pretends to think for a moment. “No.” He breaks away from you and kicks it into the goal across the field.

“You can have it now,” he says when he returns. You’re trying so hard to be mad at him, but he has that silly little grin he gets when he’s trying to make you laugh and you just can’t fake a frown.

“Screw you, Tartt,” you laugh.

Jamie raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to reply when he’s cut off by the photographer.

“You two get along really well,” she says. “I think you’d be cute together.”

You blush and Jamie says, “I fucking hope so. She’s my girlfriend. Oi, d’you want a picture of us kissing?”

“No she doesn’t,” you say.

“Yes she does,” Jamie says. “We’re fucking adorable, babe. Football’s power couple. Behind Posh and Becks, of course,” he says as an afterthought. 

“Fine,” you say, “One. Then I’m getting that football and your ass is grass, Tartt.”

Jamie grins. “Fine by me, love.”

He leans in to kiss you but you pull away at the last second, sprinting toward the football still under the goalposts. Did he really think you were going to play fair?

[rosewaterandivy]

Ernest Frank only has lovely things to say about you

Another Thursday morning in Mr. Moore’s home room to which Eddie is, as always, late. He prizes the white tardy slip between his fingers and tosses it on the baseball coach’s desk before slipping into his usual seat.

Right behind you, of course.

The composition book slaps against the wood laminate of the desk while he scrambles for a pen in his bag. His hand flexes in the various recesses of the backpack only to come up empty.

He sighs and rolls his head back to stare at the white ceiling tiles. He contemplates his options.

Eddie could ask Wheeler or Buckley, both only a row or two over from him and obnoxiously prepared for a day of classes.

Or he could ask you and risk disrupting your reading of… Dune? A book he definitely fell asleep reading and subsequently had given up the ghost only to reread The Fellowship of the Ring once more.

Only he’d never exactly gotten the courage to speak to you despite his many opportunities to do so. As member for NHS, it’d been a near miss that he’d lucked out with Wheeler as his tutor instead of you. And on one particular Hellfire night when he was walking back to the drama room, he’d passed the debate club mid-Lincoln Douglas prep when you’d inadvertently made some sophomore cry over being anti-death penalty.

You were smart. And you were scary. You were scary smart. But in a way that made him pop a semi in Government during yet another one of your tirades about the separation of church and state while the rest of the class rolled their eyes and complained.

He eyes the clock above the chalkboard, hands counting down the mere minutes left before the bell for first period. And yet again, he’s wasted another opportunity to talk to you.

Slinging a bag over your shoulder, you give him a small smile and wave to Nancy on your way out.

The bell trills out signaling yet another educational experience at Hawkins High, when he spies a worn and battered book left behind in your desk.

Grabbing the paperback before he can think better of it, Eddie realizes that he has no way to get it back to you. The debate team leaves for a tournament today, which means you won’t be in class this afternoon to hem and haw about the three branches of government.

He pockets the book and figures he’ll get it back to you later next week.

At least, that’s the plan. But then he starts reading it again, your copy this time, and finds that he can’t put it down.

He’s so invested, in fact, that he does end up borrowing a pencil from Buckley and writes his thoughts in the margins. Doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until it’s too late. Just knows that he wants to talk to you about the Atreides and Harkonnens and the Kwisatz Haderach and the Fremen.

Eddie finishes the book just in time for home room with Mr. Moore on Monday. Drops the book unceremoniously on your desk and tosses his tardy pass to the coach as he takes his seat.

Holding the book in one hand, you thumb through the pages and scan his notes.

“Thought you didn’t crack books Munson, much less annotate them.”

“I read,” He quips back, affronted by your lazy drawl and smirk.

“Well, I distinctly remember you saying that you didn’t.”

“Much.” He supplies, smiling as you finally turn around with a raised brow. “I believe the question was if I read much.”

“And you said no.” You shake the copy of Dune, all 896 pages of it.

There’s a small furrow between your brows as you weigh the semantics of the conversation. He decides that it’s cute and vows to make you replicate it as many times as he can get away with.

“Well,” he sighs out with a slight shrug. “What is ‘much’?”

[bimrwolf]

Like a Random Tuesday in December

steve harrington x afab!reader words: 12,457 warnings: little bit of smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; the smut is very brief so plsplspls do not expect a lot summary: Reader had always had a crush on Steve, but he is not interested. Yet, when he starts to get closer to her, he realizes he made a mistake because it might be too late. a/n: hiiiii. long time no see for a stevie fic... i apologize university is... you know. i started working on this since NOVEMBER of 22' i hope you can enjoy it, because i enjoyed writing it!

Y/n was five years old when she had her first kiss. She was part of the Dribbling Tots basketball team that her father had forced her to be part of. He had grown up as a sports guy, having met her mother at college while he played linebacker. 

Although his first child was a girl, that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to make sure she would be the first woman in the NFL. Sadly, she was too young to join the PeeWee football team, so he had to settle for the next best thing. 

But at five years old, Y/n didn’t understand the reason she was forced to play this game, and her fine motor skills were still below average, dribbling the really bouncy ball was hard. As an only child she wasn’t used to sharing her belongings either, so when a small chubby boy stole the ball from her, she crossed her arms across her chest and began to wail as loud as she could. Her father was one of the coaches and he tried to calm her down, but she wouldn’t budge. 

The small chubby boy had come back to her, ball in his hand and held it out for her. The coach for the other team started to yell at him, “Steve, that’s not how we play basketball, son!” But the boy ignored him. 

She sniffled, looking at the orange ball in his tiny hands. “That wasn’t nice.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He let the ball drop out of his hands and walked up to her, his innocent brown eyes nearly made her tears dry. His arms wrapped around her and she could hear the echoed “aws” from mothers watching. He broke apart from her but not without leaning in and placing a small kiss on her lips like she had seen her father do to her mother anytime she was upset. 

One would think maybe that was when Y/n first had her crush on Steve Harrington. And maybe if she really thought about it, that’s when it began. Except, that stomach drop feeling and heart racing never occurred until the seventh grade on a random Tuesday in December. He had shown up to class late, rummaged through his backpack and sighed before looking behind him. She didn’t notice at first because she was etching her pencil into the desk. 

“Hey.” He tapped his finger on the wooden desk. 

She looked up at him, surprised, Steve Harrington hadn’t really talked to her since grade school. “Uh… hey?” 

He gave her a charming smile, running his fingers through his hair which had recently been cut. “Do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?” 

She had given him one of her favorite pencils, only a tiny scratch had been on it. Okay, it wasn’t her favorite, but when he had returned it at the end of class it became her most prized possession the rest of the school year. Well, until she lost it. But her crush never subdued throughout school. 

Even watching the goofy big tooth boy grow taller, stronger, and more attractive she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up whenever he was near. Her friends would tease her at lunch when she would stop mid-sentence because Steve had just stood up and caught a chicken nugget in the air or she would giggle at a joke she listened to. 

But one thing was she never told him. Not once. Y/n saw the type of girls Steve Harrington went out with and she definitely was not the small and petite Nancy Wheeler. It seemed like her feelings towards Steve would be nothing more than a school girl crush. In fact, she had rarely thought about the dark haired boy since prom. Because although he looked sad, he looked pretty. And she swore he was about to ask her to dance until some redhead jumped in front of him. That was until he decided to start working at Family Video. 

Keith mentioned there would be two new employees and all the training was on her, per usual. Y/n was Keith’s underpaid assistant but she never argued because he would eventually leave and she’d be crowned the new manager. But she didn’t expect on a Saturday morning that she would walk in to see Steve Harrington and a short haired girl named Robin Buckley waiting outside for their first ever shift. 

She tried her best not to fumble her keys while unlocking the door or run into the cart of returned movies that the closers conveniently forgot to put away. She tried at least. The cart hit her hip so hard it fell down. She immediately cursed under her breath, bending down to pick up the spilled tapes on the ground. 

Both new employees jumped to help her as she sputtered apologies and they didn’t have to help. Her breath hitched. Steve’s shoulder brushed against hers as he reached for a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s and suddenly she was back in Mrs. Robinson’s pre-cal class, warm cheeks, and that flip in her stomach that told her maybe her school girl crush hadn’t gone away. Lucky for her, she was the one who had been given the weekly task to make the schedule. She had ensured to never have a shift with him– at least alone. 

She thought it wasn’t obvious she was actively avoiding him until one day he had come in with lunch for Robin. Except, Robin had already gone down the street to Dairy Queen with a friend. Steve’s face dropped when Y/n had broke the news to him. One would think him and Robin were together but it took three hours for her to come to the conclusion that they were nothing more than platonic. 

Steve set the bag on the counter. He ran a hand through his hair, a strand fell down to his forehead, and she pathetically had to turn around to make sure she wasn’t drooling. “Do you want to eat lunch together?” 

She froze. “W-what?” 

Steve had already started to unpack the brown bag, shoving a fry in his mouth. “I don’t know what you like on your burger. Robin is weird and hates everything except cheese and pickles.” It was difficult to understand him with his mouth full of more salty fries and the fact she was still stunned. Steve must have noticed how she didn’t budge, staring at him with wide eyes because he looked up, tilting his head. “You're not hungry? Wait, don’t tell me. Are you one of those vegetarians? If you are, that's totally okay… you can eat my fries! Fries are a vegetable, right?” 

She put her hand up. “No… I’m… thank you.” That was all she could manage to say before she grabbed the wrapped burger on the counter to take a bite. 

“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Steve wiped a dot of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “You never did in school.” 

She giggled. “You never talked to me in school.”

“I didn’t?” 

She tapped her chin and looked up as she pretended to go through her memories. “I recall one conversation when you asked to borrow a pencil.” 

Steve made a sound and motioned his hands at her. “See!” His laugh was infectious, silky, and warm. 

She had rolled her eyes, cheeks heated and stomach fluttered. “It’s okay. I never expected Steve Harrington to talk to someone like me.” 

It wasn’t dramatic but his face dropped and eyes averted elsewhere. He took another bite of his burger, slow and deep in thought. She wanted to apologize. It was a harmless joke. Yet, she could tell his old self was a sore subject. “Sorry I was an idiot back then. So, don’t say that about yourself. You’re pretty cool.” 

She looked down at her burger, avoiding the toothy grin plastered on his face. “You think I’m cool?” 

Steve shoved the last bite of his burger in his mouth, shrugging. “Yeah of course you’re cool. You’re the one who convinced Keith to let us put a coffee machine in the break room.”

Her face fell briefly. “Yeah… um thank you again for the burger but I need to get back to work before the rush.” She was lying, and he knew that. There was never a rush until the evening. 

He coughed awkwardly, grabbing his trash off the counter so he could place it in the bin. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

She only gave him a small smile, sighing in relief when the door chimed as Robin walked in, eyes wide at the sight of Steve. “I didn’t know you were working today?” 

“I brought you lunch,” he answered with a bored tone, walking towards her. 

“Oh… I was on a…” She looked over at the girl rewinding tapes, pretending not to listen to their conversation. “I was hanging out with April.” 

Steve’s eyes widened. “April from the corner store? With the…?” He grabbed imaginary boobs. 

Robin rolled her eyes, hitting him in the chest. “Gross, Steve. Are there any fries left? I’m still starving.” She grabbed the empty sack out of his hand, frowning. “I thought you said you brought me lunch?” 

Steve made a sound, glancing at the girl behind the counter. “I had lunch with Y/n instead.” 

Robin’s face contorted into something Steve knew all too well– mischief and curiosity. Robin loved to jump to conclusions. 

“Stop,” he whispered so only she could hear. He started to mess with some tapes on a shelf so it looked less suspicious. 

Robin threw her hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

He narrowed his eyes looking back at the girl who was oblivious to the conversation and then back at his best friend. “She’s not my type.”

“I wasn’t your type either.” She jabbed back.

He blew a sigh out of his nose, opening his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He looked back at the girl.

Robin leaned closer, also bringing her voice to a whisper. “She definitely has a crush on you.” She snorted when Steve fumbled with a tape in his hand before placing it back. However, Robin took it and put it in a different spot– the correct spot. 

“She does not. She doesn’t even talk to me!” He had said the last part a little too loud, but fortunately for him she had slipped into the storage room. Her ears were out of range of their conversation. 

Robin thumped him on the forehead. “You dingus. She doesn’t talk to you because she has a crush on you, duh.” 

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. “Even if she does have a crush on me. I’m not interested.” 

Robin shook her head in disbelief, handing him the empty sack back. “Right. Because she’s not your type.” She didn’t allow him to answer, ending the conversation by telling him she’d see him later. 

And of course, it took Robin exactly twenty-seven minutes to interrogate Y/n about Steve. Business was slower than usual, and her boredom turned into twenty questions. Robin had learned more about her co-worker in fifteen minutes than the few months she had been working there.

Her favorite food, color, and astrology chart. And now she was down to her last few questions. She needed to use them wisely. “So… what do you think about Steve?” Robin tried to be nonchalant. 

Y/n didn’t react, but she noticed the way her shoulders tensed up. “Not sure what you mean by that.” 

Robin shrugged, twirling a strand of hair around her finger mindlessly. “Oh… he just mentioned something to me. It’s probably nothing.” With her plan, she walked off, pushing the cart of returned tapes around, taking her sweet time to find their right places. 

“Oh.” Was all Y/n had said before a customer walked in. But as soon as they walked out, Y/n joined Robin by the Horror section. “I’m curious. What did he say?”

Robin motioned her hand in a circle. “You know, this and that. How he thinks you hate him because you ignore him all the time.” It was a stretched lie. But it was her bait, and by the expression on the girl’s face, she was hooked. 

“I… don’t hate Steve. Does he really think that?” Her face was full of concern. She even looked so worried her face was green as if she wanted to throw up. 

Robin had to hold in the laughter. “It’s okay. I know it’s because you have a crush on him.” 

She pushed the cart away, leaving Y/n behind. Her mouth had fallen open from shock. “W-what? No I don’t!” 

“Okay,” Robin hummed. 

“Even if I did like him. That’s not why I ignore him. It's a coincidence,” she continued. 

“Don’t you make the schedules?” Robin’s brow rose, putting the last tape away. She leaned on the cart. 

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “I do not have a crush on him.”

“You already said that.” 

“And I’m repeating it because I feel like you don’t believe me.” 

“Because I don’t believe you.” 

The two stared at one another, neither wanted to break first. Y/n had always gotten along with Robin, but she never considered her a close enough friend to be asked such personal questions. She never went around trying to dive deeper into Robin’s romantic affairs.

Not that she ever saw her flirt with anyone that came in or talk about the very few cute boys that rolled in and out of Family Video. 

It was Y/n who finally broke, the sound of the door chime turning her attention to an older woman hobbling in. The rest of the shift the two girls didn’t speak. But Y/n occasionally caught Robin looking over at her, a smirk plastered on her face. It was like Robin had figured everything out about her.

***

The inevitable occurred. It was Thursday, but not just any Thursday. It was Halloween. And Robin Buckley had caught the flu. Not only did Keith force her to cancel all of her late night plans, but Y/n had to work with Steve Harrington– alone.

She dreaded the shift as soon as she pulled up to her designated parking spot. Steve’s sleek BMW parked right next to it. Normally when she parked next to him, she always caught him doing his hair or checking to make sure his teeth were still white.

But today, there was no sign of him waiting in the car before their shift. Before she could question it, the door to Family Video opened, two girls came out giggling. Steve was the one holding the door. She couldn’t help it but to roll her eyes. 

When he saw her get out of the car, he tilted his head, smiled softly, and waved at her. It was more than odd to see him show up before her. Keith already had a file full of tardiness warnings. “Nice costume.” Steve kept the door held open for her as she walked up to the store.

She instinctively touched the cat ears on her head. Steve followed close behind her back into the store. There were only a few customers browsing the store when she walked in. “Yeah, well thanks to Robin my plans on staying home doing nothing turned into scrambling to find something quick.”

Steve reached out and poked the orange and black ears, sniggering. “It wasn’t a requirement to wear a costume.”

She swatted his hand away and put a hand on her hip. “I know that. But it makes the shift more fun.” 

“You could’ve made it more fun for me and dressed as one of the Pussycats.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Her cheeks heated up. Y/n walked to the counter and picked up the folder for the closing shift check-list, scanning what needed to be done. 

She glanced at the brunette who had followed her. He leaned against the counter, watching her. “If you should know, I was Josie last year for Halloween. This is my work appropriate costume.” She looked him up and down. “It’s a shame you didn’t want to dress up. You would have made a good Alan.”

His brows furrowed. “Who’s Alan?” 

“The Pussycat’s roadie and Josie’s boyfriend.” Her eyes widened at what she had just said. She turned to face him, shaking her head violently. “I- I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Steve licked his lips and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something important. “I’m going to go check on our customers.” 

She wanted to kick herself watching Steve give an awkward tightlipped smile, and walk away to the other side of the store. Instead, she had to put on a fake smile as she checked out customers. This was the exact reason she avoided being alone with him. Her awkward nature was always illuminated in her conversations. 

And it seemed like the night only dragged excruciatingly slow. Occasionally groups of teenagers would come in like a herd, Steve scolding them not to run around. And then there were periods of times that it was just the two of them. The only sound came from the ticking of the clock and the film that was playing on the TV above the counter. 

Then three familiar boys stormed into the store. There was a short curly-haired one, looking around as if he was on a mission. “Steve!” He had shouted towards her co-worker who was fixing a display. 

Steve turned around with a huge smile. “Henderson!” 

She couldn’t help but watch in bewilderment as the two greeted one another. “Where’s Robin?” The tall scrawny dark-haired boy of the group asked, coming up to the counter to get a piece of candy from a bowl that Keith had put out. 

“Sick,” Steve answered him. He looked over at Y/n, who stood awkwardly as the three boys all made a sound of disappointment. 

“Does this mean we can’t-” The curly haired boy’s words were cut off because Steve thumped him in the head, giving him a warning look. “What was that for?” He rubbed the spot, confused.

The other two boys kept quiet, as if they knew why Steve had tried to shut the boy up. “Let’s just go Dustin.” The dark skinned boy said. He motioned his eyes towards Y/n.

“Oh.” Dustin nodded, looking over at her. He gave her a toothy grin, his braces gleaming from the fluorescent lights. “Right… uh… well I guess we’ll see you later, Steve.” 

The three boys all gave a disappointed sigh, their shoulders slouched as they made their way towards the door. 

“Wait,” Y/n called out. The three boys stopped, turning around quickly. “You boys didn’t come in here to rent an R-rated movie… did you?” She raised a brow. 

They all looked at one another.

“Or did you? Because my co-worker here lets you?” She tilted her head, trying to hold back the laughter from interrogating them. They gave a panicked look towards Steve, who was pretending not to listen. She looked over at him, narrowing her eyes. “But Steve wouldn’t do that. Because he knows that’s a fireable offense, right?” 

Steve stuttered, trying to come up with the words. “Uh… yeah… right.” 

“And as one of the leader’s, it’s my duty to write you up if I see you let fourteen year-olds rent an R-rated movie.” Steve looked down at the ground, avoiding her glare from being caught red-handed. Y/n let out a sigh. “I’m going to the backroom to get something. Since I can’t see the store or anything that happens while I’m in there, will you make sure any customers are taken care of while I’m gone?” 

Steve looked up at her. He was unsure what to say. So, he just nodded. 

Y/n eyed the three boys, giving them a small smile before walking to the back. She could hear them quietly celebrate as she entered the backroom. Of course, there was nothing for her to get or do in there. She was waiting until she heard the boys say bye, and ring of the bell, letting her know they were gone. 

When she came back out, Steve’s back was leaned on the counter, arms crossed, watching the front door. The sunset streamed in, casting a glow on his tanned skin. She felt her cheeks heat up when she noticed the muscles in his arms poke out, his shirt sleeve hugging them. He noticed she had walked back into the room, standing straight, and brushing out his vest. 

“Your friends left?” She pretended to look for them even though she knew the answer, walking towards the cash register. Her back now faced him. 

Steve looked amused. “I wouldn’t really call them my friends.” 

“They come in a lot to see you. That curly-haired boy seems to be fascinated with you.” She smirked at the thought that The King of high school who was popular was now only friends with a bunch of outcasts. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess Dustin is like the little brother I never had.” He walked up next to her. 

She shuddered when his arm brushed against hers. “That’s adorable,” Y/n cooed. She looked up at him with a big smile.

Steve blushed, but smiled back nevertheless. In doing so, it filled the air around the two of them with something that Y/n couldn’t describe. But it was suffocating, pricking her skin into tiny goosebumps along her arms. 

He raked his fingers through his hair, sucking in his teeth. He was the first to break eye contact. “Listen, I um… wanted to talk to you about something Robin had said.” 

Her face fell, unsure what he was going to say. “Oh?” 

“Well, it’s kind of funny she would say such a thing. But a few weeks ago she mentioned something about you… having a crush on me.” He had thrown in some laughs as if it would ease the awkwardness. 

Suddenly, it felt like Y/n had forgotten what words were. She was frozen, blinking rapidly, trying to tell her brain how to open her mouth. It would be easy for her to lie. To tell him, no, that’s absolutely ridiculous. Nevertheless, she looked up at him, a pathetic look in her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but choosing to give a weak smile instead. 

Realization hit him. Robin's intuition was correct. He couldn’t help but look at his feet, blushing. “Oh.”

The reply was all she needed to hear to know his thoughts on the matter. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re not interested. It’s just silly feelings that don’t mean anything, you know?” Her smile was small and sad. “I’d like to be your friend, though. I’ve just always been shy because you’re Steve Harrington and I wasn’t sure how to talk to you.” 

Steve hated to admit her response was overwhelming and confusing. It was sure, he had never thought of her more than just a coworker. He gave a quick nod. “Right. Friends is… good. I’d like to be your friend as well.” 

There was a beat. 

“Great.” Y/n threw her hands up. “Then friends we are!” She patted him on the shoulder. And although her chest was tight, and a lump in her throat threatened to come up, she still smiled. 

The bell ringing forced their attention towards the front door as another group of teenagers stormed in. The conversation was dropped for the rest of the night. And it probably would never come up again.

They were just friends.

***

Robin typed on the Family Video computer, occasionally leaning back, looking at the office door when she heard raised voices. Steve set some tapes on the counter next to her. She jumped, briefly looking at her friend before turning to look at the closed door again. “What do you think they’re talking about in there?” 

Steve tilted his head, shrugging. “‘Dunno. Y/n and Keith have been butting heads for the past two weeks.” 

“Yeah, but Mr. Morris never comes in. It must be something serious if the owner wanted to talk to them,” she whispered. 

Before Steve could reply, the office door opened wide. “This is bullshit!” Y/n stormed out. She turned back around, pointing her finger towards whoever was in the room. “When this store goes downhill, don’t call me for help.” She pulled her work vest off and threw it on the ground. “I’m tired of doing all of Keith’s work and have no credit around here.” 

There was no reply from inside the office, making her scoff in disbelief. “Fuck this place. And fuck you, Keith. Should I tell Mr. Morris now that you’ve been sneaking tapes from the adult section?” She turned back around and stomped past Robin and Steve, stopping for a moment to look at them, but it seemed like there was nothing else to say. She walked out of the store, leaving the pair dumbfounded. 

Steve gave Robin a look. “I’ll be right back.” Before she could argue, Steve was running out of the store. He sighed in relief when he saw Y/n’s car still parked. He ran across the street, calling out her name, waving his hand in the air, barely missing a car coming his way. Whoever was driving was not happy because they held down their car horn as they passed by, flipping him off. 

He didn’t bother with apologies. Instead, he walked up to her car, panting. 

“Did your mother ever teach you how to look both ways, Harrington?” Although she was smirking, Steven took note of her puffy red-stained eyes. Dried tears clung to her soft cheeks. She must have noticed he was looking at her because she took the back of her hand to wipe her face. 

“Are you okay?” He placed the palm of his hand on the top of her car, leaning on it slightly, trying to catch his breath. He needed to get back in shape. 

Y/n, already frustrated, rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Steve. I just want to go home.” 

“Are you sure? It looked pretty rough back there.” He pressed. 

Her jaw ticked. “Steve, I appreciate your concern. But I really don’t want to talk about it. Especially with you.”  

Taken aback, Steve allowed his hand to slip down. He looked off to think for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just thought now that we’re friends… you might want someone to talk to.” 

She bit her lip and pinched her nose. “No, I’m sorry. I’m pissed off and I took it out on you.” Her voice was soft, slightly cracking. Yet, she gave him an assuring smile. “Thank you for checking up on me.”

He smiled back. “Robin and I are having a movie night tomorrow. You should come. I have a heated pool.” He could sense she was unsure with the proposal. “And there will be booze. If you’re into that sort of thing of course.” 

She sniggered, “Okay.” 

That next night, Y/n showed up to Steve Harrington’s house just as she promised. She knocked on the large double doors. It took a moment before it opened. Her brows knitted together when the curly haired boy from Halloween answered the door. His name was Dustin, if she remembered correctly. “You’re not pizza.”

She dramatically patted herself. “Oh god. You’re right. I’m not. And you’re not Steve.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Very funny.” He left the door open just enough to let her in. “Steve! Your girlfriend is here.” 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, we’re not-”

“Y/n! You came.” Steve interrupted her, walking into the foyer. 

She looked away quickly. He was only in a pair of swim trunks, a towel hung around the back of his neck. She had hoped he wasn’t serious about swimming. Even with a heated pool it was 53° outside. “Yeah, I had nothing better to do.” 

Steve laughed, then looked over at Dustin who was still standing there, watching the two of them, clearly amused. “Henderson, what are you doing?” 

“Waiting on the damn pizza you said you ordered an hour ago. I’m starving,” the younger boy complained. 

“Stop whining and go upstairs and tell Robin Y/n’s here.” He motioned Dustin to go up the staircase that was right next to them. And like a mother, when Dustin opened his mouth to argue, Steve held a finger up. “Go, now.” 

His shoulders dropped in defeat, doing as he was told. 

Y/n giggled. “He seems like a handful.” 

“No kidding.” Steve watched Dustin disappear at the top to go find Robin. “Just between you and me, I completely forgot to order the pizza.”

“I heard that!” Dustin yelled. 

Steve ignored him, but rather put his hand on Y/n’s back so he could lead her through the house. “This is the living room.” 

“I know.” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that in a stalker way. I meant it as I’ve been to your parties in high school way.” 

He chuckled, removing his hand from her back. “Sorry about that. I don’t remember much about high school. Mostly because part of me was so self-absorbed.” 

There was a beat. 

“Would you like a beer?” 

“Uh… sure.” She followed him into the large kitchen. She had never seen it so empty, tracing her finger over the marble countertop. “I never thought you were self-absorbed.” 

Steve paused for a moment to process what she had just said, looking over at her as she jumped on top of the counter. She seemed fascinated with his kitchen. He wasn’t sure why, though. It was just a kitchen. “I’m okay with admitting to being selfish and arrogant back then.”

Y/n took a cold can of beer out of his hand. She smirked, opening the can, letting it hiss. “I never said I never thought you were arrogant.” She took a sip. 

Steve couldn’t help but titter. She had got him there he had to admit. 

“Steve, Dustin said you forgot to order the pizza.” Robin’s voice infiltrated the kitchen as she barged through the door, clutching her stomach dramatically. “I’ve been studying non-stop and I think I’m about to die from lack of food.” 

Y/n’s giggle made Robin look her up and down, examining from head to toe. She then turned back to Steve, a painful expression on her face. “Please order the pizza. My life is on your hands, Harrington.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, taking the towel around his neck and swatting her with it. “You order it. I’m showing my guest around.” 

“You never showed me around,” Robin mumbled. He tried to hit Robin again, but she caught the towel and pulled it away, frowning. “You do know me and Dustin will abuse this power of pizza ordering privileges.” 

Steve looked like he was second-guessing his choice. Yet, he just sighed. “Yeah. Do as you wish. We’ll meet you guys outside in a bit.” He motioned for Y/n to follow him. 

She slid off the counter, giving Robin a small smile. “See you in a bit.”

And before she turned to follow Steve out of the room, Robin’s mouth twisted into a sly smirk. She then crossed her arms and gave a suggestive wink at the girl. Y/n felt her face heat up and quickly put her head down, scurrying out of the room to catch up with Steve. 

Later that night, Steve had walked Y/n to her car. When he walked back inside his house, he joined Robin and Dustin back in the living room. The two sat on the couch, arms crossed, and had knowing looks plastered on their faces, like mom’s who knew too much.

Steve ignored them and instead started to clean up the area. He had changed into a shirt and sweats, but his hair was still damp and clung to his forehead. Him and Dustin had been the only ones who swam. Robin and Y/n sat at the edge, their feet dipped into the pool, talking about who knows what. 

Although Robin and Steve had a lot in common and were inseparable since the summer, he couldn’t help but feel happy she had another friend who was a girl. Truthfully, he struggled fully understanding her. 

“Are you sure you two aren’t dating?” Dustin had been the one to break the ice, asking the question that Robin was wondering as well. 

She sat silent, but by her expression, Steve could tell she had a lot to say on the matter. The Harrington boy sighed loudly, not looking over at them. “I’m sure.” 

Robin let out a scoff, everything she had been holding in spilling out. “Are you kidding me? I’ve had to endure you two blatantly flirting or eye… canoodling for three weeks straight. But get this, he told me he turned her down when she told him she liked him.”

Dustin jumped off the couch, walking up to Steve.“Wait… dude, she likes you? And you rejected her? I thought it was weird when you and Robin haven’t gotten together yet, but this is even weirder.”

Steve glanced over at Robin, sharing a knowing look at one another. “Uh… yeah,” he coughed awkwardly. “She’s just not my type, you know.” Steve shook his head. This was unbelievable. Why was he talking about his love life with a kid? “Go get your stuff. Your mom should be home by now. I can’t believe I let her convince me to look after you tonight.” 

Dustin mumbled profanities, walking off to go collect his things. Robin on the other hand had stood up, not wanting to drop the subject. “You’re a dingus, Harrington.”

“I’m done talking about it, Buckley. We’re just friends.” He took the handful of trash and walked into the kitchen to throw it away.

Robin followed. “Give me one good reason she isn’t your type. Then I’ll drop it.” Steve turned around, hands on hips, annoyed. Robin held out her pinkie. “I promise.” 

He looked to the side and his jaw ticked. “I dunno, she just isn’t. There isn’t anything else to say.”

“You’re not helping your case-” He cut her off by groaning loudly, putting his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ. I don’t like her because she doesn’t really like me. I can tell you’re confused. I meant that she doesn’t really like me because she likes this version of me she knew from high school.”

She still looked confused. “Okay?” 

“Robin, you’ve seen my many failed dates. It has all been girls that I went to school with who had a crush on Steve “The King” Harrington. Once they learned that I was just some guy who had no actual plan for the future…” He couldn’t seem to finish the last part. He leaned back on the counter, arms crossed. 

Robin started to laugh, receiving a dirty look from him. “But you always know that’s why those girls like you because of you were. Why is Y/n different? Is it because you like her too?” 

Steve didn’t answer at first. He scratched his neck, standing up straight again. “She’s just a friend.” 

Defeated in the argument, Robin sighed. “Right. Do you know why she quit yesterday?” 

“What does this have to with-”

“She quit because Keith reported her for renting R-rated movies out to kids.”

Steve’s mouth fell open, unsure what to say. 

But he didn’t have to say anything, because Robin continued, “She didn’t have to do that. She could have told the truth and saved her ass but she didn’t. Now sure, she might have a crush on you because of Steve “The King” Harrington. But something tells me she might be okay with Steve “The Lame and Dingus” Harrington.” 

Steve couldn’t sleep the rest of the night once Robin and Dustin arrived safely back at their homes. He hated when Robin had the last word in their squabbles. And it seemed like this time it took the words right out from under him. 

He was unsure how to feel. Grateful? Guilty? Indebted? None of those made up for what Y/n had done for him. And she didn’t even tell him. It was an unconditional favor that he wasn’t aware of until now. 

***

Y/n hated to admit it, but she missed Family Video. Her days at the store were always different, even with the odd small-town regulars that came in. She hated that she even missed the smell of Keith’s tuna sandwich he always brought for lunch. 

Now, she was stuck behind a desk taking calls for an attorney who rarely had clients. At first, she was ecstatic her first day had been sorting paperwork, but if she had known it would only take her a couple of hours, she would’ve dragged it out rather than trying to be a kiss-ass over achiever. 

Unlike Family Video, her day was always the same. It was Hawkins, she expected to see odd cases come in and out, but most of the time it was the town drunks who violated their probation by drinking under the influence.

However, one good thing happened was at exactly 11:30 AM, Steve Harrinton would walk in with lunch. The first few days he had came, Y/n had already packed a sandwich for herself and it had gone to waste. She soon learned there wasn’t a need to pack her lunch at all by the second week. 

Steve had managed to become the new lead, meaning he had full control of scheduling. Y/n was happy for him. He seemed to enjoy having more control and privileges. And she imagined he took advantage of his position whenever he was on a shift with Robin. 

So, by now it had come to no surprise when he waltzed into the office, two bags in his hands, plopping in the chair on the other side. He always set his feet on top of the desk, which Y/n always pushed off. Even if she was occupied with a word search or book, it was an instinct. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” He smiled, teeth and all, knowing she would cringe. 

She let out raspberry, reaching over the desk and hand held out to take the bag. “What fine cuisine did you bring for me today? Wendy’s?” 

Steve laughed, handing over the bag. “My mom’s meatloaf.”

She gave him a look. Nothing had to be said to know that it was strange coming from him having a home cooked meal from his mom. Especially since a few weeks ago he had mentioned his dad had received a promotion, meaning more time traveling. Steve had expressed many times that Mrs. Harrington didn’t trust his dad on his own. 

She watched as he took out the contents of his bag. She had put the blinds up earlier because the sun was out even though it was December. Sunlight bled through, highlighting his dark hair that it almost looked like honey was oozing down his head like streaks. 

However, the moment was ruined when he shoved a bologna sandwich in his mouth, crumbs falling everywhere. 

“You always eat like it’s your last meal.” She noticed a drop of mustard on his chin. Sighing, she opened a drawer full of miscellaneous items, taking out a napkin. She leaned over the desk and wiped the mustard off his chin carefully. There was a beat where the two locked eyes, but she pulled away quickly, handing him the napkin. 

“I eat like a working man who only has a 30-minute lunch break,” he complained. 

She giggled. “I’ve told you my boss is looking for an intern. You’d get an hour.”

“Pfft. I am not cut out for the world of law. Although, my dad would probably be more than happy.” Steve ate the last bite of his food, rubbing his hands against one another to get the crumbs off. 

She only smiled in response, finally taking a bite of the meatloaf, her eyes wide as it hit her tongue. “This is delicious!” 

A laugh bellowed out of him. “Woah, slow down there.” 

Y/n didn’t listen. In about five bites the meatloaf was all gone from the tupperware container. A loud burp escaped from her lips, she shockingly covered her mouth from embarrassment. But she quickly eased up when she saw the corner of his eyes crinkle. 

She had noticed something different recently whenever she was around Steve. His touches always seemed to linger, or the sound of his laughter somehow stained the air around her. She wasn’t sure how that was possible, but even after he left the room she could still hear the rich sound waiting around, ringing throughout her ears. As if it wanted to taunt her. And not to mention his apparent need to always see her. 

She had told herself weeks ago she was over him. He would never like her. They both verbally agreed that he only saw her as a friend and that was all they would be. 

Steve coughed, attempting to break the silence. His expression made it seem like he had been trying to find the right words to say something. “So, did you see that Girls Just Want to Have Fun is showing at the drive-in on Saturday?” 

She almost jumped in her seat. “Wait? Really? That’s my favorite movie!” 

Steve smiled. He knew it was her favorite. Once he looked at her account and saw she had rented it a month straight once the store started to carry it. “Oh! I had no clue. Well, um…” He scratched his neck. “If you’re not busy do you want to go with me?”

“Yeah! I mean I’m not busy. I’d love to!” She grabbed her bag on the ground and dug around until she found her pocket calendar. “What time?”

Steve took a moment to relish her excitement, taking note how it made her eyes brighter. “Uh… seven.”

She nodded, scribbling down the plan on the calendar for Saturday. “That’s a perfect excuse to return Robin a book I borrowed from her.”

His face fell. “Robin?”

She didn’t seem to notice the shift. “This is so exciting!” 

“Do you think I meant… Y/n I was kind of hoping… what I meant was that I wanted it to be just-” 

Steve’s words were cut off as the front door opened. Y/n’s demeanor changed. Steve watched her closely as she sat up straighter, wiped her blazer of any crumbs, and looked at herself in the reflection of the computer in front of her. 

He turned in his seat to see who had walked in that made her react in such a way. 

It was a tall, clean, short haired man. “Hello, Y/n.” He was soft-spoken but somehow carried an assertive energy. Steve had to do a double take to realize it was Mike Lewinski. He was an old basketball teammate from school. And apparently over the summer he had had a makeover.

“Mike?” Steve stood up, allowing the third party to recognize his presence. 

“Harrington? Wow, man. I thought it was only rumors that you stuck around.” He looked at the Family Video vest, before holding out his hand. “What brings you to my dad’s office?”

Steve was hesitant, but took it nonetheless, both their grips tight as if challenging one another silently. “Oh… I was just having lunch with Y/n.” 

Mike looked over the girl who had also stood up in the meantime, smiling bashfully at him. “Y/n, I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone.” 

She shook her head. “We’re not together!” 

Steve turned around quickly from her eagerness to turn down the accusation. He faced Mike again. “Yeah, we have lunch sometimes whenever I’m not busy.” 

“Ah.” Mike smiled. Almost like he was relieved. “Is my father in his office?” 

Y/n stuttered. “Oh… yeah! You’re good. He doesn’t have any meetings today.” 

He smiled and nodded. “Good to see you, Harrington. We should go out to the Hideaway sometime.”

“Yeah.” 

Mike walked past him and towards his father’s office, stopping when he reached next to Y/n. She smiled nervously as he looked at her closely. “Did you cut your hair?” 

Instinctively, she touched it, smiling. “Yes, I did.” She didn’t. 

“I like it. It suits you.” Mike gave another curt nod, before walking into his father’s office. 

Y/n giggled to herself, sitting back down in her chair. 

Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t believe the monstrosity he had just witnessed. His jaw ticked the longer he thought about Meathead Mike and Y/n, in the words of Robin, eye canoodling. “You haven’t done anything with your hair.” 

Y/n looked up, brows furrowed. “Huh?” 

“He asked if you cut your hair and you said yes. You haven’t cut it. You just have it in a different style.” He pointed. 

She scoffed. “So what? I was only being nice.”

“You were flirting,” he argued. 

Y/n had had enough. She looked at the door behind her before jumping to her feet. She stormed around the desk, grabbing his wrist, and pulled him outside. “What the hell is with you?”

Steve pulled his arm away so he could cross them against his chest. And almost like a child, he looked away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” She had to walk away for a moment to take a deep breath privately before returning. “You’ve been so strange lately. And now you’re upset because you think I was flirting with someone.” 

“I’m not upset.”

“Right… fine. I’m not going to argue with you about it. I’m just having a hard time understanding you, Steve. I mean you go from not talking to me at all to coming to my work every day with lunch. Why?” In that moment, she hoped that secretly all this time had been his way of telling her he liked her. 

It was promising because he had taken a step closer to her. His eyes drooped, vulnerable and harboring a secret he had been holding in. 

When he saw her flirt with Mike, he realized that he had taken too long to decipher his feelings and thoughts about her. She had moved on and followed through with their mutual promise to be friends. He swallowed the thickness stuck in his throat, dropping his arms to his sides. “You’re right. I have been acting strange.” 

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat.

“I have been feeling something for weeks and I wasn’t sure how to express it,” he continued. 

The corners of her mouth lifted, stepping closer to him, grabbing his hand. “Steve, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

He looked down, ashamed. “I’ve felt guilty about you quitting because of me.” His voice was soft but almost ear-deafening at the same time. 

She closed her eyes to process what he had said. “You… you’ve been bringing me lunch every  day because you felt guilty about me quitting?” 

Steve nodded. “You took the fall for me and then I ended up with your job. I feel like an asshole.”

Y/n bit her lip, letting go of his hand. However, she smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to kill Robin for telling you.” 

“Please don’t. Her ghost will come back and kill me.” 

They shared a laugh. 

Steve looked through the window at the closed office door. “Mike’s a good guy.” 

“Yeah. I know.” She smiled sadly, looking at her watch. “Your break is over.” 

Steve took a deep breath. “Right. You know, about Saturday. I completely forgot that I have to pull a double so I don’t think I’ll be able to go.” He put his hand on top of his head, pretending as if it had just come to him. 

She tried not to look upset. “It’s okay. I forgot I have to babysit.” It was a lie. And maybe deep down he knew it, but he didn’t show any reaction. 

Instead, he left her with a half-hearted smile and dirty tupperware that he forgot to take with him. She had taken it home and washed it so it would be returned cleaned. But the rest of the week, Steve didn’t show up at his regular time. Anytime she called the store and asked for him, someone always gave the excuse that he was busy. By Friday, Y/n had packed her own lunch for the first time in weeks. 

***

Robin Buckley had never been a flashy person. She hated the attention on her. And she only said things to strangers if she absolutely had to. 

So when her, Steve and Y/n were at the diner and she brought up wanting to have an eighteenth birthday party, Steve was taken aback. Y/n on the other hand, squealed. “Oh my god! That will be so much fun. Don’t you agree, Steve?” They had only recently started to be okay again. But there were still moments when the energy between them was tense. 

He didn’t look at her. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Y/n hit his shoulder. “This is Robin’s only eighteenth birthday. Of course she’d want to have a huge party.”

“I never said anything about it being huge,” Robin interjected.

Y/n waved her hand as if she was waving off what her friend had just said. “Leave the planning to me. Steve can we have it at your-”

“Whatever.” He glanced at his watch, getting out of the booth. “I have to go pick up Dustin and his geek squad.” He finally looked at Y/n as he laid some cash to cover his bill on the table. “Robin can tell me more at work tomorrow.” 

Once he left, she let out a huff. “He has some nerve.” 

Robin waited a moment before replying. “He’s been pissy lately because Dustin has been hanging out with Eddie Munson more than him.”

“He’s so moody,” she complained. 

Robin only hummed. 

The party was more than what Robin had imagined. People she had never spoken to filled the empty spaces of the Harrington household. They had no clue who she was, but it didn’t matter because there was free alcohol and they were all too drunk to ask. 

Robin stood next to Y/n, shyly saying thanks to all the people who wished her a happy birthday. She took a sip from her cup, cringing at the taste. Y/n chuckled, leaning over to Robin, grabbing her arm for support. “No one’s forcing you to drink that.” 

Robin, as if proving a point, chugged the rest, wiping her mouth. “It’s my birthday. Once I get drunk enough, it will taste like water.” 

They shared a fit of drunken giggles. Y/n looked across the room to see Steve leaned against the wall, a red-solo cup in his hand, talking to a blonde. She felt her stomach twist and the only remedy was the rum punch in her hand. “I need to get laid.”

“W-what about that one guy…” Robin snapped her fingers trying to recall the name. “Meathead!” 

“Meathead?” She thought for a moment. “You mean Mike?” Mike Lewinski had asked her out for coffee a few weeks ago. Nothing had gone wrong, in fact he was nice, but their conversations fell flat and uninteresting. Both of them had agreed there would be no future dates.

“Ah, right. His name was Mike. I was thinking about what Steve had called him the other day.” She frowned when she looked inside her empty cup. Unsure where it all had gone. “I need more to drink.” 

The two girls walked through the crowd to get to the kitchen. “Why were you and Steve talking about me and Mike?” 

Robin’s shoulders tensed, glancing back to look at her. “Oh… uh… we weren’t.” 

Y/n could read through the blatant lie. She finished her drink rather than calling out Robin. She chose to drink a beer next, taking one out of the ice chest at the end of the island. She asked if Robin wanted one, but the girl didn’t reply. 

She looked up to see her staring across the room. Following her gaze, Y/n’s eyes landed on a tall thin girl. Her hair was fiery red and curly. Freckles scattered on her face as if a painter had flicked their brush. She noticed Robin was looking at her. She smiled sweetly and gave her a tiny wave before returning to her conversation. 

Robin had raised her hand, blushing profusely. The dots seemed to connect for Y/n. “You know, you should go talk to her.” 

Robin snapped around, eyes huge, like she had been caught red-handed. “I- wasn’t…” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Her name’s Vickie. She’s in band with me.” 

“She’s cute. I honestly didn’t expect that from you.” 

“Well, most people don’t expect me to be a lesbian.” 

Y/n giggled. “No, I meant I didn’t expect you to be into red-heads.” 

She wasn’t sure how many drinks she had had in her system by the time she needed to use the bathroom. The air had turned stale from the sweaty bodies that polluted the house. It didn’t help that people came back inside after smoking cigarettes or weed, the stench still clinging onto their clothes. 

The only bathroom that was open to guests was downstairs. The line wasn’t long, but it seemed to drag the longer she waited and the more she needed to use it. She leaned her body against the wall next to her, letting the chilled surface cool her hot cheeks. 

She stood straight when Steve stumbled through the hallway. At first he didn’t notice her until she slurred his name. He stopped, and chuckled at her state. “Why are you by yourself?” 

Y/n reached out and drunkenly grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. He didn’t fight it. In fact, he took his other hand and put it on top, his thumb rubbing hers. She went to her tip toes so she put her mouth close to his ear. “Robin is flirting with girls.” 

Steve’s expression seemed panicked. “How’d you…?” 

“Stevie, I’m a genius. I was bound to find out someday.” She giggled as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. “I let her flirt so I could wait in like to piss. I have to piss so bad.” 

Steve looked at the line in front of her, sighing. “Come on.” He wrapped his arm around her. Maybe to support her. Or maybe just an excuse to touch her. He led her away from the bathroom and towards the staircase. 

As they ascended, many people gave them strange looks. And some were jealous, thinking that Steve Harrington had found the girl he would spend the night with. 

Y/n had known Steve as a close friend for months, and even had come over more than she could count on two hands, but she had never been inside his room. It was neat and smelled like mahogany and his cologne. 

He let go of her, pointing towards another door. “Uh… there’s my bathroom.” 

She smiled, thanking him before going inside. It was fairly large. A long counter with products scattered on the top. He had one of those walk in showers with glass doors. 

She looked behind her just to be sure before sneaking over, picking up a nearly empty bottle of shampoo, opening and taking a sniff. Yep, it smelled exactly like him. Sweet but also like the outdoors during winter. 

When she finished and walked back outside, Steve was laying on his bed, legs dangled over the side, eyes closed. She let out a breath that resembled a laugh. She walked over to him, sitting on the side and looked down. 

A stray hair had fallen to his forehead. She couldn’t help but reach out and use her pointer finger to brush it back. She jumped when his eyes snapped open. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He groaned, sitting up. He looked bad. Not because he had drunk a lot but also because he looked as if he hadn’t slept well lately. 

“We should get back to the party,” Y/n suggested. 

“No.” He had said it quickly, like a snap. It wasn’t meant to be harsh, but he realized how rash he sounded. “Sorry. I had meant I wanted to stay here for a bit. But you can go.” 

She bit her lip. Surely he didn’t think she was going to leave him by himself. Instead of words, she grabbed his hand. Silently saying she would stay. 

A few minutes passed by of the two of them sitting in the dark room, listening to voices from outside. The moon casted a milky light through his window, making shadows dance on the wall in front of them. Y/n nudged Steve, laughing. “Am I super drunk, or does that shadow on the wall look like a dick?”

Steve narrowed his eyes, trying to see what she was looking at. His shoulder brushed against hers as he joined in her laughter. “Yeah. It really does.” 

“It compliments the room well,” she joked. 

He pushed his body into her side softly. “I’ll think about it next time we redecorate the house. I think my mom will be ecstatic.” 

There was a beat where they laughed harder, looking at one another. She had taken her hand away from him to cover her mouth. He had taken his hands and covered his face. Y/n took note how they were large enough to hide all of his features. 

The laughter subdued gradually, both of them putting their hands back into their laps as they calmed down. Y/n sighed to fill in the silence. “I’m going to go find Robin. She’s probably looking for me. Do you want to come with me?” 

“I think I’m going to stay here for a few more minutes. You know, so no one gets the wrong idea.” He smirked. 

She scoffed. “I think they already had the wrong idea when you brought me up here.” She smiled. “Thank you, by the way. I probably would’ve pissed my pants if it weren’t for you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

She pushed him slightly. “Asshole.” The pair locked eyes, making her stomach flip. “Seriously, thank you.” She slowly leaned in, hesitant, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. 

She pulled away to get up, but Steve’s hand flew to her wrist, forcing her to stay. She was shocked, a small gasp escaped her. Even though they were already looking at one another, he seemed to be searching for something in her eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his thumb swiped her cheek. “You had an eyelash,” he mumbled. 

“Oh.” The back of her neck started to feel warm. “Was that all?” 

“You’re so pretty.” 

And it was like all the energy at the top of the rollercoaster that seemed to build over the months had finally reached the top, falling. Their lips connected. And it was more than Y/n had expected as they moved like static rubbing together, electrifying from her lips to her toes. 

When she moaned, Steve took the opportunity to kiss her open-mouthed, drinking in the sound that followed. His hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer. It had to be all a dream. She needed to tangle her fingers in his hair unless he would slip away.

This wasn’t the first time she had touched his hair. Sometimes she would ruffle it when he was irritating her, or when they hung out he would lay his head on lap as she brushed her fingers through. But this time was different. It felt dirty. 

He was the first to break away, his chest heaving, lips swollen, and eyes darkened. He shuddered when she went straight for his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses to his ear, slightly grazing her teeth on the lobe. 

“Babe, I’m going to cum if you do that again.” He moved his head so he could place another kiss on her lips, then on her neck.

“Say that again,” she whispered. 

“What?” He kissed and sucked on a spot that made her gasp his name. “Do you want me to call you babe? Was that it?”

“Yes, please.” She dug her nails into his shoulders, clenching her eyes when his hand slipped under her shirt.

“You have no idea how worked up you have me, babe.” 

She placed a hand on his thigh, feeling the bulge through the denim of his jeans. She gave him a smug expression. “I think I have an idea.” She swung her leg over his so she could straddle him. Thankful for the skirt she had chosen to wear when it rode up her thigh slightly. She bucked her hips so that she could feel him twitch through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

The kisses became sloppier and more heated as they continued to roam their hands all over one another. 

Both their shirts ended up on the floor eventually. Followed by Y/n’s bra. His belt had been unbuckled to relieve him of the pressure. 

With his mouth, he peppered kisses on her breasts, putting one in his mouth as he kneaded the other with his free hand. When he broke away, a string of saliva formed from her nipple to his lips. 

He looked up at her, and he looked destroyed. 

It had been everything she had dreamed. So why did she feel tears brim her eyes? She gave him a fierce kiss again, but it somehow felt… wrong. “I…” Her bottom lip quivered.

“Yes?” He tried to kiss her neck again, but she stopped him. 

“I forgot about the cake!” She jumped off his lap, grabbing her bra and shirt, turning away from him to put them back on. 

“Cake?” He seemed confused, pinching his nose. 

“Yeah. Robin’s birthday cake. I completely forgot.” She hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Silly me.” 

“Oh. Uh… yeah.” Steve’s disappointment was clear. 

“Good thing I remembered. Or else we would’ve made a huge mistake.” She laughed awkwardly. 

Steve stood up as well to put his shirt back on. “Mistake?”

Y/n turned back around once she was decent again. “Oh come on. We’re both very drunk. You know this wouldn’t have happened any other way.” 

Steve let out a huff, running his hands through his already messy hair. His jaw ticked, refraining from saying anything else. No longer aroused, he buckled his belt and stormed past her out of his room. 

It was three in the morning when Steve kicked out the last guest. Y/n and Robin were the only ones left, cleaning up all the trash around the house. Steve walked into the living room where they were giggling. And almost immediately, the energy shifted. They fell silent as he stood there, hands on his hips. 

“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I made sure the guest room is ready.” He didn’t allow a response before he turned on his heels and left the room. 

Robin waited until she heard his door shut from upstairs before opening her mouth. “Jeez. What’s his deal?” 

“Who knows?” Y/n shoved a handful of trash into a bag, a bit too aggressively. 

Robin eyed her for a moment, rolling her eyes. “Jesus, you two hooked up, didn’t you?” 

She almost dropped what she was holding. Nevertheless, she tried to pretend not to react. “Not sure what you mean by that.” 

“Oh come on. You both disappeared for an unnatural amount of time and both came back looking like a hot mess. Also your shirt has been on backwards.” Robin smirked. She was smug and had been waiting for the perfect chance to finally say her deductions out loud. 

Y/n looked down, and sure enough her shirt had been backwards the whole time. Robin probably had noticed right away. Cheeky. “We didn’t hook up. We only…” She couldn’t find the right words. 

“Canoodled?” Robin wiggled her brows. 

Y/n threw an empty cup at her, and although she was embarrassed, she felt a laugh come up. “You’re sick, you know that?” 

The brunette shrugged. “You’re sick for hooking up with our friend on my birthday.”

“Your birthday isn’t until Monday.” 

Robin pointed at her. “That’s a technicality.” 

She rolled her eyes, looking up at the ceiling, trying to imagine what Steve was doing. “I think I hurt his feelings.” 

Robin sighed, making Y/n wonder about their conversation earlier in the night when her and Steve had talked about Y/n and Mike. Had Robin been in-between the whole time? “He’ll get over it.” 

She frowned and shook her head. “No, this time it was different. I said it was a mistake.” 

Her friend looked up to the sky, mouthing the words “Just kill me now.” She let a beat go by. “You two are ridiculous. It’s like cat and mouse with feelings. First you think he doesn’t like you, then he doesn’t think you like him, and then you do whatever the hell you did tonight and you still think he doesn’t like you. Everyone in a two-mile radius can tell you like one another. Hell, people in Illinois can tell. Should we tattoo it on both your foreheads? ‘I have a big fat crush on Dingus one’ and ‘I have a big fat crush on Dingus two’?” 

“Thanks, Robin. You know how to cheer a girl up.” Y/n’s mouth drooled with sarcasm. 

“I’d die for the two of you, but I can only take so much.” She clutched her heart dramatically. 

Y/n didn’t answer, ashamed, a sheepish expression painted on her face. And it all felt obvious what she needed to do and say. She could go upstairs right now and make everything okay between her and Steve. But, she was too stubborn and instead planned on forgetting what had happened that night. 

***

Trying to forget what had happened only lasted a week before she waltzed into Family Video on her break the next Friday. Steve was behind the counter helping the same blonde from Robin’s birthday party. She had giggled at something Steve had said, reaching out and straightening his vest. 

He looked over at the door, his face fell at the sight of his new customer. He turned his attention back to the blonde, and Y/n could hear him say, “Have a good day.” The girl looked disappointed when she had turned around, leaving the store. It was only the two of them. But why did it feel like there was so much noise going on? 

Steve watched her stand there for a few seconds until he decided to act busy. LIke she was another customer. 

She sighed and came up to the counter. “H-hi.” 

Steve turned his back to her. “Hello, welcome to Family Video. How can I assist you?” 

“Steve.” She was exasperated and wanted to get straight to the point. 

He turned around, pretending to be shocked. “Oh! Y/n, didn’t realize it was you.” He looked at his watch. “Robin doesn’t work today. There’s a basketball game.” 

“I know. I came to see you.” She lifted a paper sack in her hand, placing it on the counter. He had moved his head slightly, allowing her to catch the fading bruise on his neck. Her cheeks burned when she realized what it was. “I- I brought you lunch.” 

Suddenly, she felt like she was back in that classroom when he had asked for a pencil. The months of getting comfortable around him had vanished, and all words were stuck on her tongue, unable to escape. “I already ate lunch.” 

He was lying and she knew he was. He turned back around, ignoring her again. She felt the anger rise, she violently grabbed the sack, throwing it loudly in the trash can by the door. Just as she was about to leave, her hand on the handle, she took a deep breath. “I know I hurt your feelings, but that gives you no right to be mean to me.” She turned around. 

He was no longer messing with anything but he still faced the opposite way. She chose to continue, “I came here to make things okay. To tell you I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what you said or sorry for kissing me?” 

She groaned in frustration, putting her palms on her temples, rubbing them. She didn’t want to lose her cool, but he was making it painfully hard. “Of course I’m not sorry for kissing you-”

He snapped around. “But you still think it was a mistake, right?” 

She opened her mouth but quickly closed it, clenching her jaw. A tear betrayed her, rolling down her cheek. “Do you know why I first started to like you?” 

He folded his arms across his chest, motioning for her to continue. 

“I liked you because the first thing I learned was that you cared about others before yourself. It might sound silly, because it is, but when I was five years old, you kissed me after making me cry. This entire time I had just thought I liked you in school because you were Steve Harrington. You were cute and I couldn’t help but feel butterflies when you asked me for a pencil in seventh grade because there was a sparkle that shone in your stupid brown eyes. But I also thought that’s all it was, a school crush that I wouldn’t even remember in twenty years.

“But then you had to get a job here and make me realize how that guy in school wasn’t as selfish as everyone made him out to be. I saw it every time you made sure to be at the counter when Mrs. Higgins came in because you know she doesn’t like me. I saw it every time Dustin came around and you made sure he wasn’t in trouble. I saw it every time you came to my work and brought me lunch when I never asked you to.” She wiped the flood pouring down her face, trying to keep it together. 

Steve’s face had fallen but he continued to stand there frozen. 

She let out a sob, her lip quivered, looking at the ground so he couldn’t see her puffy eyes. “No, I don’t think kissing you was a mistake. I was only afraid because although the more I got close to you, and the more I liked you, the more I considered you a friend. And it felt like we were just hooking up. So it felt wrong.” She looked up at him, sniffling. “I’m sorry.” She gave him a half-hearted smile and left the store.

She began her walk back to the office, which wasn’t that far from the store. She had only gotten a few feet away when she heard the bell hastily ring, and hurried footsteps pounded against the pavement behind her. “Wait! Y/n!” 

She wiped more tears on her sleeve, pushing back the lump in her throat when she turned around. His hair was disheveled and eyes red. “You didn’t give me a chance to talk.” His voice was softer than earlier. More careful, trying not to upset her. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I made you cry again.”

“I-it’s okay,” she mumbled.

“No, it’s not. I let my pride get in the way.” He licked his lips. “You were wrong.”

“What?” She was unsure what he meant. 

Hesitant, he took her hand in his, looking at it and then back up at her. “What happened wasn’t a hook-up to me. I had been trying to ask you out for weeks but I thought you might have moved on. And when we were in my room at the party I couldn’t help but notice the moon made you glow. You looked beautiful, and I couldn’t help but finally kiss you.” He let out an awkward chuckle. “I definitely got carried away.” 

She smiled shyly. “You tried to ask me out?” She gasped, eyes wide, and covered her face. “Oh my god. That’s why you asked to go to the drive-in. You wanted it to be a date.” 

He laughed at her reaction, nodding. “Don’t worry. I was a little rusty. You make me nervous.” 

She smirked, poking him in the chest. “What? I make Steve Harrington nervous?” 

He rolled his eyes, but grinned cheekily nonetheless. “Can you blame me? I did just admit how pretty I think you are.”

There was a beat as they locked eyes. He reached out and put his hand on the side of her face, stepping closer, parting his lips as his face neared hers. 

However, she stopped him. She raised her brows and let a smug smile appear. “You’re going to kiss me even though you haven’t asked me on a date yet?” 

Flabbergasted, Steve laughed in disbelief. “Seriously?”

She took a step back and crossed her arms. Mimicking what he did to her earlier. 

He sighed and stood up straight. He then cleared his throat dramatically. “Y/n, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to a nice dinner tomorrow night?” 

She gave him a toothy smile, giggling. “I’d be very delighted.”

“Pick you up at seven?” He asked. 

She nodded. “Perfect.”

“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you then.” Steve took her hand, placing a soft kiss. He gave her a sweet goodbye before he turned around to go back to the store which probably had been left unoccupied for too long. 

She looked at her watch, seeing that she still had fifteen minutes left of her break. Smiling to herself, she chased after Steve, tapping him on the shoulder before he reached the door. He turned around, brows furrowed, probably wondering if she had forgotten something. 

She grabbed him by the vest, pulling him towards her, their lips crashed against one another. He was shocked at first. However, he melted when her lips started to push and pull against his. His hand wrapped around to the small of her back, the other on the back of her neck, pulling her closer. 

And they both felt like they were floating in the air. To her, it was like that random Tuesday in December, where her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded against her chest. It felt surreal. It was more than she had imagined.

[writingpastmybedtime]

You've Never Done This Before?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You really want to go ice-skating with someone and when Bucky agrees to go with you, you feel ecstatic. What you don't know, however, is that Bucky has never gone skating before.

Word Count: 1.8k, short but sweet

Warnings: None

Request: Yes.

A/N: I just love skating and the idea of Bucky never having tried out ice-skating made me write this small one-shot.

The team had been completely ecstatic when Tony announced that he’d booked a cabin for the whole crew for a long weekend. And not just any cabin - a cabin in Alaska, in mid-January, which meant that everyone gathered their snow gear to take with them with enthusiastic grins. 

The cabin itself was beautiful with three floors, seven bedrooms with separate bathrooms, a huge living room, a smaller library, and a gorgeous kitchen conjoined to a dining room. The night of the arrival was spent celebrating the previous year and all of the accomplished missions. Some drinks were had, some laughs were shared and by the start of the new day, half of the team had semi-serious hangovers.

You walked into the kitchen in the morning, to grab a cup of coffee as you took a look outside. The sun was shining, which made the snow sparkle. And there was snow everywhere, in fact, you’d never seen so much snow before. Smiling to yourself, you took a sip of the hot beverage as you enjoyed the view outside.

“How in the hell are you looking so good?” Natasha asked, her hair all dishevelled and a grimace on her face. A headache probably. 

You just shrugged, before grinning at her. “A wise man once told me to remember to drink water while drinking alcohol.”

Natasha groaned at that, as she opened a drawer to search for painkillers. You looked back outside when you finally saw a sight that made your heart rate speed up in enthusiasm.

There was a pond a few metres away from the cabin, it wasn’t very huge, but it would be perfect for what you had planned.

“Did you remember to bring your ice-skates?” You asked Natasha, as she finally finished drinking her cup of water and looked at you as she furrowed her brows. “You want me to go skating with you?” She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder before giving you a thoughtful smile. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’m honestly just regretting every single drink I had last night. It wouldn't be wise.”

“But you should ask one of the Super Soldiers to come with you, you know, seeing as their tolerance to alcohol is much better than mine.” You laughed with her at the comment before you heard footsteps nearing the kitchen.

“Ask us what?” Steve asked as he headed straight for the coffee machine. Your eyes trailed from him to the doorway, on which Bucky was currently leaning, his arms crossed. He gave you a small smile, which you returned.

“Y/N wants someone to go skating with her,” Natasha said as she pointed at the ice-covered pond through the window. “I’d love to go, but my headache is killing me.”

Steve looked at you and was about to agree when Bucky spoke up. “I can go with you,” he spoke with a smile on his face. 

“Really?” You asked, a small blush gracing your cheeks at his offer. Going with Bucky would be a dream since you’d been harbouring a small crush on him for a few months. The grin on your face grew when you saw him nod and you squealed, clapping your hands together.

“Perfect, I’ll just go change into something warmer and find my skates.” You said before you left the kitchen with a skip in your step.

Steve looked at Bucky with an amused grin and a raised eyebrow. “What?” Bucky muttered as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“Since when do you know how to skate?” Steve asked the man in front of him, making Bucky shrug.

“How hard can it be?” Bucky smiled as Natasha snorted and wished him ‘good luck’. Steve finished his coffee before nodding his head at Bucky. “Come on, man, I’ll lend you my skates seeing as you probably don’t even own a pair.” Natasha just grinned at the two men, excited that there was a window overlooking the pond. 

She was about to be entertained.

You had walked silently to the ice-covered pond with Bucky, just enjoying each other's company. What you didn’t know, however, was that Bucky had never been ice-skating. It just seemed so obvious to you, that everyone had gotten a chance to try it out once in their life, not considering the fact that for most of Bucky’s life, he wasn’t in charge of his decisions.

“The ice looks so smooth,” You said eagerly as you looked at the frozen pond and began to put on your skates. Bucky nodded, trying to hide his nervousness as he watched you tie your skates and tried to do the same. Fortunately for him, he had great balance, so he hoped it would all work out in his favour.

Taking a first step on the ice, your legs shook, before balancing yourself. You laughed as you looked at Bucky. “Careful with the first step, it's always unusual at first.” Gaining your confidence, you started gliding on the ice, your face beaming with joy. 

Bucky just watched as you skated, mesmerised by your movements and skill. The sun made your eyes glisten and the blush on your nose and cheeks from the cold was making you look extremely adorable.

“Are you coming?” You had now stopped in front of him with a grin. He nodded and you watched him take the first step onto the ice. He was a bit shaky but tried to stand up straight and make the first glide. Suddenly, as he was trying to understand how to move, he lost his footing and fell on his butt. You looked at him in shock, before you started laughing.

Bucky just looked at himself on the ice, before looking at you and scratching the back of his head. A blush was starting to form on his cheeks, which you found very cute, and then the realisation dawned on you.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Bucky smiled at you sheepishly before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I thought I could figure it out on the spot, but it seems to be just a tad bit harder than I imagined it would.” You grinned at him, before skating over to him and offering him your hands to pull him up.

He shook slightly when he stood again and you placed your hands on his arms, trying to keep him balanced. “Okay, it’s no big deal, honestly. I’ll teach you. It’s really easy once you get the hang of it.” 

Bucky just looked at you as if you were the most enticing thing in the whole world. He thought you’d be mad at him for not knowing how to skate, but you just smiled and offered to teach him, like it's the least you could do.

“Just place your hands on my arms and I’ll start gliding whilst pulling you with me, okay?” You asked him and gave him a reassuring smile. Bucky nodded, and he did as you said while keeping his eyes on his skate-covered feet. You began to move backward, pulling Bucky with you. Bucky wondered how you even knew how to skate backwards since moving forward was already complicated enough.

“Okay, you're doing wonderful. Now just start moving your feel like so,” You began to show him how to move his feet and Bucky tried his damn hardest to follow your lead. After a few unsuccessful tries, he finally started getting the hang of it and he gave you a wide grin.

“Just like this?” He asked and you reciprocated his smile and nodded. You moved like that for a few minutes before you began to let go of his arms. His eyes widened when he realised your intent and he grabbed onto you, making you laugh as he gave you a pout. Seeing a 106-year-old, 6” tall Super Soldier pout was a sight that not everyone would believe.

“Come on, big guy, you can do this.” You pushed yourself away from him, making him lose his grip on you. Bucky tried to keep his balance with his hands before he tried to make his first glide all on his own.

As a surprise to him, he didn’t fall this time. He was doing quite well, considering this was his first time. He grinned at you and you began to skate in front of him, still facing each other.

“Are you gonna teach me how to skate backwards next?” Bucky asked as you just shook your head with a laugh. “I’m afraid we have to leave that to our next lesson. We need to get you comfortable with skating the right way first.” 

“Oh, so there’ll be more lessons?” He quipped as he smirked and started skating faster. You realised that he was becoming more confident and you started adding speed as well. “Maybe,” you smirked before you turned around and began to skate away from him at a speed that left him stunned for a second.

He admired you for a while before a mischievous glint appeared in his gaze and he began to follow you. It was now a game of whether or not he could catch you. 

You skated in circles for a while, your laughter joyous and loud, before Bucky suddenly turned around and changed his path. Now instead of being behind you, he was in front of you and coming closer at a very fast pace. Before you could react, he stumbled into you, which made you both twirl as you gripped him. You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact.

He fell with a thud, with you on top of him. 

You both stayed quiet for a second before you broke the silence and began to laugh heartily. “I should’ve taught you how to stop before we began to chase each other.” He laughed alongside you and nodded. “Yeah, that probably should’ve been wise.” 

You grinned at each other before Bucky suddenly grew serious. He raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, that had fallen from your braid during the small accident. He didn’t remove his hand from your face, but let it linger on your cheek, caressing the skin underneath his thumb. You blushed at the contact, not being able to look away from his beautiful blue eyes.

“You’re absolutely stunning, doll.” He told you in a whisper and the nickname made your heart flutter. Bucky started to pull you closer to himself and you could already feel his breath on your face before a mischievous glint appeared in your eyes and you pushed yourself up to stand.

“You’re gonna have to catch me first,” you told him teasingly and began to skate away from him. He laughed before he sat up and looked at you, shaking his head but accepting the challenge.

He stood up and started to glide after you before he realised.

“You still didn’t teach me how to stop properly.”

Safe to say that the next time you collided, you weren’t able to leave his embrace.

[pokechbi]

I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you could write about könig and ghost finding out that y/n is a couple years older than them! How would they react? If you’re not taking requests feel free to ignore this!!! Thank you!!

Hi ♡ Anon ♡ !!! Tysm !!! I'm so glad you love my writing. Thank you for the very unique idea !! I was so lost at how to even go about this at first but once i started i literally could not stop! So ty! Ya'll are bringing me out of my writers funk fr im so so grateful 💗

JSYK: I know zilch about military stuff so forgive me for any inaccuracies!

WC: 1.1K ♡

Enjoy 🎀

♡Konig & Ghost find out you're a few years older than them...♡

König

During the time that the KorTacs and T141 had joined forces, you had gotten pretty comfortable around the newcomers. Specifically one big, mountain of a man named König. He was a no-nonsense man when it came to his work, but aside from his duties he fared to be a pretty decent friend that you often hung around in your free time. You often asked him about his life in the military, learning many skills of the trade since he was a Colonel, and you had only managed to grow yourself to second lieutenant, the lowest commissioned officer rank.

While you were on the topic of years spent in the army, somehow your ages came into play and while he was still protective of revealing his exact age to anyone, he lead you on with the fact that he was in his mid-thirties. You were no priss, so talking about your age was something you didn't mind. When you revealed to him that you were a few years older than him over lunch, he paused, taking in your new revelation.

"You're older than me? How can that be? You look so...young" He trails off, stabbing at his lunch with his fork. You glanced at him, a surprised look on your face as you chuckled. He wasn't the kind of man to give out compliments very often, so it scratched a new itch hearing him use them on you. "Well thank you, that's very kind of you, König" She replied, her eyes darting from his eyes to the table.

"You carry yourself very well. Physically and emotionally, so I guess it's no surprise that you're older than some of us." He continues, his German accent thick on some words more than others. You smile at him as you blush slightly, waiting for him to finish chewing so he can continue speaking. "There's a quote, by the German novelist Franz Kafka. Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old." He clears his throat. "So...never stop seeing your beauty, I guess." He pauses after speaking, standing suddenly as he walks away from the table, striding towards the door before you could begin to reply.

You knew his social anxiety had caused him to distance himself from people sometimes, but you had no idea why he was still anxious near you after all the time you'd spent together. You were only just friends, right?...Right?

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost was fond of you, unlike some of his other unit members of T141. He admired the way you carried yourself on the field, possessing a natural leadership instinct that he had worked endlessly, for years to attain. He envied you at times. He envied your ability to take risks without much thoughts of consequences, and you always trusted your gut. Which 100% of the time proved to be right. He knew it was some weird woman's instinct that always overpowered him. It sometimes embarrassed him when you outdid him mentally, standing your ground and showing him who's boss in front of his soldiers. While you were still under his command, he saw you as his right hand woman, always by his side to have his back when he needed you.

The team had just finished a debriefing for the new upcoming mission that you all were set to leave for in a few days time. You reeled at the information that was revealed, running your hands over your face in frustration. He sat by your side, trying to cheer you up with his sarcastic jokes and self-deprecative witticisms. Ignoring him, you shook your head as you flipped through the classified files once more.

"In all of my 37 years of living, I haven't come across a terrorist quite like him. Jesus." You sigh, standing to your feet as you begin to pace the room.

"Excuse me?" He stood suddenly, pacing over to you slowly. Your neck cranes as he approaches you, towering over you like a building. You hated when he did this. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him backwards. "Come on, Simon. Back up. You know I hate when you do that." You say frustrated, your hand meeting his hard chest as you swallow hard. He doesn't budge, staring down into your eyes as he bores a hole into your very soul.

"Never mind that." He disregards her demand, stepping closer to her. "You're...older than me? Since when?" He asks in disbelief.

You chuckle at him, the smile falling from your face as you realized that he wasn't making one of his stupid jokes. "Yeah... so? What's wrong with that?" You say, crossing your arms over your chest, causing your breasts to perk up the slightest bit. His eyes slyly graze over your covered cleavage under your tight black turtleneck, so quickly you wouldn't have caught it if you blinked. Realizing what he was staring at caused your stomach to flutter, your gaze shying away from his as you drop your arms to your sides. You were alone in the room now, the silence thickening the air between the two of you and making it hard to breathe.

"Uhh... No. Nothing's wrong with that, it's just..." He trails off, ending his sentence with a chuckle. "It's just that what, Simon?!" You press, raising your voice at him the slightest bit. Your blossoming friendship with him was on the line, and you gave him a stare that read: choose your next words carefully, boy.

"It's just that...It explains a lot. How you've always been so... confident. So right about everything. I get where that's all coming from now." He chuckles softly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, scratching under the hem of his balaclava. "Trust me, I like it more than you know." He finishes.

You smile at him slightly and nod your head, suddenly understanding why Simon had favored you all this time, the puzzle pieces all fitting together now. You realized that he liked the fact that you acted older than him. Your usual feminine maturity making him feel secured in his team. You made him feel confident in his actions, as long as he was by your side. There also might have been another reason he wasn't upset at all at this news, and that was because Simon "Ghost" Riley, had a thing for being controlled by a woman in power.

There was now a clear cut reason he'd tag along next to you in his free time more than usual, asking for your advice on career-altering and mission-making decisions. He trusted you, more than a friend, more than his soldier. He trusted you as his woman, even if you didn't know you were his yet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚