#desperately wish we had more content of these two... i love them :( that's her Baby Boy...

[roberrtphilip]

You silly boy.

[parkerslatte]

Fighter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: blood. injury. near death experience.

Summary: Azriel was severely injured on a mission and his chance of survival is low and his mate and wife refuses to leave his bedside.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Azriel was laid motionless in his bed. The only indication of life was the shallow rise and fall of his chest that seemed to get slower and slower day by day. On the left side of his bed, Rhys and Cassian sat looking helplessly at their brother before them. There wasn’t anything they could do for him no matter how much they wanted to. 

Sitting on the right side of Azriel’s bed was Y/N. Her hand clutched his still and cold one between hers tightly. There were dried tears under her eyes as she looked at her mate and husband before her. The blanket covering his body did little to show the large scar staring from his hip and ending at his shoulder. It was an angry red but Madja had calmed everyone that the redness would go down with time. 

“If only I didn’t send him on that stupid mission,” Rhys mumbled. “Then he wouldn’t be here.”

No one responded. The only sound heard was the rain hitting the window outside. 

Y/N brushed Azriel’s hair away from his forehead. After the mission it had been caked with blood and grime and now after many washes it was soft to the touch. She only wished she could listen to his small content sighs as her fingernails scratched his scalp. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Rhys,” Y/N replied after a while of silence. “He would have gone on that mission regardless.”

“But I could have gone with him,” Cassian said. “I could have protected him.”

“And possibly gotten yourself hurt as well,” Y/N responded, finally lifting her gaze to meet Cassian and Rhys. “Then we would be in a position where both of you could have been severely wounded.” Y/N’s gaze returned to Azriel. “I don’t wish for Nesta to feel the way I am right now.”

“You shouldn’t be feeling like this at all, Y/N,” Rhys said. “You two should be in your own house safe and sound.”

“Well that is an impossibility right now, Rhys.” Y/N’s tone was clipped and short. “I’m sorry to ask you this but could I be alone with him?”

Rhys and Cassian immediately got to their feet. “Of course,” Cassian responded. 

“If you want or need anything Y/N, make sure to ask,” Rhys said as he placed his hand upon Y/N’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be okay.” It was all Y/N said. It was all she could say. 

When Rhys and Cassian left she barely heard them as she let fresh tears fall. “Az, you need to come back to me, baby.” Y/N shuffled her chair closer to the bed, her knees knocking painfully against it but she didn’t care. “I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes.”

There was no movement from Azriel and it only made Y/N’s tears fall in a more rapid succession. 

“Madja healed you the best she could but she made no promises that you would wake up. But I need you to, my love. Please, just give me a sign that you are in there, please, just anything,” Y/N’s voice was full of desperation and she spoke to her husband. Y/N didn’t even know that something could be as painful as this.

Y/N watched Azriel for any sign of him listening to her. But there was nothing. No flicker of his eye under his eyelids. No stutter in his breathing. No twitch of his finger. There was absolutely nothing. 

Y/N screamed. 

***

The sun was high in the sky and Y/N stepped through the gate to her and Azriel’s cottage. It was on the edge of Velaris, far from the centre of the city. In her small wicker basket, Y/N had two fresh bouquets of flowers, courtesy of Elain. The blistering heat made Y/N wipe the sweat from her brow as she approached her front door, fishing the keys out of the basket. 

As she went to place the key in the hole, she found that the door was open the smallest amount and Y/N’s guard immediately went up. As her grip tightened on the basket, she pushed the front door open. Their living room was large but cosy, filled with many blankets and pillows of all different textures. The windchimes hanging just beside the front door sounded out as a small breeze blew bast. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out, reaching for the dagger concealed behind a painting Feyre gifted her. 

However, Y/N immediately dropped the dagger and basket as her mate walked around the corner. A smile immediately spread across Y/N’s face as she launched herself at him. 

“Hi, baby,” Azriel’s low voice whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around him. His arms making their way around her, his hand cradling her head. 

“You weren’t meant to be back yet,” Y/N said. 

“I finished what I needed to do early,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “The first thing I did was come here, even Rhys doesn’t know I’m back.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter, afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. It had been two months since Rhys sent Azriel on a mission and it had been two months since Y/N had spoken to Azriel. The only contact she had with him was the wave of love he sent through the bond each night, but that was never enough. Y/N craved to hold him within her arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N replied. “I would have stayed here to wait for you.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Azriel said.

“Well it has been the best surprise ever,” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug to capture Azriel’s lips with her own. 

Azriel dropped his arms to her waist, wrapping them around her tightly. Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. “I missed you so much,” she said looking into his eyes. The colour ingrained into her brain.

“Well you’ll be happy to know that I won’t be going on any missions for a while,” Azriel said. 

“Why? Are you okay? Did Rhys tell you to take some time off?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought of the worst possible reasons. 

Azriel smiled brightly. The smile only Y/N got to see. “I’m fine, Rhys doesn’t know that I am taking time off yet.”

“Then why are you? Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Y/N said, pecking his lips. 

The smile on Azriel’s face only seemed to light up his face further. “Well since you and I are going to be planning a wedding, I will have no time for my duties.”

“Wedding?” Y/N asked. “What wedding?”

Azriel reached behind him. “Ours.” He revealed the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen. It was simple but it was perfect. 

Y/N stumbled back. “Az, you can’t be serious?”

“I’m completely serious,” Azriel said. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“But we have already been mated for years and you have never mentioned anything about getting married,” Y/N said.

“I saw how you looked when Elain and Lucien got married,” Azriel said. “And I’ll be honest that I bought this ring nearly a year ago, long before the wedding.”

“You want to marry me?” Y/N said, tears springing to her eyes. 

“I want nothing more in my life,” Azriel replied, taking her hand in his. “It would be an honour to call you my wife.”

A single tear fell down Y/N’s cheek but she smiled wide. “It would be an honour to call you my husband.”

“So is that a yes?” 

Y/N nodded. “Yes, Azriel. I will marry you.”

***

Y/N awoke with a smile on her face as she reached to the other side of the bed, searching for her husband’s warmth. Only when she opened her eyes did she realise what her reality was. Azriel was still laying in the bed and his breathing seemed even shallower than it had been before she fell asleep. 

Her chair scraped the floor as she leaned closer to caress his face. His dark eyelashes rested delicately on his cheeks, Y/N had always been jealous of them. There was no small flutter of them at all. All Y/N wanted him to do was open his eyes. His beautiful eyes. 

“Please,” Y/N whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. “Please wake up.”

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway. Y/N hadn’t heard her open it. “I brought you some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, her voice void of emotion.

Feyre sighed and made her way further into the room. “You need to eat something, it’s been days.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, settling back in her seat but kept Azriel’s hand firmly clasped between hers. 

“At least have a drink of water,” Feyre said, offering a glass to Y/N. 

Y/N tore her gaze away from Azriel and looked at the glass Feyre was offering. She didn’t want to take it but her mouth was dry. With great reluctance, Y/N released one of her hands from Azriel’s and took the class of cool water. 

“Have you been here all night?” Feyre asked. 

“I haven’t left since he was brought in here,” Y/N answered. “I can’t leave.”

“I know that you don’t want to leave him, Y/N, but you need to take care of yourself too,” Feyre said gently. “Why don’t you get dressed in some clean clothes? I will stay here with Azriel and if he moves, I will immediately come and alert you.”

Y/N looked at her mate and husband laying on the bed. “I can’t leave because I know that if I do, there is the possibility that he stops breathing.” Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at Feyre. “And I will regret for the rest of my life that I was not there with him while he passed.” 

Feyre placed her hand on top of Y/N’s and gave it a small reassuring squeeze. “I have not known Azriel as long as you, Y/N. But what I do know about him is that he is a fighter. And above all, he will always fight for you, he will always fight to come back to you.”

Y/N sighed. “I know. And I will always fight for him. But this time it is different, Feyre. I have seen Az injured beyond what I thought could be possible. I have seen wounds like you would ever believe, but he powered through it. You never saw the look on his face when he appeared on the doorstep. He was scared, Feyre. I had never seen that look on his face before.”

Y/N took a shaky breath and stood from her chair and perched on the edge of Azriel’s bed. Her hand gently cupped his cheek. 

“I had never seen such fear in his eyes. When he collapsed in my arms he whispered one thing in my ear, ‘I will always love you both’. He did not believe that he would survive. He risked everything so he could see me one last time.” Y/N said. 

“‘I will always love you both’? What did he mean by that?” Feyre asked. 

“I’m pregnant, Feyre,” Y/N said and allowed the enchantment that concealed her scent to fall. “We were going to tell everyone after he was home and we had a few days just to ourselves. But it seems like we will never get the chance. I can feel the bond fading every single minute. It feels like I am clutching at air trying to hold onto it.”

“He will wake up, Y/N,” Feyre said, determination lacing her tone. “Even if I have to wake him up myself, I will make sure he comes back to you. I will make sure he will meet his child.”

Tears fell freely down Y/N’s cheeks. “I really need him to come back, Feyre. I can’t do any of this without him.”

“He will wake up, Y/N. Az would never leave you alone. In the years I have known you both, I have never seen two people so in love with one another. Whenever you walk into the room, he lights up. Whenever your name is mentioned he listens in. Whenever you smile at him, his shadows always seem happier. He thinks no one notices but we all do.”

“I love him so much, Feyre,” Y/N sobbed. “I need him so badly.”

Feyre shuffled closer and hugged Y/N. “He will come back. You will get to hold him in your arms again. He will meet his child and the two of you will live happily. There is no possible way on this planet where Azriel would let you live in a world where he isn’t in it.”

Y/N nodded into Feyre’s shoulder. “You make him sound like a stalker.”

Feyre let out a quiet laugh as she pulled away and wiped the tears from Y/N’s face. “Now let’s get you some proper food. Because you know that Azriel will kill you if he finds out that you are not taking care of yourself.”

Y/N smiled. It is small and barely there but it was a smile. “Yeah, he would.”

“I need to make Nyx his lunch so what do you say about sandwiches?” feyre asked. 

“Sandwiches are fine with me,” Y/N answered. 

As Y/N began to pull her hand away from Azriel’s, she felt his fingertips curl around hers. He head snapped to where they were connected. A small gasp left Y/N’s lips as she clutched his hand a little tighter. In return she was greeted by his grip twitching within hers. 

“He moved,” Y/N said. “He moved Feyre.”

A soft smile appeared on Feyre’s face. “He knows you’re here,” Feyre said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

As soon as Feyre was out of the room, Y/N sat back down by Azriel’s side. “Hey, baby. I miss you and love you.” Another gentle squeeze of Y/N’s hand. She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait until you wake up. It may be many months away, but our child is desperate to meet you. They’re desperate to hear your voice again. And so am I. I can’t wait to listen to you tell me about your day, about how much you love our small family. I can wait to hear a stupid joke you heard that you will only ever tell me. I just can’t wait until you wake up.”

Azriel didn’t squeeze Y/N’s hand again but deep down Y/N knew that he heard it and knew that she was there. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles before placing it down by his side once again. “I love you and I will see you later.”

***

It had been three days since Azriel had first squeezed Y/N’s hand and he had been making more movement since. His chest rose and fell in a healthier succession and there was the occasional twitch of his fingers, always in the direction of Y/N. Azriel was always reaching out in the direction of his mate and wife. 

Y/N still constantly remained by Azriel’s side, but occasionally took breaks to look after herself and the baby growing within her. Y/N had taken the time to inform the rest of the Inner Circle about her pregnancy and the news was greeted with congratulations but Y/N could tell they were holding back. The one other person who should have been celebrating with them could not be there. 

“I’m just saying that if it's a boy, you should name him after me,” Cassian said. 

Y/N had found herself once again in the company of Rhys and Cassian. Both of the males wanted to sit beside their brother in hopes he would wake up. Unlike the first time the three had sat together, the atmosphere seemed to be a little lighter. 

“Az is certain that it's a girl,” Y/N responded. “He wants to name them after his mother.”

Y/N looked down at Azriel with a small smile on her face. She could still picture his excitement when she told him that she was pregnant. Almost immediately he wanted to go out and start buying things for their child. 

“That’s sweet, but Cass can still be a girl’s name,” Cassian remarked, a teasing grin on his face. 

Y/N shook her head, a small amused smile creeping onto her face. 

Cassian groaned. “Rhys, when you and Feyre have another kid, what about the name–”

“I’m not naming our second child after you either,” Rhys replied. “Maybe go and pester Elain and Lucien next.”

Cassian laughed. “I still think it's a great name. You are missing out.”

“I’m not naming my child after you, Cassian,” A new voice entered the room. It was quiet and groggy.

Y/N’s gaze immediately shot down to the bed and noticed that Azriel’s eyes were opening and the grip he had on her hand tightened. 

Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes. “Az…”

Azriel groaned as he shifted his head to look at Y/N. As soon as his eyes met hers, Y/N felt the bond come to life and that was when she broke down. So many emotions filled Y/N within seconds and she threw herself down on the bed, her head resting on Azriel’s chest. 

“My love, I thought you were gone,” Y/N wailed. 

Azriel slowly moved one of his hands to caress the back of her head. “I would never leave you. Either of you.” His voice was quiet and hoarse, yet Y/N could hear the love within it. 

Y/N lifted her head to look at Azriel and noticed both Rhys and Cassian slowly making their way out of the room. She noticed the tears shining in their eyes. 

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N said.

Azriel slowly pushed himself up on the bed, wincing in pain as he did so. 

“No, no,” Y/N said, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve done enough resting,” Azriel said, settling back against the headboard. “All I want to do is look at my wife and hold her in my arms.”

Azriel gently tugged Y/N forward until her forehead rested on his. “I heard everything you said to me.” He revealed. “I tried to move, I tried everything but I couldn’t. I had no way to reach you. I never thought I’d ever see you again. I never thought I would meet our child.”

A single tear fell down Azriel’s face and Y/N hastily wiped it away.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, gently cupping his cheeks. “All that matters is that you are here and you are okay. We don’t need to think about that anymore because you are awake and here.”

“I love you,” Azriel whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied. “Just promise me that you are not going on any missions for a while.”

“I won’t be,” Azriel said. “I will not be leaving this court at all until our child is born and probably long after. I don’t want to be put in this position again. I don’t want you to ever nearly lose me again. I want to see our child grow up. I want to be by your side for eternity. No mission or job could ever come before my family.”

Y/N gently pecked his lips. “I am so glad you are here, my love.”

“I will always fight to get back to you, Y/N,” Azriel said, nothing but love in his tone. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”

Y/N didn’t respond verbally, instead she gently shuffled forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder. Azriel’s arms immediately latched around her, keeping her pressed against his body. Even when Y/N tried to pull away slightly to not hurt him, Azriel refused to let her. Y/N just relaxed into him. 

“Madja will need to come and check on you at some point,” Y/N mumbled. 

“Not right now,” Azriel said. “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Rhys and Cass will want to see you too,” Y/N said. 

“They can wait,” Azriel said. “And all the others can wait. Just for tonight I want to spend my time with my family. Just you and our child.”

Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “Then let’s just lay here all day then. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”

“I cannot believe how lucky I am that I have you in my life, Y/N,” Azriel said, the stubble on his face scratching her bare shoulder from where her robe had fallen. 

“I am the lucky one, Az,” Y/N said. “I am lucky enough to have someone who would fight so hard to come back to me.” Y/N leaned back from the hug and placed his hand on her stomach. “To us.”

“I love you,” Azriel said, wrapping his arms back around Y/N’s body. “I love you both.”

Y/N only hugged him tighter and that was the way the small family remained, completely wrapped up in their own little world.

[gay-wh0re-slut]

HEYYY

Can you write rhea x fem!reader where they are at the movies and they decide to sit all they way in the back away from everyone because reader doesn’t like being near anyone and rhea gets the idea to fool around while they watch the movie (smut please)

heyyyyyyy thank you for your request hehehe i’ve always wanted to do this

this is so cheeky oooooo let’s see how this goes

Two Tickets

rhea x fem!reader

content: sexy fun times with your hot buff wrestler gf in a movie theater. def some touching and teasing, def some kissing

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk through door held open for you. You insisted on bringing a blanket because you always go too cold in the theaters, she loved cuddling up to you anyway.

The buff woman chuckles behind you, letting the door close behind the two of you. She quickly walks in front of you to the ticket counter.

Rhea saw online that they were doing a special showing of Friday the 13th. If you wore merch, you’d get fifty percent off the tickets, so of course you had to go. Half of her closet was horror movie merch.

“Two tickets for Friday the 13th, please,” her accent echoed a bit.

The worker looked intimidated by her, which was funny to you and almost immediately rang you up for the tickets. “Uh..anything else?”

She turned towards you, “popcorn?” she shrugged her large shoulders.

“Sure,” you chirped.

“Medium popcorn plea-”

“And a large lemonade!” you added on.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “and a large lemonade please.”

“Y-you got it,” he pushed buttons on the screen. As the card reader loaded, he scooped the popcorn and got the lemonade, placing both on the counter in front of your girlfriend. The tickets printed after she removed her card and he handed them to her.

“Thank you,” she handed the drink to you, then took the popcorn and tickets.

“Enjoy your movie,” he said quietly as you walked away.

“We will,” she winked towards him.

His knees almost buckled right then. It was fun having her around you thought, you almost got everything you wanted.

Walking into the theater, there was more people than you thought there would be. You froze for a second before Rhea looked at you with a soft smile, letting you know that everything will be okay. You followed her to the very back, right under the projector. Both of you sat down and situated yourselves under the blanket. This theater had the seats that could move so that you were basically laying down.

The previews played as more people trickled in. To your surprise, no one else sat in the back row. Was it Rhea's aura or did they want to be scared? Either way, you didn't mind.

The movie finally started. The wrestler hit your leg playfully out of excitement. She told you earlier that she has always wanted to see the movie on the big screen, "I was born too late," she would say.

As the movie went on, you finally realized that her hand was resting on your thigh, luckily under the blanket. Which wasn't any different than normal but what was different was that she was slowly moving it...up your leg.

"Baby," you whispered.

"What?" she whispered back teasingly.

"We're in pub-"

"The movie is loud and we're the only ones back here," her accent tingled in your ear as it sent chills down your spine.

She leaned over to start kissing on your neck, "c'mon baby," her whispering got more sensual as she talked.

"I thought you wanted to watch it on the big screen."

"Well, yes..." her hand was insanely close to your center now, "but you are much more intriguing." Her other hand reached to your chin and gently pulled you towards her. She glanced into your eyes then flicked her gaze down to your lips then back to your eyes, "be a good girl for me, yeah?"

You bit your lip trying to silence the whimper that was pushing its way out. Nodding your head in desperation, you scoot yourself closer to her wishing that the arm of the chair could fold up, but unfortunately it couldn't.

The movie played as her teasing went on. The more suspense in the movie, the more pressure she put on your center, and the more you struggled to keep yourself together. Every so often she would kiss your neck holding your face away from her for better access. Her tattooed hand massaged its way to your core as the people in front of you cowered in fear. The jump scare got closer and closer as her hand added more and more pressure.

"SHIT!" you screamed in arousal as the rest of the crowd screamed in fear at the jump.

She chuckled in your ear as the crowd died down and removed her hand, but only slightly.

Finally the movie ended, "get your ass in the car," she growled as she ripped the blanket away from the two of you. You quickly grabbed the half full drink, barely eaten popcorn and basically ran out to her big truck. She followed close behind you lazily folding the blanket.

Squirming all the way home, you jumped out of the car, dropped the popcorn and the drink on the counter and before you could make it to the bedroom-

"Uh uh, princess," as she caught you from behind, engulfing you in her big arms. She carried you back to the couch and threw you down.

You giggled as you plopped down.

"You did so well, my love," she kneeled in front of you landing her hands on the outside of your thighs.

You relaxed the muscles you didn't know you were holding tense. Letting out a long breath as you did, you let your head fall back, resting on the back of the couch. Your hands tangled themselves in her raven dark hair as she kissed along your thighs. Her hands toyed with your waistband, tugging on them hoping you get the hint.

Of course you did, but you loved the feeling of her teasing you, "not yet," you breathed.

"Correct answer," she grinned. She continued to kiss up your thighs and grazing her hands all over you. They trailed up to your sides, to your stomach, to your tits then finally back down to your legs. She slowly pushed them open causing her to kiss the inside of your thighs.

A small moan fell out of you as you readjusted yourself to move closer to the edge of the couch. You heard a faint giggle come from below you, sending a shock through you straight to your core.

Instead of tugging this time, Rhea purposely pulled harder on your waistband, silently telling you to lift your hips. So you did, allowing her to pull your pants off and thrown to the side as you helped.

"Look at you," she sat back holding your legs open staring at the arousal that soaked your underwear, "all for me?" she cooed.

"Mhmm," you whined, "please baby..."

"So desperate," she mocked. Her devilish smile dove back down to kiss on your now bare skin. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she trailed the kisses up to your core. Planting her soft lips right above where you need them most.

You shifted your hips closer to her but she backed away in perfect timing, "uh uh, you know the rules babygirl."

You sigh loudly, "hmph," as you drop your hands from her shoulders.

"Aw, a lil frustrated are we?"

"No," you lie.

"Right, so me doing this," she carefully grazed her thumb over your clit, "doesn't do anything?"

Your hips jerked as you grunted in frustration, "n-no."

"Right...and this?" she did the same motion but added slightly more pressure.

"Fuck," you said under your breath. You took a short but deep breath, "no," you growled.

"Uh huh," the devilish grin grew back. Her icy blue eyes flicked over your body, watching you writhe in front of her. It didn't take her long to figure out what to do next. She stood, then bent at her waist, placing a hand under your chin, lifting your head up to match her gaze. "Stand up," she whispered sternly.

You followed orders and stood as your legs shook, but only slightly. Her hand was on your chin the whole way up. She grabbed you more aggressively, then pulled you in for a long deep kiss before pushing you to the side. She took your seat, manspreading in front of you. You watched in awe as if she's never done this before. She draped her arms on the back cushions. Once more, her eyes danced over your body before she patted her thigh to tell you to sit down.

You followed her command and straddled her waist, resting your arms on her large shoulders.

"Hmm," she hummed in content, "I love making you like this."

"Like what?"

"Sooo... desperate," she trails a finger down your neck, to your chest, "sooo needy," the finger continues to the elastic of your underwear, playing with it.

"I can't help it," you moan at her touch.

"I know," she whispered in her husky voice. She grabbed your face with her free hand and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, quickly followed by her other hand diving underneath the cotton and straight to where you needed her most.

You were moaning loudly at her touch, as she held your head in place, not letting you go. Her skilled hand was forming small circles on your clit. Your hands flew to her hair gripping at anything you can.

She finally lets go of her death grip, "that's it, baby," as she pushed some stray hairs out of your face before cupping your jaw.

"Holy fuck," you whined. Her hand was going full force now, giving everything you wanted. The pressure and pace was perfect. You didn't realize you were grinding on her hand until she placed her other hand on your ass helping you through it. You moaned and whined into her neck, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Look at me," she said quietly, but you didn't listen. She immediately stopped her working hand.

"No please don-"

"Then look at me," she said harsher.

So you did.

"Good girl," her eyes were dark and hungry. "Now, I can tell you're close," she slowly starts again, causing you to ache for a release, "I need you to look at me when you come...undone," her pace quickens a bit, "can you do that for me, love?"

"Mhm, yes, yes I can, y-yes," you pleaded hoping she would stop teasing.

"Good," finally, she quickens her pace and adds more pressure perfectly as her other hand supports your back.

You almost immediately drop your chin to your chest before picking it back up again. One of your hands grip onto to her neck and the other is braced on the back of the couch. Your breath becomes more shallow, your hips are moving back and forth quicker than you thought possible. Moans and whines continue spilling out of you. You rest your forehead on hers.

"Oh shit, Rhea," you were basically whimpering now.

"C'mon baby," her voice was deep but breathy.

The knot that had been forming in your stomach since before you left the theater finally snapped, "FUCK," you cried out, throwing your head back. Loud moans filled the room as you rode out your high on her hand, slowly calming down as she followed suit in slowing down her pace.

As you caught your breath, you laid your head on her shoulder. She took back her hand and wrapped her arms around you letting you rest.

You finally lifted your head, "you're so fucking hot when you're mean to me by the way."

"Yeah? Should I call you a slut next time then?" she giggled, half joking.

"God, yes," you groaned.

"Well, then," she easily picked you up and began carrying you, "let's see what happens when I do," as she took you to the bedroom.

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part I): Per Manum, and Waking Up to Miracles

Waking Up to Fatherhood - The Past

Before Mulder's abduction, there were two brief times that Scully almost became a mother.

Both were linked to her stolen ova; but one little girl was born weak and sickly, her only purpose to be a lab rat for her government and to be loved in-between these tests by her adoptive parents. Mulder could not be a father to this hybrid, having failed to be a brother to a clone once already. And, sadly, in spite of all of Scully's training and all of Mulder's attempts, little Emily Sims could not be put back together again.

Later-- we will never know how much later-- he finally told Scully about her other remaining ova, the ones that didn't work. But she wanted to try, anyway.

So, before Mulder's abduction, there was a short period of time where he almost became a father.

It was a simple ask from her partner; and one that Mulder took time to contemplate-- whether by his request or hers or mutual understanding we will never know. But ultimately, he'd made his decision back in Home, Pennsylvania-- "I never saw you as a mother before" (though he'd later covered that intimacy in the motel with a biting "Night, Mom.") The donation was a mere formality.

It's established in a Per Manum script here and here (thanks @dunhamhairograpy and @x-files-scripts) that Scully was rushing into the process faster than Mulder, not having taken the time to think far enough down the road. But her partner-- whose mind was more often engaged elsewhere in the hunt for the Truth-- had. He'd thought about work, and he'd thought about them. But mostly he'd thought about the answer being "yes."

Scully cracked, crumbling in desperate joy and clinging to Mulder in sheer happiness. Her eyebrow popped up as self-preservation and distance engaged, doubts swirling at all the calculations, the changes, the unsaid conversations; but Mulder continued to hold her, luxuriating in the rich satisfaction of granting his partner her greatest wish.

When he was assured that Scully wouldn't step back just yet, Mulder lost his focus in daydreams, a secret contentment spilling out of his beautiful soul. Thrilling hopes and dreams of his own little Mulder-Scully poured from his eyes; and a softer, more paternal smile settled onto his mouth. This is the face of a man who accepted, fully, the anticipation and responsibility of fatherhood-- it's a heartbreakingly tender moment that he treasured to himself, as he had (until Amor Fati) never shared his deepest joys and sharpest pains completely with Scully.

(Side note: This is why I set the IVF arc before S7: Mulder still acted on his trademark guarded manner here, an aspect of himself that is set aside after Amor Fati--another post for another time. That revelation changed his outlook, his life, literally his mind. Here he was still reclusive, reluctant, shy-- all things that were swept away in the aftermath of listening to the world and realizing he only wanted to hear Scully.)

Scully still clung, hoping against hope she was reading this-- him-- right; and finally, finally she stepped back, doing her best to project an air of nonchalance. Anything to keep this-- this IVF this-- as low-key as she could, perhaps so as not to spook Mulder or perhaps not to spook herself; but her delight could not be wholly contained.

Her partner saw right through her, giving a little twist of his lips even as his eyes fixated on her flashing emotions.

To relieve Scully's sudden jitteriness, he quipped "At that part I'm a pro" and dipped, leaving her with the solitude she craved to pull her scrambled pieces back together.

However, despite his overthinking and her underthinking, both are a tad overwhelmed-- Scully noticeably so, though Mulder still shrugged off the moment and released a tense sigh before turning his enthusiastic smile back at his partner. There was no fear or reluctance in his posture, and only heightened reservation in hers; so it's safe to assume Mr. and Mrs. Spooky would have relaxed naturally into their impending parenthood long before Spooky Jr. arrived. Both wanted this, yes; and there would still have been some awkward bumps ahead, but it would have led them closer together. They were partners, after all.

Alas, that was not to be.

In the last IVF flashback, Scully walked back into her apartment, quiet and glum. When Mulder popped up on her couch-- having fallen asleep (and still trying to take up as little space as possible on her little people couch, even when unconscious)-- she is surprised to see him there.

Mulder explained, still a little slurred, "Scully? I must have dozed off. I was waiting for you to get back." Ever the gentleman, he offered a reasonable explanation for his presence in her space: even if he owned (and owns) a key to the place, Mulder wouldn't use it without a good reason or life-saving crisis (see post here.)

Her eyes were red-rimmed with more tears on the way; and the top of her hair was messed and staticky, likely having rested on her car steering wheel as the first onslaught of tears struck (as she'd cried before in Elegy and The End.)

Realizing she'd been irreparably caught, Scully shrugged into an acceptance of her grief, pulling her mouth tight in a shallow attempt to placate her partner's concerns. Tears still barely held back (not having expected Mulder to be there to catch her in the act), she slowly walked forward, stoically (if uncomfortably) willing to give Mulder his fair and equal share in this failure.

Nothing escaped her partner's wild, wide-eyed stare, realization sinking his tentatively celebratory feelings. For a moment he just observed, eyes falling before sweeping back up to ask ,"Didn't take, did it?"

"I guess it was too much to hope for," Scully replied, pain cracking through at Mulder's overt disappointment. Her "Starbuck" guilt rose up to accuse her: when Scully loses, she's "failed"; and this personal failure went deep. Discouraged-- and not strong enough to fully engage with Mulder's pain, though she knew it was there-- Scully gave up hope.

Mulder was having none of that-- the same facial expression, too-- as he swept Scully up in his arms, not allowing her guilt to add to the burdens on her back. It's a zany comfort all Mulder's own: none of that, Scully, of course it wasn't too much to hope for; sure, we might never get that wish, but that didn't mean it was worthless to hope all the same.

But, again, his deeper disappointment cracked through once Scully could no longer see and blame herself for his pain.

"It was my last chance," Scully keened, straining with everything in her not to lose control, not to completely despair.

The brittle brutality gripped the both of them; and Mulder tightened his hold, rocking them into a calm only two souls united in this grief could experience.

His strength and comfort allowing her to settle back into herself, Scully pulled back just before being hit with a fresh wave of hurt; but Mulder settled that, too, with his special brand of soothing: a forehead kiss.

"Never give up on a miracle," he intoned in accents he'd never used before: solid, unshakeable, unwavering faith tempered by fully matured love.

It was almost too much for Scully; but she dodged last minute to plant a kiss on his cheek instead. (Another reason I believe this took place before Amor Fati: Scully had claimed her right to forehead kisses after his dream confession and revelation. Here she is still too tentative and unsure. Another discussion for another time.)

Mulder consumed her like the ouroboros on her back; and the two closed the loop, clinging to each other-- reclaiming their life and future even with the death of their dreams.

Waking Up to Miracles - The Present

Mulder spent the last three months being split open, pulled apart, and screaming for Scully's help.

Then one night, he stopped waking up.

When awareness does slowly return, his eyes open in a hospital, groggy and sluggish... and he can't remember what happened to bring him here. But that isn't unusual in his line of work; and he knows memory will return with time.

As usual, Scully is stationed by his bed, hesitantly blissful in the face of-- what he considered to be-- another of his mundane recoveries.

It's too tempting to take advantage of her eagerness; and his playfulness gets the better of him. "Who... are you?"

After he's deemed she's had the proper reaction-- shock and a possible heart attack-- he mischievously beams back at her, resuming their usual cheerful hospital camaraderie.

But... her reaction is stronger than usual: a sudden whoosh of relief, swept-aside bedside manner leaving room for open, intimate glee. Her haunted eyes almost speak for her-- "Do you have any idea what you've been through?"-- make him more serious, contemplative.

"I know what I see in your face." Feeling cared for, comforted, to the pit of his soul as his partner begins to stroke his hair, he mouths "I love you", lighting her face up with trembling gratitude.

And him knowing her, still, and loving her, still, melts Scully. He watches as she sinks down in weighted grief and heady relief by his side, soaking her tears in his hospital gown. Although he tries to move closer to comfort or cradle her, his body, he finds, is unyielding. His sober mood turns somber, trying to catch at the greater mystery snagged under so much heartache. Despite the sleep of recovery tugging at him, there is no way he can rest without making her feel better.

"Anybody miss me?"

His partner's choked laugh and her sturdier grip assure and relax him more than any reply; and he drifts off, content.

Mulder misses, however, the severity of his injuries, the signs of his partner's advanced pregnancy, and the shadow of her new partner lengthening the doorway.

But those wait, lurking, with his nightmares.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[crushedgraham]

Hey there! Can you do a D.va x fem!reader smut where Dva rides her soft masc gf in her gamer chair? Maybe a little specific but anyways lol

Paused

D.va x Soft Masc gf

Being specific always helps! I hope you enjoy :D

It was late and Hana’s screams could be heard bouncing off of the walls of your shared apartment. You groan, tossing your phone aside onto the cushion next to you. Hana had been streaming for well over 8 hours now even though she had promised to keep it short. You had been looking forward to spending time with her since she’s been so busy with missions and working on her mech. Now, 8 hours later, you feel pretty disheartened. She had missed the plans and meals you had prepped for her free day.

You lean your head back, shutting your eyes with a sigh. You love Hana but dating a celebrity can be a pain in the ass sometimes. You wait another 10 minutes but her shouts don’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

Defeated, you throw a blanket loosely over your waist and you clutch a pillow to your chest wishing it was Hana. But right as you're about to fall asleep, you hear soft thumps of footsteps and a quiet:

“Oh Jagi…”

You sleepily open your eyes just enough so you can see Hana standing over you in one of your shirts (that looks a lot more like a dress on her).

“Mm, you finally done?”

Your voice is low and scratchy from exhaustion which makes you miss the small blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m sorry baby I got caught up trying to beat this new game”

“It’s fine, jus’ wanna hold you”

Her eyes soften and she whispers a soft “Of course”, before grabbing your hand and leading you to your shared bedroom. Your eyes are set on the haven of your comfortable bed but Hana’s hand leads you to her desk, the paused screen from her game still glowing on the large monitors. At this point, exhaustion has settled deep into your bones and you’re too tired to protest when she pushes you to sit in her gaming chair. Though you’re content to just sleep in that chair when Hana straddles your lap, arms wrapping around the back of your neck to place little kisses across your face.

“‘M sorry, I know you had a lot planned today…I promise to make it up to you”

Her breath brushes against your ear and you shiver a little. Your hands run down her waist to rest on her hips, holding her close.

“We can just do it tomorrow, it’s no big de-”

She cuts you off with a gentle press of her lips against yours (you can taste the remnants of doritos and mountain dew on her lips, romantic right?). One of her hands slides up the back of your neck to tug lighty at the roots of your hair and she tugs at your bottom lip with her teeth at the same time. You groan against her lips, all the fatigue melting away from her little touches. Ignited with lust, you surge upwards to deepen the kiss - your tongue glides against her lip before slipping into her mouth to run along her own.

Hana’s hectic schedule has kept the two of you away from each other sexually for an ungodly amount of time. The built up sexual frustration leads to a greater neediness in both of you. Her hips grind down against yours and she whimpers against your lips when she feels the familiar bulge in your sweats.

Your hands reach underneath the large shirt to come in contact with thin panties. You pull away from Hana’s swollen lips to chuckle,

“No shorts even when you’re streaming?”

“Shut up and fuck me”

You giggle some more as she kisses you again while fumbling with the waistband of your sweats, trying to push them down as fast as possible. You let her struggle for a bit before raising your hips to help her out. She ruts her soaked panties against the underside of your strap, desperate for any kind of friction she can get.

“H-hahh…Need you Jagi please..!”

“Such a needy bunny, I wonder if you could cum like this?”

You grin devilishly when she lets out an annoyed whine into the crook of your neck.

“No! …Mngh…N-need you inside!”

As much as you want to make her beg for it, you’re just as desperate to be inside of her. You quickly slide her panties to the side and you slide in easily. The moan she lets out is angelic, she nuzzles into your neck with tightly shut eyes. Hana starts rolling her hips desperately: front to back then down and up and repeat. You let her have her fun, content to just listen to her moans and watch her fuck herself on your cock.

“Fuck! I need m-more, please Jagi please!”

Your hips snap up at the sound of her pleas which makes her bite roughly into your shoulder to conceal her loud moan. You set a rough pace, picking her up and down by the hips to meet your thrusts like a little doll. Her moans and the squelching of her wet pussy mix together louder than her screams from her stream, thank god for her sound-proofed set up.

And when you shift so that the tip of the strap brushes against her g-spot? Her pussy’s gushing, slick coating the insides of her thighs and making a mess of your sweats. Hana grips onto your shoulder and bicep like her life depends on it, tears mixed with mascara running down her flushed cheeks - making her look so pretty and fucked out.

“S-so..Ah! hah..Close!”

Your hand leaves one side of her hip to reach between your bodies to rub over her swollen clit. She chokes out a sobbed moan, and her thighs shake from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Cum for me bunny, be my good girl and cum for me.”

Fuck. That’s the final push she needed, she cums on command - her sensitive cunt twitching and cumming on your thick strap. She mewls quietly from the aftershocks and she slumps against your body tiredly.

“You okay?”

You murmur while kissing her hairline, your hands already massaging her thighs knowing they were going to be sore in the morning. Hana nods and makes a small noise of approval. You stand up with her in your arms and you set her down on the bed.

“I’ll be right back okay? Just gotta get some things for you”

She grunts in disagreement while holding you close, she wraps her legs around your waist to trap you in her embrace.

“Don’t leave me…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Hana”

[kradogsrats]

So now I can finally return to my true love, the AU rewrite of the Titan Heart arc. I've been wanting to fill in the gaps and post this bit for a while, because it's kind of the culmination of... a lot. Mostly a lot of trying to understand Sarai.

This is right after Harrow and Sarai's duel in "Breaking the Seal," which Lissa witnesses from one of the castle windows.

—

Ezran had slipped into a doze, his soft baby snores rising and falling with his small chest. Lissa lifted him off the blanket and stood, moving to sit beside Sarai on the couch. "Can I ask what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't seem happy when we saw you down there with King Harrow."

Sarai looked at her quizzically. "'We'?"

"Well, I don't know how much of it Ezran caught," Lissa clarified, "but I'm sure he was rooting for you."

"He'd better, if he knows what's good for him," Sarai chuckled, then sighed. "It's... a difference of opinion. I don't like setting out with the intent to take a life. I don't think I ever will. Not even a life others would deem monstrous. Not even to save ourselves."

Lissa looked down at Ezran, now asleep in her arms. She imagined him shriveled and gaunt, his healthy chubbiness melted away. The lively bloom in his cheeks gone dull and gray. His contented burbling changed to weak, thin cries.

"What else can we do?" she said quietly.

"I don't know. I wish I did."

She handed Ezran over, careful not to wake him. Sarai's face softened as he shifted sleepily. Lissa could tell her thoughts were moving along the same path as her own had—imagining the pain of watching helplessly as a child wasted away in a slow death. A death that they could have been spared.

"I suppose I'm just wishing things were different," Sarai said, after a moment. "Either that we didn't have to make decisions like this, or for Harrow to at least be less cavalier about it. He's so intent on the virtues of this solution that he's not considering all its ramifications.

"We have so many plans, Lissa—plans to make things better in real, lasting ways, for everyone. Plans that would shore up the foundations of the entire Pentarchy, and build a future on top of something solid. Now I worry that he'll abandon those plans the minute some magical quick fix is able to plaster over the cracks."

"King Harrow's not like that. He wants to do what's best—he won't just settle for whatever is easiest." Lissa tried a smile, knowing it was probably half-hearted and lopsided. "And if he does, you can always flatten him in the sparring ring."

"That's true." Sarai returned the smile, but it faded quickly. Her gaze slid away from Lissa's face. "It's unfair of me, but I suspect some of how he's behaving now is because of Viren."

Lissa paused, seized by the sudden, desperate wish for her husband to be there, alive and with them. He'd be in the thick of things, for sure—researching spells with Kpp'Ar, or bickering over siege weaponry with Sarai, or simply taking some of the weight from King Harrow's shoulders in the way only his presence could. His loss had left them all weaker.

"He was as much an idealist as King Harrow, in his way," she said quietly. "He truly believed magic, given the chance, would be the way to a better world. They were close for a long time—it wouldn't be surprising for that to influence the way his majesty thinks, sometimes."

She hesitated, wondering if she should reveal more, then chose to press on. "Did you know that he grew up with nothing? When he went to Kpp'Ar, he only had the clothes on his back."

"I didn't. He never talked about his childhood—not in front of me, at least."

"No, of course not. To hear him tell it, you'd think he sprang full-grown from King Harrow's footprints." Lissa shook her head ruefully. "Stubborn man. He didn't even talk to me about it until I was pregnant with Soren.

"His mother was all he had, and she worked herself into an early grave providing for the two of them—she died only a few years after he left home. She was able to keep them both fed, but only just."

Sarai saw what she was getting at. "And in a famine, they would have gone hungry."

They both knew the bulk of widespread deprivation was always borne by the poor, the orphaned, those enduring illness or disability, the outcasts—all the people who already scraped by with so little. Scarcity would make prices rise, and the wealthy would continue to pay them. Those who could not would go without.

"All those plans you have are part of what makes the two of you truly great rulers," Lissa said gently. "You have a noble vision, and more importantly, you have the patience and will to make it a reality—but you're not gods. No throne has the power to gather up all of a kingdom's suffering and distribute it fairly."

"I know you're right," Sarai said, sighing, "but I wish you weren't."

They both fell silent. Sarai looked down at Ezran, who gurgled softly in his sleep. Lissa leaned slightly against her, shoulder to shoulder, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. After a moment, Sarai leaned against her in return, sighing again.

"I never went into a battle wanting to kill," she said, still looking down at Ezran. "Even knowing I was leading soldiers to their deaths—soldiers I knew had parents, siblings, even spouses and children—I always went in wanting as many of us as possible to go home safely, on both sides.

"There's no amount of killing that can save everyone." She looked to Lissa, her face serious. "But I'm going to make sure Harrow comes home. If he won't come home until he has this creature's heart, then I'll make sure he gets it."

"And keep him alive, if he decides to be a noble, brave idiot?"

"His usual self, you mean?" Sarai cracked a smile. "Yes. It might as well have been in our wedding vows."

Not for the first time, Lissa wondered if she would have stopped Viren, had she known what he planned. Would she have let him trade his life for Soren's, if he hadn't robbed her of the choice? Was it a choice she would ever have forgiven him for giving her?

“Then I’m going, too,” she declared.

Sarai drew back to look at her in surprise. "You?"

“I’m Del Barian, remember—I can ride, and I can shoot. I've brought down big game. I may not be a soldier, but I'm hardly helpless.”

"I'd never doubt it," Sarai countered, "but you're also all your children have. You shouldn't risk—"

"And who will Callum and Ezran have, if you and King Harrow don't come back?" Lissa demanded, cutting her off. “This was all my idea. It’s not right for you two to take all the risks while I stay behind.” She fell silent for a moment, then sighed unhappily. "Besides, you'll have your hands full, with him. Someone will have to look after Kpp’Ar."

[twosomeofcuteness]

Welcome to Breaking Broken Hearts (a.k.a. The JannaVerse) This is the biggest fic project I've ever undertaken, but I'm here and thrilled to be doing it. The JannaVerse will have a few distinct parts, and I'll update this as we move along.

1. Wishing Wells

Wishing Wells takes us through Janna's childhood, highlighting events that have made her into the hot mess bisexual she is by part two.

The Day I'll Never Remember (And those that followed) (Chapters: 2/2) It was the best day of Janna’s life; it must have been. So why didn’t she remember any of it? tw: implied suicide

Wishing Well (Chapters: 1/1) After Janna's father dies suddenly, she pays a visit to their spot; an old wishing well on the outskirts of her family's property. Desperately missing her father, she tosses in coin, but son learns that perhaps not all wishes are meant to be granted, and those we miss don't always come back as they should. tw: heavily implied suicide, gore

Forgetting Your Love (Chapters: 3/3) In exchange for her best friend's life, Janna makes a deal with a plagiarus demon. A deal that might just affect the rest of her life. (Also fun fact this takes place 9 years before Sunnydale and Jenny's just a lil baby heading off to college at 17)

From the Diary of Janna Călinescu (Chapters: 1/1) A handful of entries from the childhood diary of Janna Călinescu, as translated by her mother, Eliadora Călinescu tw: implied suicide

2. The Ups and Downs of Loving You

This is the main work of the JannaVerse! Chapters will be uploaded every Thursday, starting on October 26th, 2023. Season One chapters will take us all the way through to February 1st, 2024.

The Ups and Downs of Loving You - Season 1 Chapters: 4/15

Tierney Tishler is Definitely, Totally, Not Gay (Chapters 1/1)

In the mood for something even angstier? The SourVerse is a collection of short fics based on Olivia Rodrigo songs, and it is, however unfortunately, canon-compliant.  In the order of the track lists, but not their content. (ie. Passion/Becoming Part 1 in Traitor, The Dark Age in Driver's License)

11/11 fics posted

Brutal - (Passion, Becoming Part One) Maybe Sunnydale would be better off without her.

Traitor - (Passion) They were all traitors, really.

Driver's License - (The Dark Age) How could I ever love someone else?

1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back - (Lie to Me {sorta}, Passion) Maybe she should tell him, there was a chance he'd understand.

Deja Vu - (No specific episodes) The Powers That Be had given her another chance. Jenny was alive, and she was determined to get it right.

Good 4 You - (No specific episodes) Jenny thought he'd find peace after her death...

Enough For You - (Passion) Janna had tried to impress them for years, and nothing had worked. But if this worked? Maybe her family would finally trust her with more than babysitting an ensouled vampire.

Happier - (When She Was Bad, The Dark Age, Passion) At least when she was gone, Rupert would have a chance to move on.

Jealousy, Jealousy - (No specific episodes) Did someone say two people trapped by destiny and one of them never stops blaming themselves for the others death even though the other one was an adult who made her own choices and wouldn't have wanted Buffy to blame herself? No? Well...

Favourite Crime - (The Dark Age, Ted, Passion) 'Cause I was going down, but I was doing it with you

Hope ur ok - (No specific episodes) Spoiler alert; they're not okay

[waffletheorist]

So, I wrote a sort of prequel/backstory thing for Hero of Simulation, just adding to his character, how he came to be the way he is, different stages of his life and some description. Might rewrite first meeting later as well because I just got so many more ideas for him that I want to add, and because I'm on the creative high right now, so I may as well write as much as possible and improve it.

TW, implied suicide.

Content below the cut.

"The Hero? He's barely a month old!" The woman cried.

"I know it might come as a shock, but that is his destiny. That mark right there on his left hand proves it." The old man replied calmly.

"I don't care what some goddess-forsaken triangle birthmark says, I will not be sending my infant son out on a quest!" The heartbroken mother screamed, cradling her son, who had not made even the slightest sound during this whole ordeal.

"I apologise, but we have no choice in the matter. It is what he was born to do." The wizened sage said gently, not seeming sorry at all.

"No. I refuse to accept this. You sages can go find a new hero. I refuse to let you turn this innocent boy into a weapon for the world. Get a capable adult, not my child."

"But miss-"

"No. I will not accept any argument on this. My son will live his life, far away from all this hero business, you hear me?"

"But only he can-"

"No."

The women stormed out of the castle, infant son in her arms, the mark of the Triforce glowing weakly on his hand.

Days passed, and all the soldiers and knights of the kingdom were sent out to find the fleeing family. There were posters in every town, and the two had a bounty on their heads. There was no place for the desperate duo to hide, even short rests at inns were risky when anyone could be looking to collect their bounty. But they always persisted on their path, the woman determined to keep her child from harm. The mother told the young boy stories every night, of how the Triforce could grant any wish. He had always loved his stories, the same as her.

"Maybe that could keep you safe. That accursed triangle on your hand that binds you to your fate, saving you from it. A bit poetic, don't you think?"

The child just stared, the woman letting out a tinkling laugh.

But, the women had an idea now, and she wasn't going to give up on it. While the Triforce of Courage rested in her son, the other two pieces remained in the Sacred Realm, the door to which was in the Temple of Time. But no regular person could open the Sacred Realm, as only the one who the Master Sword deemed worthy would be able to raise it and open the gate. While the woman herself wasn't worthy, perhaps her son would be, despite his age and size. That was what those insane sages said, wasn't it?

So, the mother picked up her child, a look of guilt, grief and sadness briefly crossing her face for what she was planning to do. She donned the armour she had stolen off of the poor Hyrulean soldier who had been guarding the path to Death Mountain in order to disguise herself, and carefully placed her baby into her bag. She didn't have to worry about him crying, he had not made even a sound since the moment of his birth. Her small campsite in the Kakariko Village Well was no place to raise a child, and she knew that. So, when the sunlight finally stopped reflecting off the water, she climbed out into the night. It was a long walk to Castle Town across Hyrule Field, especially when you add factors such as her heavy armour, needing to check on her son, and her decreased physical ability due to the sleepless nights spent watching over the entrance to the well, making sure nobody would discover them. The gate to the town was closed at night, but she knew that with all of these combined, it would take her until morning to arrive anyway. So, she walked, straining and struggling the whole way, until morning arrived and she was at the gates. She took a brief rest to catch her breath, she might be caught if people saw her struggling when she was meant to be disguised as a soldier. Helm concealing her face, she finally entered Castle Town.

"Ey, soldier! You're meant to be stationed outside Death Mountain! And what's in that bag of yours?"

The woman almost jumped out of her skin, her heart skipping a beat for a moment when she heard this. She thought she was going to be stopped. Deepening her voice as much as she could, which wasn't much due to naturally being high pitched, she replied.

"Just delivering a message, sir, I've got someone covering my shift until I return."

"Alright then. But I better not catch you slacking off, you understand?"

"Understood, sir."

The woman almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it so as not to seem suspicious. It was early in the morning, and not many people were up and about this time of day, which made things easier for her. She advanced towards the Temple of Time, not once letting herself break character, and finally went inside, arriving at the Master Sword pedestal. She gently removed her infant from her bag, and placed his hands on the Master Sword. They were small. Too small for this large duty imposed upon him. He could barely even wrap his hands around the hilt, let alone raise the sword and kill with it. But, the child's touch was enough, and the blade allowed them both to lift it together. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I knew there was something off about you. You're that woman the Royal Family is-"

The man was cut off, as the Sacred Realm opened, sending a beam of pure golden light upwards to tell the whole world. In front of them was an expanse of gold, bathed in the light of an eternal sunset. A beautiful realm. If this was the last thing she ever saw, she could die happily. She climbed the marble stairs in front of her, with her son, and almost as if he sensed what she was about to do, he cried for the first time, the Triforce glowing prominently on his small hand, begging to be reunited with its two other powerful and wise counterparts. Holding her son in one arm and the Master Sword in the other, she ascended to the top, and the Triforce was completed once again.

"Triforce, I wish upon you. Please, transport my son somewhere safe, far away from here, where he can grow up like a normal child. Please, let him live."

The Triforce glowed brightly, and the Sacred Realm changed around her as her son wailed and screamed. He was raised into the air, and in a flash of light, he disappeared, her wish granted. The woman was alone with the Master Sword and her thoughts. With one last laugh, she raised the sword high and pointed it towards herself, so that they would never be able to find out what she wished for.

Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, an infant was found abandoned in a field, seemingly having just appeared out of thin air. Nobody knew where he had come from, and he was eventually adopted by two expecting parents who didn't mind having another child with them.

Hylia was watching all of this from above, and she was not pleased with the woman's wish. It irritated her that she could not go against the will of the Triforce, even if it was for such a noble reason as needing the child back to save the Kingdom. However, the woman had only wished that he be allowed to grow up, he could still become the hero eventually if Hylia bent the rules, and she knew that. For now though, she couldn't touch him and would have to hide her time. But how to prepare him for his eventual duty when this world has not a monster to speak of, and the art of fighting is rarely taught? For three days and three nights, Hylia watched over this strange world with its advanced technology, until she discovered videogames. She was intrigued by these small virtual worlds, and saw their potential in teaching the hero. Nintendo games in particular caught her eye, they were the most popular in this world, and for good reason too. So, Hylia travelled back to the past of that world to bring the story of Hyrule to Nintendo. The people of this land used strange number codes to keep track of the date, and according to Hylia's knowledge, it was 1984. With her influence, the Legend of Zelda series began development, named after her mortal reincarnation.

Link was now twelve years old, and his younger brother was eleven. His brother hadn't cared much for the Legend of Zelda, but after being introduced to it by his father, Link had always felt a strange connection to the world of Hyrule, beyond just sharing a name with the protagonist. Today was another boring day of classes for him. His hands absentmindedly drifted to his ears. They had always felt... wrong, somehow. There was nothing abnormal about them though. Every time he checked, there was nothing strange about them. But, that feeling of wrongness never went away. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, they would seem pointed, out of the corner of his eye, even though he knew that was impossible, and it was far more likely that he just had a few screws loose.

"Link, answer the question."

The teacher said impatiently. He hadn't been paying attention again. He quickly looked at the girl beside him to see what question they were on.

"The answer is 17."

"Correct. But pay better attention next time. You're smart, but that doesn't mean you can get away with being lazy."

'Yes it does.' Link thought, but he held his tongue, as always. He was a well-behaved student to a bit of a worrying degree, his mother actually payed him to get in trouble, although it backfired on her when he demanded money for not doing his chores. He just nodded along like he was listening. "Smart.", the teacher had said. It annoyed him. Every Friday, a student was selected and every other student had to write one good thing about them for mental health or something. For him, it was always just "smart", "intelligent", "good at math", "good at spelling", with the occasional "nice", "kind" or "pretty" from the students that just wrote the same thing for everyone. He had liked it at first, but it was getting repetitive, and at this point, it felt like a bit of an insult. What about everything else? He didn't like being known for his smarts, he had other defining qualities he wished people would talk about. Is his academic skill all he has? Despite not being blood related, his brother was the same, as a result of his competitiveness driving him to try and beat Link, although it never worked.

The bell rang, and Link got out of his seat and packed his bags in a hurry so he could leave quickly. He was often made a target by some of the more annoying students, since he never fought back out of fear of getting in trouble for defending himself, and because his long hair, petite size and more reserved personality gave them lots to pick on. Luckily, he made it out in time, and walked home. His days continued on in a similar manner to this one for many years, with only a few notable events, such as starting horse-riding lessons and briefly trying out different martial arts.

When he finally turned eighteen, he decided to get a tattoo of the Triforce on his left hand. He had been planning to do this for quite a while, with the only thing stopping him being the law and the common sense required not to break it and end up getting an infection or a low quality tattoo. While his hair wasn't as long as it had been when he was twelve years old and refused to cut his hair, it was still reasonably long now, a little below shoulder length at the back. He spent even more time indoors than he did before, researching and working harder than ever, while still leaving enough time for videogames and writing by sacrificing sleep.

He was alright with the way he was living, but something still felt off. There was something he was supposed to be doing, he just couldn't figure out what. He got a part-time job, the feeling didn't go away, he studied harder, the feeling didn't go away, he applied for university, the feeling didn't go away. No matter what, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important. It had always been present, but now it was worsening. Every time he looked at his left hand, at the tattoo of the Triforce, it felt like it was trying to remind him of some long forgotten duty. Days were lost trying to figure out what was wrong, and he decided to go back to playing the Legend of Zelda games, his childhood favourites, and somehow, they seemed to dull the pain and stress even when nothing else did. He collected all the Golden Skulltulas, fused hundreds of Kinstones, found every Korok, and then did it again in speedrun form. Sometimes, he wrote theories as well, or streamed himself playing the games. He had a small following, but it was steadily growing larger as he became more of a known name in the community. Sharing a name with Link helped with that as well, it made him stand out.

After a year of this life, balancing his part-time jobs with his social media and online career, along with school, he lost more and more sleep and started getting burnt-out from all this work. But, on one late rainy night that he finally found out what he was missing.

[rurpleplayssims]

After they’d eaten dinner, Jasper and Sylvie went into his makeshift alchemy lab, moved from the garage. 

“Jasper, you need to rest eventually. You have a newborn in the house, with more on the way. You cannot slog in here all day, everyday anymore” Sylvie told him gently as she watched him stir his caldron’s contents.

“I cannot afford to lose focus now!” Jasper almost snapped back at his aunt. “Noah’s cure appears to be working on Thomas and hopefully, time will tell us that he did fix a cure. That only gives us a limited window to cure Noah!”

She rolled her eyes “Why is there a countdown from Thomas being cured to curing Noah?”

“He’ll want to be cured all the sooner, so he can start his life with Henry.”

“He’s already living with Henry, who I’m happy to see is very well suited to Noah’s needs, as Noah is for him. It’s endearing and heart-warming to see them.”

“He’ll want to research the same-sex pregnancies again.”

“Yes...and?” Sylvie prompted. 

“I need to fix my fuckup Sylvie” Jasper said desperately. “What if he finds out that I inadvertently cursed him?!”

“We’ve had this discussion before Jasper” she said gently. “I did advise you to tell him sooner rather than later.”

“I know, I’ve had a lot happen since then so I forgot to!”

She met his gaze “You didn’t want to tell him. You’re scared.”

“Wouldn’t you be, if you were in my shoes?!”

“Of course, I understand your position” Sylvie said. “I never said it was easy or without risk.”

“Will you help me cure him?” Jasper asked, desperate.

She rolled her eyes again “What have I been doing all this time? You really think I’ve not been planning and researching all this time?”

“Of course not” he said sheepishly. 

“We will cure Noah” Sylvie said, her tone and expression gentle again. “But I have a cunning plan, and it involves great risk...and your father.”

Jasper blinked in shock “Father? What’s he got to do with this?!”

“I need him to...aquire some items from your mother’s laboratory.”

Jasper gulped “He’s a braver man than me if he’s prepared to do that. Have you spoken with him?”

She gave him a look. “Of course, he remains a dear friend.”

“But wh-what if Mother reads his-”

“Your father has been hiding certain things from your mother for nearly two decades” Sylvie said simply. “I did teach him a few things before I departed.”

“Does...so it’s safe to tell him of our lives here?” Jasper asked, guilt in his face.

Sylvie sighed “I’d be lying if I said I’d not disclosed certain...births to him when I spoke to him a few days ago. Relax, I only told him about Dalton by name. He told me to tell you three that he’s proud of you, and that he understands why you keep things from him.”

Jasper’s voice wobbled “I feel like a shit son, right now really.”

“He understands” Sylvie said simply. “Your father has never stopped loving or feeling proud of you three. Never, I swear it.”

“Does...did he want to know anything?” 

“He did want me to pass on a question, along with his praise and love” Sylvie said. “He said that he’s learnt that your mother is not going to change, and that any love he held for her has long since diminished. He’s planning on leaving her, hence the agreement to steal articles from her lab.”

“Blimey. Anything else?”

“He hopes to be more active in your and your children’s lives. Same for Phillip and his new daughters. He wants to be able to be your father, and to make you three proud of him.”

Jasper didn’t realise he had silent tears pouring down his face. “I’ve always been proud to have a parent who loved us, for being us. I’ve never stopped loving Father, and neither has Phil or Noah.”

“I’d suggest you tell him that” Sylvie said softly. “He misses you.”

“We miss him too” Jasper said, voice breaking. “I wish he could meet Dalton and the new babies as well. Will it be safe?”

“That leads me onto my other question for you Jasper.”

Jasper met her gaze, patiently waiting for her request.

“Will you help me defeat your mother, once and for all?” Sylvie asked, deadly serious. 

For a moment, Jasper recalled that his aunt was a very powerful and dangerous Fae who wasn’t to be trifled with. He took her question seriously and remembered all the times his mother could’ve been a mother and chose not to be, instead choosing to be a dictator in their home and that he and his brothers were heirs, not beloved sons. He remembered all the scary moments in the manor, the times he’d been punished and he’d put himself in harm’s way to protect his brothers. As her eldest, Judith had held plans and ambitions for him, plans that didn’t take his feelings or opinions into account. It had forced him onto the road that used magic, that risked him and his children inheriting the magic that coursed through his mother’s ancestral family line.

The line that destroyed any family bonds between him and his mother, the woman who’d given birth to him and caused him to hate her with a passion.

“Yes” Jasper said, voice cold and face expressionless. “I will help you. Where do we begin?”

[abbatoirablaze]

Running From A Dream, Chapter 3

Word Count:  939

Steve smiled as he straightened out the tie to his suit.  He could feel your dreams building themselves up whilst he readied himself.  He could feel the excited bubbling in his chest as he dusted the imaginary dirt from his outfit. 

He was your husband. 

He could feel that much. 

Flowers appeared in his hand, and he frowned.  You’d only picked a simple arrangement; one that wasn’t anything special, and likely something you’d seen in the supermarket, wishing that your loser of a husband had picked something like that up for you instead of ignoring you.

The depressed feelings flooded his mind and his heart ached for you.  He wanted to give you something better.  Something that he knew you deserved. 

He stared at it for a second and the simple arrangement turned into a decadent one.  Long-stemmed red roses were wrapped beautifully with baby’s breath.  He inhaled it for a moment, imaging what your face would look like when you saw it. 

“Steve?”

The door opened and Steve lost his breath as he turned to face you.  A small smile perched itself on his lips, “Annie…you look…”

“I can change if you want,” you offered, suddenly feeling too naked.  Steve shook his head, and you bit your lip, looking away from him as your arms crossed over yourself, trying desperately to hide, “I’m sorry.  I though-“

“You look beautiful, Annalise.”

You looked up at him once more, your eyes catching his own wintry orbs, “really?  Y-you really think so?

“Of course I do,” he exclaimed, reaching out to you.  You melted into his touch as he wrapped his arms around you.  But you shivered ever so slightly when his left hand touched the bare small of your back where the dress dipped.  He frowned, “I-I’m sorry…you know…you can dream me without this…”

She bit her lip and shook her head, “I think you’re perfect the way you are, Steve…I dreamt you up with that for a reason I suppose…it would be weird getting rid of it now…”

He held his hand up, and the projection of Bucky’s metallic left arm disappeared, showing a regular hand, “see?  I can do it if you’d like me to.”

“Steve, please…I just want you the way that you are…”

He frowned, but nodded, allowing the projection of Bucky’s left arm to take back over.  With a small frown he gave you the flowers.  His frown deepened when you all but glazed over it, your attention still wholeheartedly on him.

“Please don’t be upset because of me,” you whispered softly, “I-I don’t want any sadness tonight, Steve…it-it’s our anniversary…right?  Y-you’re my husband and we-we should be happy…”

Steve nodded, allowing himself to fall back into the habit; so long as it allowed him to be with you, he was content for the moment. 

“Right,” he agreed, pursing his lips into a straight line, “we’ve got reservations, right?”

You nodded, and the two of you were in a fancy restaurant surrounded by other chic couples.  But none of them mattered.  They all seemed like background noise while you allowed yourself to get sucked up into the dream. 

Wine and dinners appeared in front of you, and you took a sip, the sweet red balancing perfectly on your tongue.

“Steve…this…”

“Is incredible?” he finished, the smile perking up his features.  He reached across the table and took your hands in his own, “I know…but I only want the best for you, my love.  You’re my wife and it’s our anniversary.”

“It’s your anniversary?” the waiter asked as he filled the glasses, “congratulations to the Mr. and Mrs.”

You blushed, your heart fluttering at the look your gorgeous brunette husband gave you.  A wisp of his long, dark hair fell out of his bun and into his face.  You leaned forward to brush it away, and afterwards, his left hand perched itself under your chin.  Your eyes met, and you leaned it, his lips catching your own. 

You moaned into the kiss, and the noise in the background disappeared.  When the two of you broke away, you were surprised to see Steve and yourself in your bedroom.

“Steve?” you gasped. 

“Let me make love to you,” he asked cautiously.  Your heartrate picked up as you watched him undo his tie and take off his suit jacket, “let me be the best husband for you, Annalise.  I-I know what you’re thinking…what you want…I want you to say it, Annie.  I want you to tell me.”

You shivered, your skin suddenly feeling cool. 

Your dress was gone and your back hit the soft mattress.  Steve hovered above you, his fingers caressing your soft skin. 

“Steve,” you whispered softly.  It was as though if you spoke his name too loudly, he’d disappeared.  Your eyes met and you gasped, “Steve…I want to have a baby…”

Steve felt like his heart stopped inside of his chest as he stared at you.  He knew that’s what you wanted to say, but it still felt like a moment he wanted to freeze forever, “a baby?”

“The perfect combination of you and me,” you offered sweetly, your hand stroking his stubbled cheek.  He leaned into your touch, “I want him to have your eyes, and your smile.”

“Him?”

“Or her,” you mused, “I want a child with my husband, Steve.  With you.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Steve promised as his cock teased along your entrance.  You shivered, just now realizing the position you were in as he hovered over you, “just say the word, Annie…say it and I’ll give it to you.  I’ll make your dreams come true.”

“Put a baby in me, Steve…please…make love to me.”

Tag List:  @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @lohnes16, @teambarnes72

[wardenparker]

Killer Writing - chapter 8

Dave York x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

After divorcing Carol so she could marry her soulmate, Dave York threw himself into his work. There is no way he could have predicted that the unexpected collateral damage on an op would turn out to be his soulmate. Now all he can do is keep you safe, and try his best to get you to not hate him as the two of you try to navigate a blooming relationship that started out with threats and a mean right hook.  

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+! Word Count: 14.4k Warnings: *Blanket content warning for self-esteem, self-image, and weight issues.* Nightmares, curing, continued gun things, serious anxiety, discussion of PTSD/combat. Light dom/sub dynamics, soft dusting of ‘daddy’ usage, begging, basically the closest we can get to sex without them actually fucking, mention of breeding kink, Dave being exceedingly manly. Food mentions. Summary: Life in the cabin is going to present a few challenges, but might also pave the way to some new relationships amongst the group.  Notes: So sorry for the delay in posting time this week, guys. Chronic illness has truly been kicking my ass. Hopefully the way these two anxious babies love the hell out of each other will be worth the wait. 💘

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

It’s after sunrise when you wake up but who knows how long after, gasping for air and feeling like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You’re at the cabin. The safe house. There is literally no safer place to be. It’s in the name. The dream you were having reverberates between your ears, making you reach for the man next to you to just make sure he’s okay. He’s alive, lying beside you, and that fucking bullet was aimed at you not him. He’s okay. 

The second you shift and touch him, his eyes open. Sleep had been practically non-existent last night. Several times, he had slipped out of the bed to check the security and put his eyes on the perimeter of the cabin. Needing to make sure that you were safe. He had fired off several text messages, still furious that they were coming for you despite their seller being dead and the information gone. His gut is telling him that they believe you might still have a copy of it, wanting to get their hands on it. "Morning." He rasps out, clearing his throat and trailing his eyes over your face to see how you are feeling this morning.

“Morning.” The impulse to practically throw yourself into his side is too strong to deny and you burrow under his arm immediately. “Did you sleep?”

“Would you actually believe me if I said yes?” He asks, head hurting but pushing it aside so he can focus on you.

“I would take it as a compliment.” You tell him, voice muffled against his skin. “I’d like to think you can relax around me, but I know things aren’t normal right now…”

“Baby…it’s not because I’m not relaxed around you.” He promises softly, hand stroking your back. “I’m just on edge.” He swallows. “I almost lost you last night.”

The brittle edges of your nightmare are sticking into your heart like barbed wire, and you sniffle audibly. “I dreamt it was you,” you admit, voice so quiet even you can barely hear yourself. “Th-that’s what woke me up…”

He knows how that feels. Dreaming about someone that he cares about being in harm’s way or killed. He soothes you, pulling you tighter and trying to ground you in his touch. “We are both safe. Right here in this cabin, in this bed, together.”

“I know.” The knowledge doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arm around him, though, and holding him as tight as he is holding you - both of you desperate to prove to yourself that you are actually safe. “I know you’ll protect me. I just wish I could protect you somehow.”

His lips find your hair and he sighs. “Honey…you are doing more by being here than you will ever realize.” He murmurs softly.

“I hope so.” With a weak smile, you press your lips to the warm skin of his shoulder and shift to slide out of bed. “Gonna brush my teeth so I can kiss you,” you explain when his brow furrows slightly at your moving away from him.

“Stay.” He insists. “I don’t care.” He doesn’t want you to leave, hating how vulnerable you sound and he feels. “Just kiss me.”

“But yesterday…?” You shake your head at yourself and crawl back under the covers, waiting no time in tucking right back into his side where you belong. “I’m okay, love. We’re okay.” Kissing him is as easy as breathing now that you’ve passed the awkward barrier of the very first time, and if he’d let you, you swear just would just live with your lips pressed to his.

“I –” He grins when he realizes his blunder yesterday. “I meant my morning breath was bad.” He tells you. “Not that I couldn’t kiss you. Carol never liked it.”

“Sounds like Carol was pickier than me.” Leaning in lets you nudge his nose with yours easily. “As long as I get to kiss you, that’s all I care about.”

Dave smiles and presses his lips to yours. “Good.”

This is the only place nothing else matters. Right here in Dave’s arms with his scent filling your nose and his body under your fingertips, his soft sighs vibrating in your ears with every taste of his lips. This is the only place that the rest of the world doesn’t exist and you can just be, even pushing away this morning’s intrusive thoughts when his strong arms wind around you and roll you onto your back - pinning you under his bulk in a way that makes you feel nearly dainty despite every hang up you’ve ever had with your own size.

“Baby.” He trails kisses along your jaw and nips your skin with his teeth. “You are so soft and warm.” He growls out happily, grinding against your cunt.

“All —” you whimper at the contact, swollen clit already hypersensitive to the searing hot pressure of having him against you. “All for you, love. Always.”

"I'm not going to - fuck you." He grunts, loving the way your breath hitches and your legs spread even more, giving him more access to you. "Not right now." He leans down and sucks on your pulse. "But I do want you to feel good. Do you want to cum baby?"

“Mmhmm.” Whining and squirming under him, you nod your head frantically as though he would even be looking at your face instead of concentrating on littering your skin with bites, licks, and sucking kisses that you’ll be feeling residually for hours. “Please…please — want to cum for you.” You beg, eyes closed in your own little world of bliss as you reach one hand between you to palm his heavy cock.

“Shit.” He hisses, hips rolling forward into your hand. It’s amazing how worked up you can get him. “Baby, let me make you cum.” He practically whines, pushing against your hand.

Though you would do anything to make him say your name in that needy voice, the need to feel him overwhelm all your senses gets the better of you. With one more gentle squeeze for good measure, you slowly and deliberately bring your hands up over your head. The thought of those elaborate restraints you unwrapped yesterday morning at his kitchen island makes you wish he carried cuffs or something, undeniable curiosity bubbling to the surface.

There is something about seeing you lift your hands up, submitting and giving yourself over to him that nearly makes him feral. He lurches up, grasping the sides of your panties in both of his hands and shredding to them in his eagerness to get to your naked folds.

“Oh fuck…” His full bulk between your legs keeps you from doing anything but whining at how desperate his reaction is, and despite the fact that he just ruined your best panties you absolutely could not fucking care less at the moment. Your fingers carefully wind around the wooden rods in the bed’s headboard, holding on tight as Dave’s hungry eyes take in your whole body underneath him. If you didn’t want so badly for your first time to be a romantic moment of passion, you would be begging him to fuck you right now.

There’s a grunt, a whine, when he pushes your legs up onto his shoulder but he’s too busy shoving his boxers down to even care. Letting his cock flop out and the weight of it rests against the slick lips of your cunt. “Fuck.” He hisses, shallowly thrusting and groaning when your wetness starts to coat him.

Every stunted shudder of his hips nudges the head of his cock over your swollen clit and you swear you might suddenly develop enough strength to break this fucking headboard from how tight you’re gripping the thing. “Need more.” Is the desperate moan that makes it past your lips. “Please, Daddy.”

There is a wicked smirk on his face when you say that. Pulling back, he spits on your pussy and slides his cock back through the extra wetness. Spitting should not be sexy, the voice in the back of your head protests, but here you are rolling your hips up to meet his own movements and practically crying at how good it feels to have him thrusting anywhere near your pussy.

He loves looking down and seeing the head of his cock sliding through your folds. Knowing that if the timing was right, he could just slide inside you. But this teasing is what is needed right now, not willing to take that step until you are ready. He ruts against you, groaning at how slick it sounds, how eagerly you are squirming under him. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“F-feels so—fuck—” With your mind everywhere and pleasure overwhelming every sensation, it seems impossible to form a coherent sentence let alone express just how amazing he feels not-quite fucking you. Your whole body is lit up like a star map, little supernovas of pleasure exploding with every thrust of his hips. “Holy shit.”

Dave groans, loving how fucked out you look, even if his cock isn’t buried inside you. Loving how you are experiencing pleasure beyond just the normal expectation. The puffy lips of your cunt catching on the shaft of his cock and making him groan as he ruts against you.

It feels otherworldly, this cloud you’re riding on so far above any kind of normal reality, and the rambling begging and pleading tumbling from your lips would be unrecognizable to your ears if you could actually process anything you’re saying. All you know is you desperately need to cum and you want him to utterly wreck you in the process. If you hadn’t committed to keeping your hands tangled in the bed frame, you might be clawing at him right now in an effort to drag him closer, but with every sensation better than the last, you don’t know that you would even want him to do anything different.

“Look at you.” He groans, keeping his hips moving and turning his head to scrape his teeth along the inside of your right knee. “So fucking eager to cum. You’re going to be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks, letting go of your calf and slapping the outside of your thigh. Groaning when you keen and arch up, almost making him venture too close to your entrance.

“P-please.” It might be the most-moaned word in your vocabulary, and you don’t even care. “So…so fucking close. Oh my god.”

He keeps rolling his hips, fingers biting into the soft flesh of your calves and making the skin indent from how he is gripping you. The slick sounds of his flesh sliding over yours and the slap of the way his hips meet your thighs fills the space in the tiny cabin room. Driving away every thought but the sole focus of how hot you are, how wet you are getting, and he loves the way that the wood from the headboard creaks from how hard you are pulling on it, using it to keep yourself from flying off the bed. "Fuck"

It’s on a longer pass of his hips that the searing head of his cock nudges your overstimulated clit just right and you practically black-out with the force of the organ that crashes over you. Even the best times you’ve even given yourself - even as amazing as yesterday and the day before were - it’s a little like being thrown off a fifty-story drop and trusting him to catch you. The way your body tenses up, grasping for any way to bring him in closer when he’s not actually inside you, makes his name sound strangled from your lips but fuck if it isn’t better than you had ever dreamed that to see moments with your soulmate could be.

He can feel the blood pounding in your clit. The way your cunt begs him to fill it, making him grit his teeth, hissing out a curse while he watches your heavy-lidded eyes flutter in pleasure. Steadily thrusting through your folds and loving the way that you whimper every time your overstimulated sex reacts to having him rub against you. His own pace stutters slightly as he gets close.

“C-cum for me, daddy, fuck need to see you cum.” The hears in your mind utterly change gears when you feel his hips stutter against you, no longer giving a single fuck about anything but his pleasure. Watching him. Having him cum all across your skin if he can manage it - and that thought has you breathless. “Cum on me, please!”

It's fucking filthy hearing that come out of your mouth. Making Dave groan when his entire body tightens and that rush of heat races down his spine to make him start throbbing. Dark eyes nearly coal black from how lust blown they are as he looks down at you, the first spurt of his release painting a long rope up your belly.

You swear you nearly cum a second time yourself just from watching - the way Dave’s whole body tightens like a bowstring over you and long jets of pearlescent cum look opaque white against your skin. “Jesus fuck…” You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until you let it go, falling back against the sheets and reaching to coax him down to you with one crooked finger. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

He doesn't care that he's going to get his cum on his stomach, when you beckon him down, he's lowering himself to you. Letting your legs fall off his shoulders so he can press against you and kiss your lips. "Yeah?" There's a smug, cocky tone to his voice as he pulls back, pecking your lips again. "How is that?"

“I thought seeing stars when you cum was a myth.” The hum in your throat when he misses you pitches up into a whine of protest when he pulls away. “Apparently not.”

“Only when you’re with me.” He teases, smirking when he looks at the mess he made of your body. “Want to shower?” He asks. “I’ll wipe off and start a fire for us.”

“Sounds perfect.” Reaching up for him one more time, Dave helps you haul your messy self off the bed and laughs when you struggle out of the bundled-up trap your shirt became during all that morning exercise. There isn’t anything in the cabin that you can wear yet besides what you came in, so it looks like no underwear for you until his team drops off supplies.

Dave grins, slapping your ass and admiring the way that it jiggles. “I’m not sorry at all.” He announces, chuckling at your pursed lips as you pick up your destroyed panties.

“These were my good ones,” you inform him, trying for scolding but falling far short. Everything that just happened was far too perfect to ever be upset about.

“I will buy you more.” He promises. “As many as you want in every color you can think of.”

“It’s fine.” They’re just panties, and it would be a silly thing to get upset about in the first place. “You’re just going to have to deal with me going commando until your team drops off our supplies,” you tease, throwing him a wink as you scamper off to the shower.

"Ohhhhh nooooo." He calls out sarcastically after you. "That's horrible. I guess I must go commando too."

*****

When you re-emerge about twenty minutes later after a scalding hot shower using soap that smells like him, you pull your clothes from the night before back on and find him sitting in front of the fireplace with a small fire crackling away. “So what is on the agenda today?” You ask him, plopping down right beside him and tucking into his side.

"I'm going to check the perimeter alarms when the guys arrive." He reaches over and grips your thigh. "Make sure that we have everything in place. Chop some extra wood."

“Is one of them going to stay in here with me?” The paranoia - the fear - leaks through the question and you instantly hate yourself for it. It’s fair for you to be scared, but you don’t want him to think you’re weak.

"That's why I want to wait until they get here." He reassures you. He knows that you are scared. If he hadn't led the life he has, he would be too. Fuck, there is a tiny portion of him that is scared. Scared of not being able to protect you and losing you to this. His hand flexes around the soft flesh of your thigh and he soothes it by rubbing gently. "I want you to feel safe and baby..." He waits until your reluctantly eyes meet yours. "You are doing great. You are so brave."

“I don’t feel it,” you admit quietly, leaning into the bulk of him further. He’s an anchor, keeping you from floating away in the panic and uncertainty of everything around you. “But thank you.”

"Baby...." He sighs and rubs your thigh. "I curled up into a ball and cried on the floor of my tent after the first firefight I was in." He admits softly. "People shooting at me, firing RPGs at our position and actively trying to kill me. I had to fire back. I had to kill them before they could kill me and my men." His voice is slightly hollow, and he is taken back to nearly twenty years before, fresh out of training and deployed. "Still didn't stop me from bawling like a baby when I came back to base alive." He looks over at you and gives you a stiff smile. "You are doing better than I did."

“If I had had to fire back to survive, I’d be dead right now.” That much you can promise him as you wind your arms around his waist and tug him tight against you. He is your anchor, and you are determined to be his if you can. “Plus, I think I’m in shock a little. But whatever it is, I’m just glad you’re here.”

"I'm going to stay here." He vows, his own arm lifting and coming around your shoulder to pull you tight. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. I have to find out the ending to your story." He teases, wanting to lighten the moment slightly.

“Fuck if I know.” Your laugh is practically a hiccup and you nudge his chest playfully. “I make it up as a go along. The end could come tomorrow or it could come in fifty years.”

"Life imitating art?" He asks, brow lifting, and he appraises you with a teasing grin. "Or art imitating life?"

“I never had any kind of life that art would want to imitate before.” Pushing yourself up a little, you press a soft kiss to his lips and grin. “I guess that’s what the book will be for.”

He chuckles and leans over to kiss you again. "Then I guess I better make sure it's a good experience, huh?"

“Well, it’s definitely not boring.” A tilt of your head and a smirk accompany your small laugh, and you lace your fingers through his easily. “What should we do until they get here? Just sit around and keep being cute by the fire?”

"Well, I was thinking that you must be hungry." He hums. "Considering that you didn't eat much last night and go through and see what kind of food we have stored."

“You’re in charge.” That’s not even a stretch - knowing that he is far more capable of taking care of the two of you in this environment than you could ever hope to be. “Lead the way and I’ll happily follow.”

He snorts and smirks at you. "Oh, don't tell me that." He huffs, recovered from his irritation at you being in danger now that you are relatively safer and able to concentrate on you again.

“Why not?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently. “Daddy doesn’t want to be in charge?”

"Brat..." He hisses, narrowing his eyes playfully at you. "Don't make me take you across my knee and spank you."

“I might like it.” It isn’t a word you ever thought would apply to you - brat - but the way his eyes light up like fire when he says it makes you want to find out. You never thought you would end up calling anyone daddy in bed, either. “Can’t know unless we try.”

"Oh, we can." He promises, voice dropping down a few octaves. "I can imagine that ass with my handprint raised on your skin. Your little pussy dripping when you beg me to fuck you."

“Just like I almost did a half an hour ago?” You reveal, raising one eyebrow at him and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in the best imitation of a sultry expression that you can muster.

"I'm really going to kill that man when I get my hands on him." He groans, cock twitching again. "We could have....fuck...."

Now you actually feel a little bad, chuckling weakly as you shrug your shoulders. “It would have been the perfect way to end our first date…but…shit happened…”

He hums, reaching up and cupping your cheek. "I – shit, you are just amazing."

“Why? Because I want to sleep with you?” You scrunch up your nose and shake your head at him. “That just means I have eyes and a general attraction to men. I’m surprised you don’t have people lined up around your apartment building.”

"I'm picky." He teases, leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose. "Honestly, I'm too old to be going out and picking up random women, and I wasn't comfortable with someone getting close again. Not until someone punched me on the jaw."

“Not very well-behaved of me.” You snicker, kissing the tip of his nose in turn. “My brattiest moment, if I ever had one.”

"You can be bratty." He huffs. grinning at you. "I didn't hate it."

“We’ll see. I think the only time I’ll ever be throwing a punch your way again is when you’re teaching me.” Shuffling around a little, you push up into your knees, brush a kiss on his lips, and stand. “Want to check out our food storage situation?”

"Of course baby." He immediately stands, following you as you make your way to the kitchen. "Although you might try to punch me if I surprise you." He jokes, chuckling at your huff.

“You just want to get hit.” He does it to tease you, you know that, and you can’t deny enjoying it as a show of affection. The kitchen cupboards are full - pots and pans and all manner of tools alongside nonperishable foods and plenty of mixes. “The pancake mix only needs water.” You offer, after scrounging around a little. “There’s cooking spray and maple syrup. Does the stove need propane, or does it have gas?”

"It's all connected to a tank." He tells you. "It's all ready to go, just needs the pilot lit."

“Pancakes, then?” It’s the closest thing to a normal meal you can offer, and a little normalcy sounds comforting.

"That sounds good." He hums. "There is also some shelf stable bacon." He offers.

“Well now we’re just fancy.” You shoot him a grin as the two of you start to assemble the things necessary for your breakfast just as easily as if you were still in his apartment.

"We like the creature comforts." He argues playfully. "The boys will bring up your tea so you can cozy up with a cup in front of the fireplace like this is just a weekend away." He wants you to have that normalcy. "And a computer so you can work on your idea. No chance of them tracking it because there is no internet up here."

“I am an expert at playing pretend.” The familiar motions of cooking are soothing in their own right, making it easy to chat and smile despite the reason you’re tucked away from civilization. “That’s what my friend and I do all day long. Just…over the Internet.”

"There is nothing wrong with that." He understands. "I never consciously think about the fact that my mother is gone. I just- she's never available to talk, you know?"

“Ours is more like…playing the sandboxes other people have made.” You shrug, measuring out water from the sink to add to the pre-made flour mix. “You know - fanfic. She and I write together sometimes.”

"Really?" He arches a brow and smirks. "Getting together and plotting smutty little scenes?" He likes the idea of what might have been said between girlfriends, having learned early on what women talk about when they get together when Carol would have wine night at the house.

“We’ve…” Huffing, you pour your momentary embarrassment into whisking the pancake batter. “We’ve never actually met. She got a family and everything in Virginia and I’m just her weird Internet gremlin friend. But she’s great, and I…I just hope she’s not worried, that’s all. We usually talk every day.”

"If you want, you can give one of the guys her username and they can send her a message." Dave offers. It's not like people don't know you are alive now, so it would be less risk than if you were to try to contact her.

“That…that would be good. Thank you, love.” It’s actually a huge relief, but your eyebrows furrow a little anyway. “Maybe my dad, too? Just to tell him that I found you? We could say we went on a little vacation or something. Just so he won’t worry?”

"I'm actually going to send Resnick over to watch over your dad." He hadn't told you that yet, but he didn't want something happening to the old man because of all of this. "So if you want to write him a letter, he can give it to him directly."

Abandoning the bowl of batter momentarily, you fling both arms tight around Dave’s waist and squeeze. “Thank you,” you murmur into his chest. “My Dad and Katie mean everything to me. I mean…before you, they were all I had.”

"Now you have more than them." He promises, knowing that every single one of the guys would do whatever it took to keep you safe. The moment Dave accepted you as his soulmate, you had become one of the group - even if you weren't completely okay with what they did. "You've got big brothers and you'll love Kovac's wife."

“What’s she like?” All you know about her so far is that she once slept with Dave - so clearly she has impeccable taste.

"Well, she's your body type." He hums, taking the opportunity to leer at you while you turn back to your pancake mix. "Shoulder length hair that she puts pink and purple streaks in. She's got a dirty sense of humor - have to with Kovac for her soulmate. Takes no shit and funny enough, she's a writer too. Op ed for the Washington Chronicle." He chuckles. "For her birthday last year, she made Kovac get a tattoo of a rose on his ass because she always wanted one but she didn't want the pain."

The way you freeze up at the stove with your mouth hanging open and your eyes wide should be comical but it’s just too big of a coincidence. It can’t be. That would be far too crazy. “What…um…what did…” you shake your head, grasping at composure. “They have two boys? Five and three?”

It's Dave's turn to freeze, shifting back through the information that Kovac had given you during that afternoon in his apartment. Had it really only been yesterday? "They do." He nods. "Turner and Hunter."

“And a golden retriever named Bo?” You remember two years ago when they adopted the slobbering ball of snuggles. It was right after you and Katie had started talking regularly. “She…um…she publishes under her maiden name, right?”

Dave huffs, shaking his head. “Wilkins, yeah. She uses K.K Wilkins.” He puts his hands on his hips. “How do you know this?” His trust doesn’t waver but it’s starting to get fucking creepy.

The way you practically slump against the stove makes you grateful it’s not turned on yet, and you’re practically in tears for no other reason than being overwhelmed at this incredibly welcome turn of events. “Because I’ve been talking to her everyday for almost two years,” you tell him quietly, sniffling back an overflow of emotion. “Yesterday I thought it was a silly coincidence that Kovac’s wife has the same name as my friend. But…it’s not. It’s her. The tattoo story couldn’t be more than one person.”

His eyes widen and there is a moment when he just absorbs the fact that he could have met you through a completely innocent turn of events. And then he throws his head back and laughs.

“What?” Whatever reaction you had been expecting from him, this definitely isn’t it.

“Oh - fuck.” He manages to catch his breath and he reaches for you. “You- there was a story you, uh, co-wrote with her?” He tilts his head. “How to Sleep with Your Husband’s Best Friend - apparently I’m Dan. I didn’t even catch that.”

“No!” Bundled up against his chest, his laughter rattles through both of you and infects you right to the core. “I…um…I definitely had some good me time writing that story,” you admit with a laugh.

“God.” He huffs. “What are the fucking odds?” He asks, kissing your forehead. “At least the story was flattering.”

“I guess the universe really wanted us together.” What else could have done it if not the power of the universe and all your silly little soulmate markings. “We we’re going to meet come hell or high water.”

“You would have had to meet her in person.” He reminds you playfully. “Not just being her internet gremlin friend.”

“So instead, the universe decided to have me almost get killed. Twice.” While you might be playing it up like it’s overdramatic, it definitely is just dramatic with no over- or under-. “I was just being a good little gremlin…minding my own business…”

“Gremlin.” He shakes his head and kisses your head again. “Maybe the universe thought I needed to be showcased as the hero, saving his damsel in distress.” He teases.

“I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle it.” There’s probably no way he’ll pick up on the reference you’re making, but you toss him the best sultry smirk you can manage and cock your hip in his direction as you turn back to the stove to actually start cooking your breakfast, grinning with amusement over the whole thing. The world really did look at the two of you and go by any means necessary and then picked the absolute most insane scenario in the world to make happen.

“You have to admit, this is a way cooler story than being introduced by your porn writing buddy.” He tells you, enjoying this. Now he knows Kate’s secret and he’s just got to find out if her meathead of a husband knows.

“I dunno, I could stand not to be targeted by assassins or secret agents or whatever.” And the fact that that is a real sentence is both ludicrous and terrifying, but you just roll your eyes as you light the pilot light on the stove.

“Are you sure?” He asks playfully. “You are in a romantic cabin surrounded by snow. Tucked away. Perfect for losing your virginity when you’re ready.”

“And it would have been just as perfect in your apartment.” Leaning over, you press a kiss over his heart and reach for the cooking spray to get some pancakes underway. “Although, I have to admit…the fireplace is a nice touch. The apartment doesn’t have a fireplace.”

“House with a fireplace.” He hums. “Noted. You want one in the bedroom or just in the living room?” He asks seriously.

“As long as there is one, I don’t care.” But this line of conversation is a kind of warm that goes right to your heart instead of your core, and you smile at him. “What’s the one thing you absolutely must have when we buy a house?”

“Are you going to look at me strange when I say a basement?” He asks, smirking at you slightly.

“Depends on what you want the basement for.” You tell him honestly, and wish you had your mug of tea to wrap your hands around and sip. “Man Cave? Game Room? Absolutely. Murder Lab? No way.”

He snorts. “Murder lab.” He shakes his head and gives you a disappointed look as he props his hands on his hips. “There has been one thing that I have brought back to my residence that would tie me to the things that I do.” He tells you. “You. You are the only thing from a job I have ever brought home.”

“I was teasing, love.” Even saying the word, using it like a little pet name, gives you a thrill and a sense of belonging that makes you feel like you’re glowing. “Of course you should have a basement if you want one. No questions asked.”

“Oh you should ask some questions.” He huffs, reaching out and pinching you. “It might be a sex dungeon for all you know.”

“If it’s a sex dungeon then maybe I want to be surprised.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and smirk. “That sounds like a really fun surprise.”

“Fuck.” He hisses, biting his lip and imagining how you are going to torment him throughout his life with that damn surprising sense of humor. “I will not get over how you are still a virgin but so damn filthy.”

“Well, you can blame part of that on Katie.” Your friend is a constant source of encouragement and tends to gleefully needle at some of your dirtier qualities, bringing them to the surface. Especially when you write together. “But mostly it’s just all that pent-up sexual energy that I haven’t gotten out over my entire life, minus the last four days.”

“So I’m going to be fucked out when we have sex?” He teases.

Rolling your eyes at him, you flip the pancakes in the pan and nudge his side. “Baby, I’ve got like fifteen years of being horny and single to make up for. We’ll be fine.”

“I might have to get some Viagra to keep up with your demands.” He moans woefully, completely kidding of course.

“Easier to get than a lot of a lot of life-saving treatments.” You shrug merrily, loving his teasing mood. “I’m sure you’ll get a high-five from the doc when you go in complaining that your soulmate is too horny for you to keep up with.”

He snorts and bobbles his head in agreement. “Probably.” He admits, unable to resist sliding up behind you back and squeezing your ass. “But I don’t think I’ll need that for a while.”

“I seriously doubt it.” A tiny roll of your hips makes him almost choke on a breath and you grin victoriously as you reach across the counter to grab the bacon he had found and throw it in a second pan. “This morning was perfect, by the way. The perfect way to wake up and the perfect kind of half-step to feel more ready for actual sex.”

“Just let me know if I push too fast.” He demands softly, leaning in and pressing his lips to the juncture of your neck. “I never want you feeling rushed.”

“I don’t.” You hum softly at the way his lips on your skin light up every nerve ending in your body. “I’m ready. Now it’s just about finding the perfect moment.”

“Should have asked them to bring a bottle of wine.” He murmurs between kisses to your neck. “Or a bottle of whiskey.”

“You’re telling me this place doesn’t have any booze stored away?” A little whimper escapes your lips when he nips at your skin. “I don’t believe that.”

“Okay there might be a bottle in the top cabinet.” He hums. “But the cheap shit. You don’t care when your numbing an injury.”

“We don’t need it anyway,” you tell him, easily tipping your head to one side to give him more skin to kiss as his hands start wandering. “All I need is you.”

The perimeter alarm starts to sound. A small beeping and a flashing light near the front door. Dave looks up, already expecting the guys but he pulls away, patting yours ass in reassurance. “Keep cooking baby.” He murmurs. “It’s the guys.”

“They have terrible timing.” You pout, hating that you have to lose the heat of Dave’s body against yours even if it’s for a good reason.

“The fucking worst.” He agrees, walking into the living room and checking the window to make sure it was in fact the guys. Even if he was expecting them, he wouldn’t make another mistake with your safety.

Resnick’s truck crests the top of the hill easily, it’s nondescript appearance and utter lack of anything remarkable making it the perfect vehicle for this trip. Just another truck with a covered cab rolling down the highway on a regular day. Ari jumps out of the cab as soon as he parks, wasting no time in checking the perimeter while Kovac climbs out to knock on the cabin door.

Dave unlocks the door and opens it. “Any issues getting here?” He demands, watching Resnick walk over to the car Dave had stolen yesterday.

“We thought we might have a tail at first but the van took an exit halfway here. Coincidence.” Kovac looks around the cabin, waving awkwardly when he glances in your direction. “You guys manage okay last night?”

“Yeah, we were good.” Dave doesn’t mention your newfound connection to the group, leaving that up to you. “Of course it was upsetting for her, but she’s tougher than she knows.”

"Good." Kovac's head bobs a little as he looks around the cabin. "We're gonna figure this out, Dave," he murmurs, not wanting you to hear him. "We're not gonna let them get to her again."

“No we’re not.” Of that he’s completely certain. “I think they believe she has another copy of the specs.” He reveals. “Since they didn’t get it from the lab.”

"That's a fair guess." The corresponding nod Kovac gives is slightly off kilter, but he rubs his chin thoughtfully. "The haul we brought with us should have you guys set up for three weeks. If we need more than that for any reason, we can do another drop, but we'll be in touch far before then."

“Good.” Dave nods. “I’m going to send Resnick to her dad.” He tells Kovac. “She’s not going to be home for Christmas and I don’t want the old man to worry. And I don’t want those fucks to use him to draw her out.”

"Is there anyone else we need to check on?" The other man has no idea what family or friends you might have, but if Dave is thinking this far ahead then he already has an answer.

Dave grins and gives a small chuckle. “I’ll let her tell you about the other one. Her friend apparently has been worried about her.”

After starting up a second pan of pancakes, you can actually step away from the stove long enough to stick your head around the corner. “Everything okay?” You ask, eyes flicking between Dave and his friend Kovac curiously. “I mean…as okay as it can be? All things considered?”

“Yeah babe.” Dave motions you over. “Talk to this knucklehead and I’ll watch the pancakes.” He offers, smirking at you.

You manage to steal a kiss as Dave passes you and are grinning like an idiot by the time you make it out into the living room. “He wants me to talk to you about Kate,” you explain, knowing Kovac won’t have a single fucking clue as to what’s going on.

The larger man immediately frowns and shuffles on his feet, hand coming up to swipe at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.” He huffs, feeling guilty for potentially causing problems between you and Dave for his previous dalliances. “I shouldn’t have made it seem like Dave would cheat or still had something for Kate. He doesn’t. He was one thousand percent faithful to Carol - beyond watching a beautiful woman walk by. But that’s—” he gestures helpless and tries not to stick his foot in his mouth. “That’s not any different than drooling over some actor.”

“Which she does with her friend online.” You prompt, making sure you don’t sound the least bit judgmental and trying to go all the way for up-beat. “This isn’t about Dave and Kate having slept together. I honestly don’t care who he was with before I met him. Just…has she mentioned anything about an online friend being MIA the last few days? A friend she writes stories with sometimes?” Sure you’ve talked every day for the last two years, but fuck if you know if she has ever mentioned you to her husband in any way, shape, or form.

He frowns, running his hand over his face and scraping the prickly hair of his stubble. “She mentioned it last night before bed. She hadn’t said much - just that it’s been a fucking week and she’s trying to figure out what she did to piss her off and if ‘Gremlin’ hasn’t responded by today, she wanted me to track her down and make sure she’s okay using every contact I have.” He frowns. “Why?”

That makes you smile in a grateful way you hadn’t anticipated - that Kate would be so worried that she would ask for something like that. It’s relieving to know that the sisterhood you’ve developed isn’t at all one-sided. “Because… I’m ‘3gremlinsinalabcoat’. Dave and I just figured it out. I asked him to tell me a little about your wife and it all just clicked.”

“Oh shit.” His mouth drops open and his eyes widen for a moment in shock. “Really?” He processes it and grins. “Dave! Dave!” He shouts, making the other man look around the corner. “Our soulmates are going to be trouble together!” He cackles.

“Will you just let her know I’m okay? Tell her I’m sorry I disappeared?” You shake your head, smiling. “It’s kind of your fault I disappeared without a word, anyway. So I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Shit.” He hisses, realizing how screwed he is when his wife finds out that piece of information. He digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Selfie for proof of life?” He begs. “Otherwise, I’m the doghouse forever.”

Katie has always described her husband as being like one of those strawberry candies everybody’s grandma used to carry - hard and seemingly impenetrable outside with a sweet, gushy inside once you put in the work to get there. You can see it now, as he pulls out his phone and leans in close to put both of your faces in the frame. “Please tell her that I’m sorry I made her worry,” you ask, knowing that if it was you and she had just stopped talking - you would have assumed that she hated you.

Kovac snaps the photo and takes another, turning and kissing your cheek. “I’ll let her know. It’s our fault, so she can yell at me about it.” He promises before he winks at you. “After I tell her that you’re busy getting to know Dave - your soulmate.” He chuckles and rubs your back. “She talks about you a lot. Conversations you have, stories you’re writing. You are her best friend.”

“She’s mine, too.” And the relief you feel that you won’t have to hide any of this from her is enough to bowl you over right where you stand. “She’s kept me afloat so many times when I felt like I was drowning that we used to joke that I was her second soulmate.”

He chuckles and nods. “Do you know how many times she threaten to trade me for ‘Gremlins’ when I annoyed her?” She had been joking and he had never taken offense but it was ironic how things were working out.

“Sounds like it will just be a girls’ day from now on,” you joke. “Although now I totally get why we went so long without really talking about family so much. She told me that you were in law enforcement…which is putting it very mildly.”

He has the decency to blush, rubbing at the back of his neck again and shuffling awkwardly. “Yeah.” He gives a slight shrug. “It’s easier than trying to explain what we really do.”

“Dave’s serious about the security firm,” You remind him gently. “It’ll be different soon. I know she worries about you - she’s said so and I couldn’t really understand it before. But I definitely do now.”

He blows out a breath, rolling his shoulders back and releasing the tension in them. “I know she will be thrilled.” He admits. “She’s never loved what we do, but it’s never affected our home life beyond out of town trips.”

“I’m sorry you and I got off on a bad start.” This is your best friend’s soulmate, and one of your soulmate’s best friends. If nothing else, you don’t want bad air between you. “You were just doing your job and I was, well I was fucking scared, but I’m glad Dave has you guys to watch his back.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He huffs. “We need to apologize. We totally upended your life. But—” He sighs and shoots you a grin. “I am happy for Dave that he saw that tattoo. He’s a good man and he deserves to be happy.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he stays happy.” It’s not an easy promise to make even if the words are easy to say, but you mean it worth every fiber of your being. “I love him. So much.”

“I know he loves you too.” Of that he’s completely certain. “He never even considered quitting for Carol. And she hated it when she found out.”

“For better or worse, he didn’t have any choice in telling me.” The smile on your face when Dave appears again from around the corner is broad and honest. “I’m glad there aren’t any lies between us. Even if the truth isn’t always easy to swallow.”

“That’s true.” Kovac chuckles. “We had decided that our soulmates would know the truth. Too hard to try to keep it a secret.”

Ari and Resnick come through the front door together, shopping bags and cardboard boxes in hand. “Boss!” Ari calls for Dave while Kovac retrieves the bags of your clothing from his hand. “Where do you want us to put this stuff?”

“Leave it on the table.” He calls back. “We’ll organize it and go through it.”

“I’m going to change my clothes.” The announcement is mostly meant for Dave, but this way all the guys know they can discuss whatever business they need to without talking in code around you. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Dave watches you close the door and looks at Resnick. “I’m going to send you to watch over her dad.” He tells him. “They could use him to draw her out.” Ari nods, agreeing with him. “Ari, I need you go to my apartment and watch to see if the fucker comes to snoop.”

“Surveillance on both of your places is streaming straight to my phone.” Ari holds up his iPhone and waggles it in the air. “I know she’s not going back to her old place, but they don’t, so I kept the surveillance in tact. Now I’m fucking glad I did.”

“Good man.” Dave nods in approval, knowing his team rarely makes mistakes and always thinks ahead. “We can’t fuck this up. It’s too important. I almost fucking lost her last night. A kiss saved her goddamn life.”

“Hell of a kiss.” Ari shakes his head with a rueful chuckle. “You guys sit tight and try not to go crazy. Do we have an address for her dad?”

Dave pulls out his phone and sends the address to Resnick. “I told her that she could write a letter for you to give him. It’s almost Christmas and they are all each other had for a long time.”

“I’ll take care of it.” They have all spent enough holidays away from family, he knows how hard the first one can be. “Hopefully we can get everything squared away and the threat neutralized, and you can meet your father-in-law at New Years.”

Dave huffs and nods, not happy to change your plans. “Can you call them - let them know I won’t be able to deliver meals?”

“I’ll take your place,” Ari promises readily. He and his wife had deliberately planned to do nothing at all this year, but leaving fellow vets without a hot meal just isn’t an option to him. He knows she’ll understand, and will probably be a driver herself when he explains. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell Deirdre that I appreciate it.” Dave hums, looking back towards the bedroom door. “You didn’t happen to include anything that could be considered Christmasy, did you?”

“We put a nice bottle of scotch and some chocolates in.” Kovac admits, looking more than a little sheepish as he runs the back of his neck. “Once I tell Kate who she is, I guarantee she’s going to want to drop something off on Christmas Eve.”

“Who she is?” Ari looks confused, trading glances with Resnick. “You mean Dave’s soulmate?”

“She’s Katie’s best friend.” Kovac shakes his head, still baffled by the coincidence. “You know how she’s always on her phone writing stories? Dave’s girl is the one she’s been writing with, apparently.”

“No shit?” Ari chuckles and shakes his head. “Deirdre has read some of those. They’re fucking hot.”

“Everything okay out here?” When you emerge a minute later, the guys are standing around the stove with their heads bowed but smiling. “I don’t know who did the shopping, but thank you. Everything fits.”

“I --uh, did.” Kovac confesses, although shopping wasn’t quite the word he would use for breaking into the Torrid store and stealing the clothes. You didn’t need to know that though. “Katie drags me shopping with her all the time. So…yeah.”

“Thank you.” Reaching out to touch his shoulder on your way to Dave’s side is easy now that you have an extra connection to him through your best friend, and once more the reminder that these men are not their jobs rings loud and clear in your heart.

“You’re welcome.” He gives you a grin and winks. “I threw in some stuff Katie loves and I love taking off of her.” He adds, making the other three men chuckle.

“And somehow she and I are the ones who are trouble?” You shake your head at the group of men doubtfully. “I don’t think so.”

“We never claimed we weren’t trouble.” Ari clarifies with a grin. “Just that you two together was going to be trouble.”

“Even more than we already are.” To that you can agree, but you turn and press a kiss to Dave’s cheek. “We should eat before it gets cold. Unless you have stuff you need to take care of?”

Dave shakes his head. “No. They’ve got to get back.” Resnick rolls his eyes and tosses Dave the keys to his truck. “Do not scratch it.” He warns the team leader.

“Do you want to write a note for your dad?” Resnick prompts, not wanting you to forget. From what Dave said, it’s important.

“I’m going to write him that Dave surprised me with a trip after we met through work.” You tell all of them, so that Resnick won’t be surprised by questions if her dad has any and Dave will know your cover as you dig in your purse in the living room for paper and a pen. “He’s been waiting so long for me to meet my soulmate that I don’t think he’ll be too upset. He’ll tease me about it for sure, but I don’t think he’ll be mad.”

“Tell him that I will bring you for a visit and schedule some golf for us to bond over.” He’s rolling his eyes as he says it, but he would do it for you.

“Thank you, honey.” You know it’s not his ideal way to spend a day, but the fact that he’s willing means the world. Before long, a handwritten note is tucked into an envelope and handed over to Resnick to be delivered. “And thank you guys, too. For everything.”

Resnick is the one that answers. “Of course.” He gives you a smile. “Dave would do the same for us. We might not be in the service anymore, but we are still brothers. Which means you are important to us.”

The door shuts behind them, leaving you and Dave alone in the cabin again with a feeling of finality but less foreboding than you expected. Do you fully trust that they will root out whoever is after you? Yes. But are you now locked into another indefinite period of hiding - this time to a much larger extreme? Definitely yes. “Let’s have breakfast,” you suggest, knowing it’s probably cold by now but that you’ll both need the fuel.

“Okay.” Dave senses that you are uneasy but decides to let you talk to him about it. He doesn’t want you to have to express yourself before you are ready.

Dave being quiet is relatively normal, but not you - and it only lasts about halfway through breakfast before you’re putting down your fork with a frown. “What happens if they can’t get the guy?” You ask quietly, eyes trained on your plate. It’s not that you don’t have faith in his team, it’s that none of you know who is trying to kill you and that’s terrifying in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“Then we set a trap.” He sets down his fork and decides the best thing to do is to be honest. “Draw him out so we can get him.” His face hardens. “And mail him back in tiny pieces so they get the fucking message.”

“Set a trap like…be out in public again and wait to be shot at?” He May have praised You for being calm and collected just a few hours ago but you are not feeling it now. It started building inside you as soon as the door closed, and the tide is rising faster than you can talk it down.

“No.” Dave shakes his head. “Too many variables. Too many potential witnesses and casualties. We would draw him here.” He announces. “It’s isolated and I have the advantage here. I know this place, have cameras and alarms.”

“From safe haven to battleground.” The sigh you let out is shaky and you bury your face in your hands to buy yourself a second of fighting for composure. A panic attack isn’t going to help anything, and it definitely will ruin any good mood either of you had going this morning. “Sounds…terrible, honestly. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I hope it doesn’t either.” Dave can see that you are not handling this well. “If it comes down to it, you will be tucked away in the basement. As safe as you can be.”

“And let you be up here all alone fighting or shooting or whatever it is that will end up happening?” Somehow that is an even worse option, and you can feel the anxiety in your stomach somehow boil at the thought. “No. Fuck that. If you’re going to fight for me, then I’m going to fight for you.” Considering how viscerally you hate guns and violence in general, it’s more of a surprise to you than him to have this come out of your mouth so suddenly. But then - is this the measure of your love for him, in a very odd way? The willingness to put everything aside if it means keeping him by your side? “I want you to teach me.”

He can’t deny that determine face and bold words makes his cock twitch and his heart pound. “We don’t have to do it today, love.” He reminds you. “We can take a moment to breathe.”

“I can’t lose you.” It’s a simple fact, but you’re proud of yourself for not getting teary and ruining the way he looks so proud of you for being brave. “I won’t.”

“You aren’t going to lose me, baby.” He reaches over and takes your hand. “We will start with the basics tonight, okay? And then work on target practice tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You’ll have to get over the tingly anxiety of actually being within three feet of a gun, but you were going to have to do that anyway. Life with another person means adjustments, and that’s okay. Squeezing his hand back, you lean over and press a kiss to the back of it. “We’ll start tonight.”

Dave watches you, making sure you eat enough and don’t let the problems of later affect right now. Once you both are done, he picks up the plates and takes them over to the sink. “If you want to go through the bags and start putting things away, I’ll clean up.” He offers, knowing that you might be a little embarrassed by your feminine products despite him being well acquainted with them.

“I’ll grab the things for the bathroom and put them away.” Those things are most for you since the cabin was stocked with the guys in mind, but while you’re poking through the bags you give a slight chuckle. An economy pack of condoms and a bottle of lube made their way into the supply shopping, and you show it to Dave with amusement. “These are going to come in handy after my prescription is up.” It’s not like you are going to be able to go to the pharmacy for your refill.

"Oh." Dave practically short circuits for a moment as he thinks about that reality. He hadn't dealt with a prescription birth control in a long time, Carol had an IUD placed. "Yeah, um..." He blows out a breath and tries to calm his immediate reaction. "We can see about getting your refill."

“You okay?” That reaction wasn’t slightly more visceral than you expected - honestly just figuring it would either earn you a dirty chuckle or something along those lines.

"Yeah." He croaks out weakly, very happy that he is turned towards the sink and away from you. You've never had sex and you damn sure aren't ready for your soulmate's surprising breeding kink that just roared to life and took him by surprise. Kids have never been something he's been opposed to, but with that one innocent comment you make - he finds himself feeling very cavemanish.

“Honey?” He doesn’t sound okay, and you drop the prophylactics back in the bag and pad into the kitchen. “I didn’t think condoms would be such a conversation point. Talk to me.”

"Just...surprised." He's honest in that point, hoping you just think that he's kicking himself for forgetting a detail.

“Okay.” You’re not totally convinced and don’t like the idea that he would keep something from you, but on momentary reflection you decide you’re probably just reading too much into the situation. “I’ll just put them in the nightstand and my stuff in the bedroom.”

Damnit....He hates the self-doubt in your tone and can see the walls start to slowly raise up at his refusal to talk. He's been blunt and shocking you at every turn and he's going to be shy about this? He shakes his head. "Just surprised myself by my gut reaction to that information." He tells you honestly. "I never really considered having a breeding kink before."

“You—?” Spinning on your heel, you had barely made it out of the kitchen and you’re facing him in the open archway in a flash. “That’s an interesting development.” Trying to keep your own surprise in check so he doesn’t feel self-conscious is a little bit of a task, but you do let yourself smile. “The thought of my birth control running out sounding good to you?”

“More than I ever thought possible.” He confesses, happy that you aren’t weirded out. “Doesn’t mean - I mean, I’m not insisting on discarding your prescription or whatever…but.” He gives a slightly self-conscious shrug, “Yeah.”

“I’m going to run out at the end of the month.” You step closer, feeling like this conversation is a little too intimate to be vaguely chatted about across a room. “If we’re here longer than two weeks…maybe we should talk about whether or not the condoms will even get used?” There’s nothing conventional or normal about the way your relationship has come together, so why should discussing the future be any different? You’ve both already said you want kids. This would just be an…unexpected way to get there.

Dave bites his lip, need and want warring inside him. “I-- I don’t want to start trying when you are still in danger. It will make me even more pissed off at this fucker.” He admits.

“That’s fair.” Placing a soft kiss on his lips, you nudge his nose with yours before pulling away. “Please don’t even feel like you can’t tell me things.”

“You are still a virgin. I can’t sit there and just expect you to be okay with the idea that I want to drag you to the bedroom, throw your legs up on my hips and plant my baby inside you.” He huffs.

“Yeah, I’m still a virgin.” But that sounds like a fucking amazing plan, to be totally honest. “But I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, honey. I’m not afraid of it or putting it off because I wasn’t ready. I’ve just been waiting for my soulmate to share my life with.”

He nods, the rational portion of his brain understand that. “Okay.” He says finally after a moment. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He murmurs, grinning slightly. “I tend to be a little much, but even I thought it might be too much.”

“If I’m overwhelmed, I’ll tell you.” You promise him. “But the fact that my soulmate wants to give me babies? Kind of a favorite fantasy, honestly.” It might not qualify as a breeding kink in so many words, but you’ve definitely dreamed about it more times than you can count.

“Good.” Dave is relieved but still shoots you a dirty look. “Then I won’t hide it.”

“Good.” You agree, pressing in to leave a kiss on his lips. “It’ll be much more fun.”

“Go dig out your tea to make and the backpack should have you a new computer.” He smirks. “Start plotting while I go outside to make sure you stay cozy.”

“Yes, daddy.” The grin and wink you throw him this time have an entirely new context with this surprising development of his, and you slip back out to the living room to start putting things away with a decided spring in your step.

Dave makes his way out to the wood pile and picks up the axe. He’s already got a good pile, but it’s supposed to be cold, and he’s already seen how much you like the fireplace crackling away. Knowing it will be soothing to you.

The clacking of keyboard keys lasts hours before you dig yourself out of your own brain long enough to check the clock on the wall. You’ve been through two mugs of tea and stoked the fire a few times, but Dave is still outside - and the ticking clock says he’s been out there two hours already. Setting the slim laptop down on the coffee table, you shuffle to the cabin’s backdoor and look out, only to be greeted with the delicious sight of Dave still chopping wood shirtless in the backyard. He’s all broad planes of strong muscle like this, itching every one of those caveman-like urges you get in seeing your soulmate provide for you. Quickly grabbing a bottle of cold water from the fridge, you slip outside and make sure to wait until he’s put the axe down to get his attention, just to be safe. “You look like I’m thirsty as hell,” you tease, offering him the water bottle as you get closer.

Dave huffs out a laugh, wiping his brow on his forehead and hefting the axe into the stump and reaching out to take the water bottle. “Thanks.” He pants, twisting the cap off and eagerly gulping down the water.

“You’ve been at it for hours.” You take the empty bottle back from him when he’s drained it and make a mental note to always bring two out whenever he does this from now on. “You wanna come inside and shower off and I’ll make us some sandwiches for lunch?”

Dave looks at the pile and gives a nod. “Yeah, I just want to stack this up and then I’ll come in. Have it inside the lean to in case the front they were talking about decides to come through.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad to get snowed in.” You muse, humming slightly at the idea. It’s incredibly romantic, in theory. “Nothing to do but snuggle up in front of the fire? Sounds nice.”

“I wouldn’t hate it.” Dave admits, smiling at the way your eyes go soft and dreamy. “Drag the mattress into the room in front of it. All the pillows and blankets.”

His smile makes yours grow wider, it is as infectious as a yawn. “It’s not like we’d be worried about losing cable or internet, either. I can read to you or keep you entertained whenever you want.”

“I think we can find plenty to keep us entertained. Don’t you?” He leers slightly.

“I can think of a few things.” More than a few, and his imagination is a damn good one, too, if this morning is any indication.

Dave works quickly, stacking up the wood inside the small shelter leaning against the back door of the cabin. Making the woodpile easily accessible in the event of a winter storm. Knowing that the two of you are isolated and if the weather gets bad, he's not going to want to leave you for too long. Bringing enough in to restock the basket next to the fireplace before he quits. "Now I'll go get that shower." He tells you, winking as he shuts and locks the door off the shelter.

“I’ll make lunch.” Tempted though you are to want to just sit on the bed and wait for him to be clean again to drag him between the sheets, you remind yourself that he just spent two hours chopping wood - and as much as that sounds like the perfect romance novel set up for fooling around - he’s probably very sore. The fresh groceries dropped off today included packs upon packs of lunch meat and several different bags of chips were piled up in a basket in the kitchen cupboards so you set to work making an easy but tasty meal for when Dave is all cleaned up. There was so lemonade powder somewhere…that would be perfect.

Dave runs a towel through his hair and settles on sweats and a shirt, knowing that he’s not going to do much today other than start teaching you weapon safety. Coming out and smiling at the simple lunch, thick sandwiches and chips with lemonade. “God that looks good.” He compliments.

“I’m glad you think so.” Bopping up from the table to give him a kiss, you settle down again with him beside you and pour your drinks. “The cabin life isn’t half bad so far.”

“At Dave’s Assassin’s Inc, you will find we strive to give our clients the most relaxing survival situations possible.” He jokes, reaching out and squeezing your hip as you huff.

“Probably not the best name for your security firm,” you mumble, taking a bite of your sandwich.

He rolls his eyes at you and picks up his own sandwich. “I know. I was just teasing.”

“So was I.” Your hand reaches out, stroking his arm lightly. “Have you thought about what your going to call it?”

“No clue.” He admits, taking a bite of his sandwich hungrily. “I’ve never been good with that kind of thing.” He tells you after he swallows the bite.

“Could be anything.” You’re hungrier than you realized, and you’re both going after your sandwiches like ravenous kids. “Something normal like York Securities or something a little more out there like…” you hum, thinking for a second. “Like Safety First.”

“Which one would you want?” He asks, curious to see what your answer would be. “Safety First sounds like those baby proofing products they have.”

“Did you guys have any jokes or any designations in the service?” You ask, completely willing to put some thought into this with him. “If it were me hiring you guys, I would really like the fact that it’s a Vet-run business. I’d probably pick you over someone else just for that.”

“Double tap for the win?” Dave asks. “A lot of service jokes aren’t exactly civilian friendly. We have a lot of dark humor.”

“Well, it’s something to think about.” In his line of work, you suppose he would have to have some darker humor in order to get through. “But I think you can’t go wrong with something like York Securities. It’s simple and shows that you have enough pride in what you’re doing to put your own name on it.”

“Yeah, but then there’s my name on something.” Dave shies away from that and hums. “Before we went black ops, we were Alpha team in our unit. Maybe Alpha Securities?”

“And your logo can be a stylized alpha symbol?” It’s easy to remember, won’t make him stare at his own name all the time, and definitely implies a dominance that can only work to their advantage. “I like it.”

“Plus they won’t get butthurt with my name on the door.” Dave scoffs, rolling his eyes about Kovac.

“I’ll still be proud to be the boss’s soulmate. Even without your name everywhere.” That is undeniable, and you can bet already that everything you walk into the building you’ll be beaming with pride.

“Office nooners.” Dave grins wolfishly. He could see you come in with lunch and leaving positively fucked out before he goes back to work.

“Whenever you want.” The thought makes you grin and squeeze your thighs together a little under the table. “Your lunch break can be a very well-rounded meal if you want.”

“Undoubtedly.” Dave hums, picking up his lemonade and taking a sip. “How was your writing between licking the windows?” He teases playfully, fully aware you had been engrossed on your laptop.

“The visual of you chopping wood shirtless will live in my brain rent-free for a very long time.” You promise him after another bite of your sandwich. “I have a very loose outline and I named the main characters, and that’s a lot for just a few hours. I normally take ages to name characters.”

“That’s good.” Dave nods in approval, wanting to take an interest in your interests. While there is no way he could be creative enough to write stories or books, but he wants to support you. “A good outline is the basis for any plan.”

“The love scenes are always a little…freelance.” You admit, flustering behind your lemonade glass. “I don’t really know what they’re going to like until I get to know them.” The slight embarrassment in your expression morphs into a grin. “Like he might have a surprise breeding kink. You never know until you get there.”

He huffs, pursing his lips and glowering at you, but it’s all bluster. “Sorry.” He sarcastically tosses out, just to rile you up. “I’ll keep my thoughts and my sperm to myself then.” He winks just to make sure you know that he is playing.

“Hey, my whole ‘daddy’ thing was as much a surprise to be as it was to you.” One hand reaches for his, squeezing a few of his fingers gently. “Sometimes you don’t know until it’s right there in front of you.”

“I know. I’m just teasing. It’s just with you. So you should feel pretty fucking smug about it.” He squeezes your fingers back and takes the last bite of his sandwich.

You can’t help but smile a little more, tucking it up in the corner of your mouth like a smirk. “I might be less smug when the heartburn is keeping me up at night and I can’t see my feet anymore, but I’m still taking it as a compliment.”

Dave gulps down the rest of the lemonade and smiles at you. “I am going to start bringing out a couple of the weapons I want you to learn.” He tells you, knowing you aren’t going to like it, but he doesn’t want you to assume the worst when he does.

“Okay. I’ll clean up here.” It’s nerve-wracking, to say the least, but you did ask him to teach you. And you meant it when you asked him to teach you. “Bring out whatever I should learn first.”

Dave heads down to the basement and goes over to the gun rack you had either ignored or didn’t notice last night and picks up a handgun that would be easy for you to handle and a rifle.

“Just the basics, right?” You’re nervous when he comes back upstairs, but justifiably so. Having cleaned up all the remnants of your meal and your writing spree, the main room of the cabin is empty except for furniture because you have no idea how much space any of this will even require.

“The first thing is weapons safety.” Dave tells you serious. “Rule one - treat every weapon you come across as if it is loaded. Not doing that, even as an experienced firearms handler, accounts for the majority of accidental deaths.” He explains. “Doesn’t matter if I tell you the gun is clear. Until you clear it yourself, it’s loaded. Got it?”

“Got it.” You can’t imagine ever being blasé about a gun, but familiarity does tend to breed complacency, you suppose.

Dave sets the rifle down on the table, muzzle pointed towards the door and holds up the handgun. “This is your basic pistol.” He teaches you. Putting his thumb on a button on the handle he pushes it, making the magazine spring out about an inch from bottom. “This button ejects the magazine, pull that out and then you pull back the slide to make sure there isn’t a round in the chamber.” He shows you that there was one and pops it out into his hand and locks the slide back so it is open and you can see into the weapon. “This is now cleared, you can see there is no bullet in it.”

“Okay.” The way your heart is hammering isn’t pleasant, but this is possibly the most important thing to learn if you’re going to have guns in the house in the future so you remind yourself to focus. “Okay. Got it.”

Dave knows you are uneasy but he also knows that it could be life or death. “Rule two - never point a weapon at something, anything, you are not willing to kill.”

“Makes sense.” Which basically means you’ll be pointing it at nothing but inanimate targets, but again, that’s okay.

Dave smiles at you patiently. “Rule three - keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire. That shit in movies where they are leaning on the trigger all the time? Horseshit amateur bullshit.” He releases the slide and cups the bottom of the grip and shows you how he rests his finger along the weapon. “Like this, baby.”

“Every weapon is loaded until you clear it yourself. Never point at something you’re not willing to k-kill.” You hate yourself for the momentary stammer but it’s not a word you’ll ever get used to saying with seriousness. “And keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire.”

“Good girl.” He praises you, knowing you are so far out of your comfort zone you might as well be on the moon. “Rule four - be aware of your target and what is behind them.” He murmurs softly. “You don’t want to shoot someone and take out someone innocent because they are in the wrong spot.”

“Right.” Collateral damage is a plot line in so many stories and it’s almost what you were - albeit in a different way. You can’t even imagine being responsible for that kind of loss in real life. “Keep going, I know there’s more.”

“There are but those are the main four.” He tells you. “That’s what I had drilled into my head before I was allowed to touch a weapon.”

It’s all a tiny bit overwhelming, but you know that actually putting your hands on one of these pieces is going to give you anxiety for days, so you swallow it and nod again. “The very basic of the basics. Got it.”

“Most of the weight comes from the bullets. Here, feel how light the gun is empty.” He slides an empty magazine into the gun and turns it around to hand it to you by the muzzle, pointed at the floor.

It’s okay. It’s empty. It’s totally safe. You tell yourself on repeat as you carefully wrap your fingers around the cold metal. It’s extremely light, compared to how heavy it looks before you touch it, but you hand it back quickly. “It’s definitely light,” you agree, knowing he can see how anxious even that made you. You’re going to have to get over it, you know that.

“Do you want to stop?” He doesn’t want you having a panic attack over a weapons safety class. Not when you’ve already been through enough for most people in the past week.

“Am I the weakest person in the world if I say yes?” The last thing you want is for him to think less of you, but having an actual real-life handgun in your hand with a rifle out in front of you is giving you flashbacks to last night. “It’s just…it’s a lot…”

“No.” He’s adamant that things happen at your pace, you are not a soldier and shouldn’t be treated like one. “We can be done for now.” He reaches over and carefully takes the weapon from you.

“I’m sorry.” Though you genuinely feel like you could curl into yourself and evaporate, all you do is wipe your hands thoroughly on your new jeans and stifle a sniffle. “I’ll get over feeling weird about it, I promise.”

“Don’t apologize.” Dave sets the gun down on the table and steps over to you, wrapping you up in his arms. “Never apologize to me about something like this. In a perfect world, you would never have to hold one, baby.”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” you admit, face buried in his chest for comfort. The fact that this is even on your radar is still unbelievable to you and right now it’s just too much.

“You aren’t going to disappoint me.” Dave tuts, rubbing your back soothingly. “You don’t have to worry about that. Baby, I don’t want you to ever have to actually use one beyond target practice.”

“I don’t either.” That’s probably abundantly obvious and you sniffle when you mean to huff at yourself. “It’s just a lot all at once, I think…making me think about last night and…” This time the sniffle is very real, and you can’t stifle it. “And all I can think about is if you had leaned in to me for that kiss instead of pulling me to you, they would have gotten both of us.”

He sighs softly, tightening his hold on you. “That didn’t happen baby.” He reminds you. “We are right here. Together. And we are going to stay that way.” He murmurs, wishing he knew how to make you relax. “Let me out them away and we can pretend they don’t exist for a bit, okay?”

“Okay.” Nodding meekly against his chest is the best You can manage right now, and you swear to yourself that you’ll figure out a way to make it up to him even though he says you don’t have to. Even if it’s just an extra nice dinner and head, he still deserves it.

Dave presses his lips to the top of your head and pulls away after another few seconds. “How does a nap sound?” He suggests. “We don’t have anything else that needs doing right now.”

“That sounds good.” Just being next to him - with him, in the safety of his arms - sounds like the only actual place where you’ll find any peace right now. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom?”

“That sounds good, baby.” He nods and turns you around and pats you on the butt before he picks up the weapons again.

There is a suspicious lack of pajamas in the clothes that his teammates brought for you, with the only things coming close being a few t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, and you swap out the sweater you put on earlier for a t-shirt and shuck your jeans in favor of the sweats before crawling under the covers.

Dave checks the doors and locks again, habit even though he knows everything is good. Coming back into the bedroom and smiling when he sees you already tucked in. “Comfortable?” He asks, starting to pull of the sweats and t-shirt. He hates sleeping in clothes when he doesn’t have to.

“Your boys intentionally didn’t pack any pajamas for me,” you tell him with amusement. “I think they’re trying to give you an edge.”

Dave smirks and slides under the covers. “They are good men.”

“They want you to be happy.” If there’s one thing you know about them, especially after talking to them today, it’s how much they care about Dave.

“Just like we will all help Resnick, when his ugly ass finds his soulmate.” Dave chuckles, moving closer to you and giving you an amused look when he feels your sweats.

“It’s the closest thing to pjs that was on the bag,” you defend, doing him your best doe eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I just expected you to be intimate somehow every time we got into a bed together…”

“Baby, just being in bed with you is intimate.” He huffs. “If I was sharing a bed with Ari I damn sure wouldn’t be eager to cuddle unless the temperature was a hell of a lot colder in here.”

“Not your type?” A teasing grin tucks itself into the corner of your mouth.

“Definitely not.” Dave’s grin is accompanied by a slight wrinkle of his nose. “Man hogs the covers.”

“I’d rather hog your body heat than the covers.” You vow, snuggling up to his side immediately. It may only be two nights that you’ve slept beside him but it already feels like the exact place you’re meant to be. “Much more fun for keeping warm.”

“Much more fun.” He agrees, hand under you immediately moving up under your shirt to caress your back. “Bra?” He frowns, feeling the band. “Why the hell are you still wearing it?”

“New ones need breaking in. Like shoes.” It’s an annoying truth and you shrug slightly. “But you can undo it, it’s fine.”

He quickly hooks his finger under the four hook and eye clasps and undoes them. “Let the titties breathe during nap time.” He teases.

“Next thing you’re going to be telling me is that the pussy should breath during nap time, too,” you joke, wiggling a little to get your arms out of the loose bra straps so you can toss it aside.

“I - you know…I’m sure that has to be backed by science.” He chuckles and sighs contentedly when you lean against him again.

“You’re sure, huh?” A dramatic little sigh and a playful roll of your eyes have him laughing again as you shimmy out of your sweatpants and panties. “Well, I wouldn’t want to go against science.”

“I love science.” He breathes out, reaching for a handful of your ass the second you have it available. “Best fucking thing ever.”

“Oh yeah?” It actually is a little chilly in only a t-shirt, and you cozy up to Dave’s side as tightly as you can under the blanket. “I’m glad you think so.”

He just hums, feeling you shiver and he tangles his legs with yours. Leaning back against the pillows and relaxing. “You’re welcome to throw a leg over me.”

“I thought we were gonna nap?” You tease, slipping just your calf over his so you don’t put too much weight on him but still get a little more warmth.

“We are going to nap.” Dave huffs, reaching down and pulling your leg up more. “But I want my girl to be warm and comfortable.”

Huffing at him slightly, you wind your arm around his waist and let your head lie comfortably on his shoulder. With him in absolutely nothing and you in just a t-shirt, warm skin connected with chilled skin easily and quickly enough that you’re always significantly warmer than you were a few minutes ago. “I love you, too,” you mumble sheepishly, a little too embarrassed to admit that yes - this is much better.

“I know you do.” Dave’s eyes are closed and there is a smile on his face. Fingers stroking up and down your leg, just needing to touch you and his hand on your back just splays across your skin like a warm anchor to keep you against him.

“Get some sleep, baby.” Like clockwork, the sentence ends in a yawn and you hug him tight. “Neither one of us slept well last night.”

“Sleep well, beautiful.” Dave murmurs softly, relaxing and dozing off quickly for the lack of sleep and hours of hard labor.

 ______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog​ 

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My Masterlist!

[noteguk]

devilish | kth | m

— summary; in which Taehyung has a bit too much fun toying with your limits. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, Taehyung x reader, established relationship, edging, guided masturbation, dirty talk, corruption kink, sliiiight dumbification, dom!tae, mentions of past virginity loss, mentions of blowjobs, mirror, begging, orgasm control, praise kink, use of the word “slut”, cockwarming, unprotected sex 

— words; 2,4k

— author’s note; this request has been sitting in my askbox since forever because I was stuck with the last version of it. Eventually I deleted that document and completely changed the plot (or lack thereof), and now here we are. I really like corruption kink so :) this was a nice ride 

Requested by anon! 

Taehyung was almost convinced that you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Granted, he was biased. He had been dating you for some time now, but, in his defense, he was positive that the wind had been knocked out of him (how cliche) the first time he had laid eyes on you. And it all went downhill from there. Taehyung became a bit more crazy about you every time he saw you, paid a bit more attention to the small details that he might have missed before — the way you played with your hair, the shy tug of your lips every time he made a flirtatious remark, the fluttering of your eyelashes when you leaned away after a kiss. It was all beautiful, perfect, created by angels just for him. And he loved every second of it. 

It was just a matter of time before his little obsession leaked into the bedroom and Taehyung didn’t hesitate to make good use of it. Even if you were a bit embarrassed by it, always so shy, Taehyung liked to watch you play with yourself as he told you what to do: where to touch, how to move, when to stop. And you were always so good for him — following his orders eagerly, giving him more every time he asked you to. 

You were so, so perfect that he thought he was dreaming. He couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend. 

“That’s it, baby, take it slow,” his husky voice sounded next to your ear, one of his hands caressing your hair gently. You had your back pressed against his chest, sitting between his legs, with your own thighs open and pushed up to the level of your breasts. He could see everything like that. “So pretty. You’re always so pretty for me.” 

Taehyung had his eyes zeroed in the reflection before you two, the large rectangular mirror presenting him with the glorious view of your flushed heat. He followed, mesmerized, as you circled your clit with two of your fingers, whining beautifully at your growing pleasure, back arching and eyes closing. 

Taehyung was used to your body, how it reacted; he knew the telltale signs that your orgasm was getting closer. And that was the dangerous part. “Shhh, you’re almost there, baby,” he mumbled, the venom in his tone telling you that he would do it again — ask you to stop just as you were about to cum, making you cry and whine until he allowed you to start over. But then your pleasure was almost gone, and you had to build it back up from zero. “Look at you, you’re so desperate. You like playing with your little pussy?” 

You nodded, a frail moan leaving your mouth. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, begging to be filled up. 

“You do? That’s so dirty,” he teased. Taehyung’s hands were resting on either side of his body now, supporting his weight. No matter how much you wanted him to touch you, you knew that he wouldn’t. He found much more satisfaction watching you do it. “Is that pussy wet for me, baby? Does it want to cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you implored, overwhelmed. Taehyung had made you edge yourself five times already, it had been going on for too long, and you didn’t think you could stop it again. You would try, though, of course you would, but you were afraid that your body wouldn’t respond in time. “I want to cum, Tae, please.” 

He hummed, placing a wet kiss against the nape of your neck. Taehyung was breathing heavy, fighting against every cell of his body so he wouldn’t bend you over and fuck you full of his cock. He also had his needs, but his objective was to teach you some discipline. He needed you to need him. 

“One more time for me, baby,” he said. His cock was unbearably hard inside his pants, leaking into his underwear as he heard the beautiful sounds of your soaked pussy. He was going insane thinking about how well it would wrap around him, how gorgeous you looked when you were full of his cock. “Stop it one more time.” 

You almost cried out at his words. “N-No, I can’t,” you whined. You could feel your orgasm just about to overflow, your thighs shaking as you continued to rub your clit. “I can’t do one more.” 

“Shhh, you can,” he calmed you down. Another kiss against your neck and you swore you were about to die. “Stop now.” 

And you actually stopped, because you were such a sweet, obedient girl for him. Taehyung watched as your chest heaved, your eyes closing as you pulled your hand away from your pussy, a shaky moan of frustration leaving your lips as you let your orgasm slip away for the sixth time that afternoon. He felt his cock throb in his pants when he saw how soaked and puffy your cunt was for him, caught himself groaning out in hunger. 

“That’s such an obedient slut,” he complimented, his voice a hoarse vibration against your shoulder. Taehyung knew you were on your limit, and he loved that, still, you followed what he told you to do. “You used to be such a good girl, baby, now look at you: edging that little pussy of yours, begging me to let you cum. That makes me so fucking hard.” 

You could only whine, because your limbs had turned to jello and you didn’t think you could find your voice quick enough. Your own reflection stared back at you in the mirror — your skirt pulled up and panties brushed to the side, your heat dripping against the bed, making a mess that you were sure Taehyung would tease you about later. You didn’t know what had happened to you, it seemed as if your life had completely turned around ever since he had walked right into it. 

And, as if he was reading your mind, Taehyung continued talking as your pleasure melted away. 

“When I met you, you couldn’t even kiss me without getting shy,” he started, one of his hands leaving the bed and resting on your waist. Your body shivered at the warm contact, sensitive. “You were this timid little virgin, you hadn’t even touched yourself yet, baby. You didn’t even know how to.” Another kiss against your neck had you shuddering, hoping for more. “And now you are soaking all over my sheets like a good slut. You learned how to take my cock so well, didn’t you? I taught you well.” 

You nodded, brain flooded with images from your past. Taehyung had always been drawn to your innocence, found his delight watching you discover your pleasure for the first time — rather, he loved teaching you, breaking that inexperience apart until he had you whimpering for more, embarrassed and needy, grinding your pussy against him just to feel something. He had turned you into a desperate little thing, an obedient girl that could cum just by playing with your tits, or that would start crying when it became too much — and still would ask him to keep going. 

You were a giver: you liked to provide Taehyung with whatever it was that he asked you to, loved to be showered with his praises every time you made him cum. You liked to play up your innocence just to see how he reacted, weaponized your apparent cluelessness because you knew that he loved to show you how to do things. It was a perfect game that you two played, and it always ended up just like both of you wanted to. 

Taehyung’s hand slithered up your stomach and groped your covered breast, pulling you out of your reveries. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, a shot of pleasure going straight to your core as his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple. 

“Taehyung, please,” you begged once again, your voice a pathetic little thing, “let me cum.” 

“My baby wants to play with her pussy again?” He asked, his voice an octave lower. You nodded. “Hm? Want to make that tight little cunt cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you were losing your mind, droplets of sweat running between your breasts. The bedroom was so hot, you felt like you couldn’t even breathe. “I need it so bad.”

He chuckled devilishly against your skin, his thumb grazing your nipple. “Alright, baby, you’ve been good,” Taehyung finally gave in, making you breathe out in relief. “But sit on my cock first.” 

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your pussy clenching in anticipation. “What?”

“You heard what I said, baby.” He removed his hand from your tit and used it to unzip his pants. The sound was harsh and loud, shooting straight to your dripping core. “Come on, I’m not very patient.” 

Taehyung was patient, though, that was how he managed to edge you so many times without losing his cool. But you bought his act and moved forward so he could fumble with his pants, your eyes following his movements on the mirror as he pulled his cock free. 

You sighed at the sight, your mouth watering with the thought of licking his cock clean. He was so hard and heavy, leaking all over himself, and if you weren’t so desperate to have him inside you, you would’ve turned around and sucked him like he had teached you, until you were crying and he was cumming down your throat. 

“Don’t ride it. Just keep it in.” Taehyung shattered your dreams just as fast as he had built them, a frown covering your features as he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. “Keep my cock warm as you touch yourself, baby. Make a mess on it and I’ll think about fucking you, alright?” 

Taehyung always had wonderful arguments, because that had you agreeing within a second. You struggled to place yourself over him, lining his tip with your entrance and, just as you were about to sink down, he stopped you. 

“No, baby.” Taehyung placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head towards the mirror. “Want you to watch too.” 

“I’ll watch,” you guaranteed, earning a soft smile in return. 

You sat down on his member with ease, thankful for how absolutely soaked you were. Ever since Taehyung had taken your virginity, you realized that you would never get enough of that feeling — of his length stretching you wide open, hitting every spot and throbbing inside you. Back when you had your first time, you had been so flustered that you couldn’t even watch when Taehyung entered you and, now, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your reflection, your hand clenching the hem of your skirt so it didn’t cover the view. 

Behind you, Taehyung moaned out at the sensation, his eyes closing. “That’s it, baby, fuck.” He breathed out. “This pussy was made for me.” 

And you felt the same, felt like the two of you were made to be together like that, a perfect match for one another. 

Before you could react, his hands were back on your body, playing with your tits as you squirmed under his touches. The movement of your hips against him was automatic, filling the room with the sounds of your wetness and a beautiful whimper coming from your throat. “T-Tae, I’m…” 

“Sit still,” he commanded, ignoring your shy requests for forgiveness. You managed to stop your body from moving, instead focusing on how perfectly he was buried inside you, his pelvis glued against your ass. “Didn’t you want to cum? So, go ahead. Play with your clit, baby.” 

Another moan left you as he pushed your breasts together. “But I want to—“ 

“No, no. You already asked for what you wanted,” he interrupted. Taehyung’s eyes were hooded and dark, looking at you from the reflection like they were daring you to disobey him. “Play with your pussy for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. That’s all you’re gonna get for now.” 

You agreed with a frail movement of your head, your fingers moving back to your sensitive nub. You coated them in your juices before pressing down on your clit, crying out in sensitivity as you started to rub yourself again. This time, with the feeling of Taehyung’s cock inside you, it was much easier to find where you had left off, your walls clenching dangerously tight around him as you searched for your high. 

Taehyung continued to watch you, his gaze burning your body. He was biased, yes, but you were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes upon. And he wasn’t ignoring the way you were moaning out his name, your perfect cunt clenching around his cock, the sweet smell of your perfume infiltrating his nose. All of you was perfect, handmade for him, and he was going insane knowing that you were all his. 

“Gonna cum,” you warned, looking at him through parted lids. Taehyung, of course, knew that already. He knew your body better than yourself. “Can I cum?” 

Taehyung smiled — you were so cute. He had already allowed you to and, yet, there you were, making sure his desires hadn’t changed. Even though you were about to break, you still needed his permission. “Of course, baby,” he said. “You’ve been so patient. So perfect for me. You can cum whenever you want.” 

He could not even blink when you finally tipped over the edge, your pussy gushing down on his cock and pulsating around it as you finally — finally! — found your high. Taehyung knew all those small mannerisms already — the opening of your lips, the rolling of your eyes, the high pitch of your voice — but he couldn’t help but feel like he was experiencing them for the very first time. 

And as you came down from your moment of euphoria, your thighs jittery from overstimulation, Taehyung had erased every single doubt from his mind: you were, undoubtedly, the most precious, beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

[lubdubsworld]

GIFT .

Genre : Brother-in-law Jungkook x OC!

Warnings : Yandere Jungkook! Non Consent. Manipulative behaviour. Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Murder

Author's Note : I love reading Yandere fics so I just wanted to write one!! Its very different from what I usually write... So proceed with caution.

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

The first time I met Jungkook , it was five years into my relationship with Namjoon.

Namjoon had told me all about his baby brother, a final year student in SNU. Jungkook majored in Business , training to take over the company business . Namjoon often mentioned that it was Jungkook's offer to switch majors that had helped him pursue his own dream of being a music producer.

So when he told me that Jungkook was on a break from university and his parents were looking forward to having a proper family dinner with all of us, I was excited to meet the boy , I'd heard so much about. Namjoon was endlessly fond of his little brother and I wanted him to like me just as much.

Namjoon and I had met seven years earlier in the University Library and had become fast friends. We were both quiet, intellectually driven individuals, preferring to spend our time in the library as opposed to partying with our friends. And yet, in a twist , against our family’s wishes, we had chosen not to pursue an academically driven career either. I’d always felt out of place in my own friend group, most of my friend from Journalism being extroverted and fun loving. Namjoon for his part had only two very close friends, Yoongi and Hoseok and preferred spending time by himself as well.

So it was only natural that we fell in with each other with ease. His beautiful dimpled smile tugged on my gut, even as his gentle nature and gorgeous mind made my heart pound. I fell in love with him, between the late night laughter in the library and the soft secrets whispered against my skin, in the privacy of his bed.

“Nervous?” His voice drew me to the present, fingers inking with mine as he lightly knocked his shoulders against mine, staring down at me with a dimpled smile. I shook my head quickly, squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course not. I just want him to like me.” I whispered and Namjoon chuckled.

“Jungkookie isn’t very expressive so don’t worry if he isn’t very vocal in his affections. He’s very shy with new people but I’m sure, he’ll love you.” Namjoon reached out and lightly, brushed the hair off my face before leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

I gripped his waist, pressing in closer, lips parting instinctively  , eager to chase the taste of him. He groaned and gripped my elbow, pulling me around to press up against the tall , lean strength of his body and this was it, this endless need to touch him even after seven whole years of being together. I moaned when he bit down on my lips, my back arching a bit to press into him.

“Hyung?”

We parted, surprised and I felt my face flame, lips slicked wet and no doubt red from where Joon’s teeth had sunk in.

What a first impression.

“Ahh… Jungkook-ah… You came out?” Namjoon looked a little flustered, dimples peeking out in an abashed smile as he laughed embarrassedly I found myself smiling at Jungkook, who looked nothing like I’d imagined.

I’d been expecting someone cute and friendly.

Jungkook was dressed in all black, tall and intimidating. He was also almost surreally beautiful, gaze piercing and steady as he stared at me. I felt an instinctive urge to hide, not missing the way his gaze trailed up and down my body, lips parting gently to reveal a pair of bunny teeth that looked jarringly adorable on a face that was , quite simply put, arrestingly gorgeous.  

He hummed, still standing in the doorway, eyes trained on me and I swallowed when he smiled , wide and open. His tongue darted out, lightly licking his lower lip .

“Hi, Hana.” He said softly and I startled.

“Hana? I’m sure you mean noona…..” I laughed nervously and even Namjoon looked surprised and Jungkook merely smiled, shrugging.

“You don’t feel like a noona.” He said casually.

I merely stared at him, not sure what he meant. Namjoon laughed a little as well, moving over to lightly hug his brother.

“Yah! You’ve just met her. Isn’t it too soon to start being a brat?” He ruffled his hair playfully before turning to me.

“Come on, Hana. Come say hi to my parents.” Namjoon walked in and I rushed to follow him, pausing when I reached the doorway. I smiled at Jungkook, holding a hand out slowly.

“I’ve heard so much about you Jungkook, I hope we can be friends…” I said sincerely and he stared at my hand, not taking it. Instead he gave me another soft smile. Before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, making me jump .

“You don’t feel like a friend either.” He said with a shrug , before moving away, leaving me stunned on the doorway.

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

Two years later :

“Seven months? Namjoon we’re getting married in seven months! How am I supposed to plan a whole wedding , with you away from the country?” I asked desperately, watching as Namjoon sat with his head in his hands. He looked stricken, regretful and pained and I felt terrible for being unreasonable but it was impossible not to feel hurt.

“I know..  I know hana, I’m so fucking sorry. But this is such a huge opportunity and its not just me : Hoseok and Yoongi depend on me. I can’t screw things up for them too.” He whispered and I exhaled.

Namjoon had been offered a chance to produce for a very high end recording label based out of the US and they wanted him to stay there for a minimum of seven months. The offer had been a complete surprise, out of the blue and the timing couldn’t have been worse. I’d been accepted into an internship at a popular magazine and it would be impossible for me to go with him. And I was so desperate to go.

We’d never been apart for more than a few days, in the entirety of our relationship and the thought of not seeing him for months made me want to throw up.

“I’ve spoken to Jungkook. He’ll help you with all the things that have to be done. And I swear that I’ll be back at least a month before the date, alright? No matter what happens.” Namjoon said firmly. I swallowed, nodding nervously.

It was true that I didn’t like the idea of being away from Namjoon. But the thought of keeping him away from a dream that he had worked so hard for, was almost unfathomable.

Besides, Jungkook was reliable and sweet. The perfect gentleman. Especially now that he’d taken over as his father’s Executive Assistant, Jungkook was incredibly good at organizing and planning things out.

With his help, I could plan out our wedding to perfection.

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

The next five months were spent in a haze of appointments and fittings and bookings. Jungkook had arranged for a shift in my internship hours, so he and I could spend a solid four hours every day, visiting different vendors, picking out the perfect floral arrangements, napkins, brocade and what not. And for once, I found myself completely enthralled by the idea of spending money of frivolously pretty things. Whether it was the florists or the patisserie, the dress fitting or the invitations, I felt my excitement bubbling over , amazed because marrying into Namjoon’s family meant an unlimited budget and for once, I didn’t mind being extravagant.

What was more, I didn’t miss Namjoon nearly as much as I thought I would. Because deep down , I knew that he wouldn’t have enjoyed this all that much. And I would have felt guilty , dragging him everywhere.

And Jungkook was the one to thank for all of it. He picked me up everyday for an early breakfast , followed by hours of combing the streets for ideas and appointments. He was funny and enthusiastic, eager to help me in every way and I was so grateful that I couldn’t thank him enough.

“I owe you so much, Kookie. You’ve been a life saver.” I groaned, collapsing on the couch and dropping my head back against the backrest. Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on one of the Turkish ottomans and lightly grabbing my ankle, pulling my foot onto his lap. I flushed a little, still not used to how touchy he was.

Jungkook liked wrapping his arms around my waist when we were out and about, fingers fluttering up my sides or brushing hair off my face with easy familiarity. I didn’t mind. He reminded me of my little brother back in Ilsan.

Most of the people we met assumed he was the groom and Jungkook told me it would be better to keep up the ruse because wedding planners were more comfortable when couples came together and I’d agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. I missed Namjoon and I wondered if he would mind. But when I mentioned it in passing to him during one of our daily video calls, he’d merely laughed it off.

“You’re so tense, Hana. You should relax. Everything is going to be okay.” Jungkook said softly, soft fingers digging into the curve of heel before brushing the arch of my foot. I smiled when he tugged my foot close, placing it down on the firmness of his thigh.

I gazed down at him, feeling uncomfortably nervous. This whole thing seemed oddly intimate somehow and I felt the first tendrils of guilt begin to curl around my gut. I swallowed, hating myself for tainting something that was no doubt innocent. I ought to be grateful that my future brother in law was this kind to me.

“I know. Thank you. I just miss him sometimes.” I said softly. The fingers stilled on my foot.

“Only sometimes?” He teased, eyes narrowed and tone just a little colder and I hesitated.

“I don’t miss him when you keep me company. You help me forget that I’m doing all of this by myself.” I said honestly. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking to mine, holding mine with an intensity that made me balk a little.

“You mean, that?” He asked quietly and I laughed at how serious he looked.

“Of course I do.  I was so sure this whole thing would be me being miserably lonely but you’ve kept me laughing and happy. I’m going to ask Namjoon to buy you something expensive and amazing when he comes back.”

“He already has something amazing. It’s the only thing I really want.” Jungkook said quietly, fingers stroking up, gently massaging my foot all the way up my calf. I groaned at how good it felt.

“Really what is it?” I asked curious.

Jungkook squeezed my knee before carefully placing my foot down , reaching for the other one.

“You’ll know soon, Hana.”

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

True to his word, Namjoon called me exactly a month before our wedding date.

“Guess who’s leaving the God forsaken place this weekend?”

I felt warmth flood my insides, heart racing with pure joy, tears brimming over because I’d honestly resigned myself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it back on time.

“Monday i, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to kiss you, my love.” He whispered and I nodded, laughing.

Finally, Everything would be okay.

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

Namjoon’s flight was due to arrive late night ,somewhere between twelve and one in the morning. I’d taken a nap in the afternoon, so I could be up to welcome him back. Jungkook arrived at around seven with Takeout and flowers.

He didn’t ring the doorbell, letting himself in with the spare key I’d given him for emergencies. I found myself scrambling for my robe because I’d taken a nice long shower and slipped on a silk negligee, short and ending just over my knees . I could feel his eyes on me as I hastily tied the sash together, flustered. The robe wasn’t long either and I felt absolutely exposed, even worse than when he’d stepped into the dressing room during my fitting, offering to help me with the zipper.

“ Jungkook, what are you doing here?” I asked nervously and he shrugged, eyes still trailing over my legs, the skin bare. I felt his gaze like a caress and some instinct told me I was in danger. I shook my head to clear it. How ridiculous.

This was Jungkook. Sweet, wonderful Jungkookie. My best friend these past few months. There was no one else I could be safer with.

“I knew you’d be excited, what with hyung coming back and all. So, I thought I’d drop by and at least make sure you’re well fed.” He grinned, holding the tae out up. I smiled and nodded, moving to get plates and glasses from the kitchen.

I heard Jungkook moving around in the living room and when I went back in , I found that he had two glasses of wine ready on the table, an expensive bottle of merlot opened nearby. I smiled a bit, shaking my head.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked curiously and he shrugged.

“Namjoon hyung is coming back right? It means I’ll be getting my amazing gift tonight.” He said softly, picking his glass up and taking a sip and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re such a child. You can’t wait for a day to get your gift?”

Jungkook hummed. He looked ethereal in the dim golden light of the apartment. Like something out of a fairytale. All dark ebony hair and porcelain skin. I wondered, again….why he never dated. He was easily one of the most beautiful humans I’d ever seen in my life. And that voice.

The voice of an angel.

“I’ve been waiting for years, Hana. I’m sick and tired of waiting.” He said softly, voice low and eyes somehow dark and I tried to hold my smile.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” I grinned and he smiled, all teeth.

“Oh, I intend to. Thoroughly.”

I took my own glass and took a deep sip , before holding it against his.

“To no longer waiting and finally getting what we want.” I said cheerfully, thinking of the long months without Namjoon and the few hours till he would be back in my arms. Jungkook chuckled and clinked his glass against mine.

“To you, Hana.” He said simply and I blushed, surprised and flattered.

We ate the take out but just a few bites in, I felt my eyes getting heavy which was so unfair. It was barely eight. And I’d slept in the afternoon. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be up till Namjoon came home.

“You alright, love?” Jungkook asked sweetly , getting out of his chair and making his way over when I almost knocked the glass of water over, fingers trembling. I pouted, even as his fingers curled over my shoulders, gripping lightly.

“Why am I so drowsy?” I whined in desperation and he leaned down, lightly resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You need to rest, hana. Come on, let’s get you to bed…. “

Eyes heavy and limbs turning to jelly, I could barely blink as he reached down and scooped me into his arms , carrying me into the bedroom. I felt his fingers tug on the sash of my robe, a protest building up at the action but he shushed me gently.

“I’m just helping you out of this, Hana. Rest now… Namjoon hyung will be here soon and we have a long night ahead of us, you and I.”

I could feel my mind churn at that, confusion warring with apprehension because why was Jungkook inserting himself in tonight? What did he have to do with Namjoon and I ?

Sleep beckoned and I found myself slipping into the darkness before I could fully ponder on his words.

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

I woke up sweaty and damp , body overheated and my head foggy. I made to move and felt my heart pound when I realized my hands were tied up to the headboard. I blinked, only to be met with darkness because there was something tied around my eye as well.

“Jungkook?!” I called out panicking and there was a low chuckle.

And then a very familiar scent.

Namjoon.

I sagged in relief.

“Joon…it’s you….” I breathed out . “ Come on, do we really have to do this right away? I wanna see you…” I whispered desperately.

Fingers brushed over my ankle and I jumped.

“Namjoon?” I whispered . The bed dipped next to me, and I felt the brush of his shirt against my bare arm. It was soft and silky , familiar because I’d bought it for him for his birthday and he’d sent me a pic of him wearing it, from the airport today.

“Okay… I’ll play.” I laughed softly. “ Just untie me… I wanna touch you..”

“Sshhh…..” A finger pressed against my lip and I startled. Throat dry, I gulped.

But I didn’t say anything, biting my lips nervously as I felt him climb over me, one knee on either side of mine, fingers curling on my thighs, lips pressing against my cheek. I sighed, relishing the soft press of his lips, up and down my neck, the damp wetness of his tongue as he licked the skin right after, teeth nipping gently and then with more force.

I trembled as soft fingers tugged on my negligee tugging the fabric up and away from my body, raising it up till it pooled near my chest. I felt the tug on my panties, yanking the fabric off and then the weight of him went away, a breathy exhale that sounded both calm and somehow desperate, his body moving down to lightly hold my knees, parting my legs.

I bent my knees, spreading my thighs the way he clearly wanted me to, hearing him groan in return. He used his thumbs to gently part the damp folds of my centre and I felt my entire body shudder at the press of his tongues against the most intimate parts of me.

Choking, I could only lay there and take it, his tongue licking the slick folds, over and over again with an almost curious insistence, like he was tasting me for the first time and I could feel his body trembling on the bed as he did. I felt his teeth tug on the hardened nub, bruising hard and yet somehow almost playful and cheeky and I found myself squirming in pleasure, wetness seeping out of me .

The tip of his finger found my slit, running up and done the length of it in a slow, gentle caress, gathering the moisture there and I trembled when he reached my clit, gently rubbing circles on the little bundle before moving back down to trace my entrance. I was so wet, getting wetter by the second and I’d never wanted to be fucked so bad.

“Please…..baby… I want you ….in me…” I choked out and he chuckled, a little mischievous and unlike him.

The finger dipped in, shallow and barely in and I whimpered in desperation.

“More.. Please…. I want more.. Want you… Its been so long…”

I felt him move back at that and then he was there, right between my legs. I felt the clink of metal as he unbuckled himself, the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric as he pushed his trousers off. I could feel the hard muscles of his thigh against the back of mine as he scooted closer, felt the brush of his hard length against my center, the head dipping in just lightly.

He pushed forward, driving in with so much force that my entire body shuddered in shock. And in just that second, I knew, with dawning horror…….

This was not Namjoon.

I screamed, so loud my own ears rang and  a palm pressed down into my mouth, forceful and unrelenting. And terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“Hana…” Jungkook’s voice near my ear made me choke on my tears, my mind splintering in shock and betrayal, body going rigid in terror as he pulled out , only to slide back in.

“Knew it would be worth it, keeping myself pure for you….” He crooned against my skin and I whimpered, wetness spilling over my eyelashes as I tried to squirm away, my mind body and soul only screaming for the man I loved.

“Don’t worry about anything ….Hyung’s in a better place now. “ Jungkook chuckled deeply and I felt my skin go ice cold at the implication. He moved his hand away and I coughed, choking.

“Jungkook….”

The blind fold came off and he kept pumping into me, hips moving erratically, no rhythm or grace and it was obvious he’d never done this before, obvious in the way he looked : blissed out and feral, eyes unfocused as he stared down at me. I felt him tremble and shake, before going still . I felt warm wetness flood my insides and bile rose, nausea making breathing difficult. He stayed on me and inside me, his body so large and immovable, heavy and suffocating over my own.

“what are you doing Jungkookie?” I sobbed out in disbelief and he glared at me.

“What does it fucking look like I’m doing? I’m taking what I fucking deserve….” He snarled. “ Two fucking years…. He doesn’t deserve you. Spends all his days and nights holed up in that studio of his with his friends….leaves you to fend for yourself. You deserve to be waited on, hand and foot… you deserve the world, hana…and he wouldn’t let you experience any of it. Fucking bastard….

“No… No.. God …no..” I choked out. It was the shirt.

He was wearing Namjoon’s shirt. And his cologne. The shirt I knew my boyfriend had been wearing today. How did he get it??

Jungkook brushed his fingers on my cheeks .

“What’s wrong baby? Are you worried about him? Wondering where he is…” He chuckled. “ I told you..he’s in a better place right now..”

“No… you’re lying..you wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I? You know me that well , hana?” He teased.

No. No I didn’t I didn’t know him at all.

“How about this? If you marry me…. If you let me have this dream wedding with my dream girl…. “ He smirked,” If you let me love you the way you deserve , maybe I’ll take you to visit him…someday. ”

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t process what I’d just heard… I didn’t know… if he was bluffing. What if he had actually killed-

I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t. It would break me.

“Okay… Just…please don’t hurt him…” I whispered.

Jungkook smiled.

“Just relax Hana. Everything’s going to be okay.”

AUTHORS NOTE : THIS IS LITERALLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS PURELY OUT OF IDLE CURIOSITY

~~~~~~~~~~~

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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[radiant-reid]

Love/Hate Island

Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Previous

Spencer Reid's decision to conceal the breakup with his girlfriend of two years becomes a problem when Rossi orders him to bring her to his new Long Island mansion on a week-long vacation with the team. Can their relationship be fixed? Do they want it to be?

Summary: Y/n gives Spencer the news, and finds something out of her own.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing | sexual allusions

Word Count: 2.0k

Spencer had said he was sorry. Y/n didn't miss it before she fell asleep. He didn't mean he was sorry about what he put her through Y/n didn't trick herself into believing that. But it had to count for something.

More than anything, the position they fell asleep in, Y/n's body slung over Spencer's so she could hear his heartbeat, had to mean something.

Y/n didn't give herself the time to think about them getting back together. She knew if she did, she'd make up her mind one way or another and have to go through with it. It could crush her either way. So she just didn't think about it.

When she woke up, she almost wanted to look at him. Like she used to, admiring him in the morning light. But she didn't. She clenched her eyes closed as she tried to wiggle out from under his hold, not wanting to wake him.

It didn't work, and she should have known because he had always been such a light sleeper. Spencer was wide awake by the time she moved her leg off his.

He yawned quietly as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, making the mistake of looking right into her eyes. Y/n awkwardly shifted off of him completely.

It all felt too comfortable for Y/n like they woke up in their apartment after Spencer had come back from a case. Like they were still in love with each other. It was the twisting darkness forming in her stomach that caused her to say it.

"Spencer, I think I'm pregnant."

Few sentences can change the entire world by being spoken. They usually have to be followed by actions. But this sentence didn't need accompanying action.

The earth-shattering news actually came out of her mouth coherently. It was clear and understandable, but it stopped time. Both of them were frozen at the moment as everything around them fell away.

Everything felt frozen beside her heart. It was racing, pounding in her chest as she waited for Spencer's reply. She wasn't expecting much, maybe a nod or tight-lipped smile.

"We..." For a second, she thought he was about to sympathize. Not in the same way Hotch had done, and not in the way he used to, but maybe something. "We can't have a baby! Are you kidding?" There it was. The anger in his tone like she had never heard before.

Y/n immediately felt stupid. How had she tricked herself into thinking he could have a positive reaction when he clearly hated her so much? Maybe it was because she wished he didn't despise her so much, but there wasn't much she could do about that now.

Still feeling deceived by herself, she felt a great deal of sadness. The harrowing, intense emotion grew deep inside her like it did the day they broke up. She was desperately biting back tears.

There was no way Spencer didn't notice the grief-struck look on her face as he continued to speak. "You seriously can't have thought I'd be okay with this. Is it even mine?"

He wished he hadn't gone there. And he wished he hadn't gone there with such a harsh tone. After the previous night, all the guilt he'd felt for his snarky comments, he couldn't fathom why he asked the question. Who had he become?

Y/n wasn't sure either. His face didn't show any regret, and she couldn't see a single mannerism that indicated care. She clearly didn't hate him as much as he hated her because she could never speak to him like that. More than anything, she was in disbelief that someone she knew, so well for 2 years, was a different person.

Instead of closing down, she got mad. "Fuck you, Spencer. Of course, it's yours!" She yelled louder than he had, filled with rage by the accusation. "I didn't ask for this to happen." Her voice was small again, although she wished it wasn't.

"Fuck this." Spencer huffed, getting out of the bed before he could say anything else hurtful. He marched to the bathroom, turning on the shower but not undressing or steeping in. He just stood there, hands should distance apart on the countertop as he looked at his reflection in the fogging-up mirror. Deep breaths in and out to calm himself down.

He tapped one of his cheeks, hoping it would wake him up from the terrible nightmare he seemed the be living. It was like someone else was operating his body and words. Someone cruel.

"Get your shit together," Spencer spoke to his reflection. He didn't give himself a chance to process how he felt about the news. He just snapped to anger. It was an emotion he didn't often feel that intensely. Sure, he was mad at the murders in the world, and his dad, when he thought hard enough about his childhood.

And he didn't know what to think. When they were a couple, Spencer had always thought about having kids with Y/n. They talked at length about it, how Y/n wanted them to have button-shaped noses like Spencer's, and how they would do themed middle names. He'd never admit it but imagining their children helped him sleep when he was on cases.

It absolutely wasn't what he expected, but if it were true, he knew he didn't want to be as bad a father as his own. How he was going to do that, he had no idea.

He also realized he should have noticed. Y/n was the only person he had properly focused on the previous night. And she, uncharacteristically, hadn't had a sip of alcohol. There was no way either of them recognized Spencer, but he should have noticed her.

At the same time, Y/n sat against the headboard, clamping a hand over her mouth so Spencer wouldn't hear her crying. She sobbed as she tried to stop her mind from running. Why she thought it was a good idea to tell him when she didn't know if it was true, she didn't know. Her breathing was almost hyperventilating, the air not spreading throughout her body fast enough.

Her trust in him hadn't dissipated in the 6 weeks they were apart. After his reaction, it felt like it was all gone. This Spencer, she didn't know.

She also knew she didn't need him. If she were pregnant, she could do it all alone, so she didn't know where the longing was coming from. She just hoped it was because of her idealized version of a family, with parents that were together, instead of her old feelings for Spencer getting mixed up. The former she could deal with, the latter she couldn't bear to think about.

Their argument wasn't long, but they both felt the same heartwrenching pain they had when they broke up.

Spencer didn't look at her when he finished in the shower. He instead marched out of the room without a word.

Y/n appreciated that because she wasn't sure if she wanted to scream at him, slap him, or cry. Maybe all three.

When she finished showering and tried to fix her puffy eyes, she made her way downstairs. Jack was the first person she saw, running across the tiled floor.

"Aunt Y/n!" He cheered as she bent down to hug him.

"Hi, bud, what are you doing?" Y/n asked him, not seeing anyone else around.

"Playing hide and seek with Uncle Spence. Then he's going to come in the pool with us." Jack informed her, still with a wide smile.

It would have made Y/n coo if she wasn't so furious at him. "You'll find him." She assured the little boy, as much as she wished Spencer would just stay hidden.

When she walked into the room with the other adults, she was thankful for her years of practicing law. Unlike being a profiler and detecting lies, Y/n could lie well. The times she'd had to hide her knowledge of overwhelming evidence of guilt until the right moment, or when she had absolutely no defense but had to pretend she did, taught her how to fake it.

Y/n was, by far, a better emotional poker player than Spencer. She just needed to utilize her skills so the BAU team wouldn't know anything was wrong.

Aaron was the exception, but she shot him a short smile as she walked into the room to ensure him it was okay. However, like the team, she couldn't read him.

She zoned out for most of their idle chatter over breakfast. At least it was a breath of fresh air from Spencer. Her brain never got that pause, and the psychological stress made her physically queasy.

She only zoned back into the moment when JJ was subtly pulling her to the side. "Do you want some saltines?" JJ asked.

Y/n frowned in confusion, unsure where the question was coming from. Rossi's breakfast spread had had fruit, waffles, pancakes, eggs, bacon, even vegetarian bacon, so why would she want crackers?

But it actually seemed palatable. "I guess," Y/n replied.

JJ's eyes lit up, and a smile spread across her face like Y/n's answer meant something on a deeper level. "Are you pregnant?"

That's what it was.

The food was a marker of pregnancy. "Maybe?" Y/n offered, not thrilled to be admitting it to other people when Spencer objected so adamantly.

Y/n had come up with a solution while she showered. And that solution was to disappear after the trip like she was already planning to. Her new intention was to never see any of them, minus Aaron, again. She'd have a baby, one that hopefully didn't remind her too much of Spencer, and that baby would never know their father's colleagues. The baby might not even know their father.

JJ just looked excited, and Y/n knew she had to match the expression to avoid suspicion. "This is amazing!" JJ exclaimed, dwindling Y/n's mood. "Spencer's always wanted to have kids. He's going to be such a good dad."

"He doesn't know." Y/n stopped her before she could continue. JJ wouldn't have done it if she knew, but her words only made Y/n feel worse. It was the easier option than saying 'he knows, and he despites me for it.' "Neither do I." She continued.

JJ's face didn't dampen, clearly happy for the couple who weren't a couple. "I should have a test in my bag. Come check."

Y/n just nodded, feeling as though her life was drawing to a crescendo as JJ dragged her upstairs, rummaging through her things.

It all felt real once the white strip of plastic with a blue end was in her hands. She had spent so much wondering whether or not she was pregnant, and now the tiny test in her hand was going to reveal the truth.

It was an out-of-body experience as she used the test before walking back out into JJ's room. The blonde still looked excited, not deterred by the look of dread on Y/n's face.

Y/n didn't know what she wanted it to say. Negative would be easier. Positive would give her a little bit of Spencer to keep.

The three-minute waiting time seemed to taunt her. One hundred and eighty seconds that it took to figure out what direction her life would head in.

"Here." JJ took the test out of her shaky grip, sitting Y/n down on the bed once she noticed the color drain from her face. Y/n went to reach for the test, needing to know the answer, but JJ stopped her. "Don't worry, I'll tell you. Just take a second to breathe."

Right, that's what Y/n had forgotten to do. Apparently, due to the lack of sound coming out of her open mouth, she'd also forgotten how to speak.

"Spence will be so thrilled if it's positive." JJ absentmindedly commented.

Y/n's numbness prevented her from crying or laughing at the irony. She wasn't sure which emotion would come out if she could speak. The timer dinged, and Y/n's heart rate was at an all-time high. "What does it say?" She managed to ask in her quietest voice.

Seconds ticked by like hours, milliseconds like minutes as JJ lifted the test up, reading it herself before speaking the single word aloud.

"It's..."

Next Chapter

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[breadqueen95]

I Hope You’re Okay - Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

wc: 8.2k (go off i guess)

summary: Bucky is filled with doubt and confusion after the events of Endgame. He breaks up with Y/n, reacting badly to his instinct to isolate himself. She’s more than a little confused; they’d fallen in love in Wakanda. What had changed? Months later, Sam is the only connection they still have. Set during the events of TFATWS, can Sam get his idiot friends to finally get over themselves and admit how much they still need each other? Based on “hope ur ok” by Olivia Rodrigo.

content warnings: physical affection. break ups. language. canon violence. murder. mental illness. trauma. mentions of major character deaths from endgame. endgame and tfatws spoilers. guns.

a/n: omg this one’s a doozy. I totally thought this was only gonna be 3k or so, 8k later and I’m shocked. This was a really fun one to write, though! Endgame and TFATWS spoilers galore, my babies. not proof read so expect a mistake or two. it’s 3am so i just don’t have it in me lmao

***

“I don’t understand,” you’d whispered, “I…I thought we were fine.”

Bucky sighed, his breath trembling as he exhaled. He ran his hand down his tired face, fingers lingering over his eyes to try and hide the tears that threatened to spill over. But you knew him. You knew him better than anyone, even Steve Rogers. This was harder for him that he was letting on.

So why was this happening?

“I honestly don’t get it either,” Bucky huskily murmured, keeping his voice low to avoid showing the cracks that wanted to break his words apart. “But…god, please don’t make this harder.”

You scoffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes, biting out, “I’m not exactly trying to be difficult here, Bucky. I’m trying to understand. We were fine. We were in Wakanda, and we were fucking perfect. Then we fight in a space war, we lose, turn to dust for five years, then we came back. So much has changed around us, but that doesn’t mean we—”

“Of course it means we’ve changed!” He burst out. This time he couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “Everything has fucking changed. The Avengers are over. Everyone’s gone. Tony’s dead. Natasha is dead. Steve decided to hide out in the past rather than stay with us. So yeah, everything has changed!” Bucky’s chest heaved with emotion. It was overwhelming after years of having these very human reactions smothered, and…he didn’t know how to handle it. He just wanted for this interaction to be over.

“So what?” You hissed, “So we suffer through unimaginable tragedy and you decide you don’t love me anymore? We got a second chance, Bucky. Did Wakanda mean nothing to you?”

“That’s not fair. You know it meant everything to me.”

“Then why the fuck are you breaking up with me?” You asked loudly, voice rising with anger and desperation. You’d lost so much…Tony and Natasha were family. They’d sacrificed themselves to save everyone, which knowing them, was the way they would’ve wanted to go out. That didn’t make it any easier…Tony left behind a wife and a little girl who loved him beyond all words. Natasha, who had been the hidden glue for the team for years, never got the appreciation she so deserved. She wouldn’t be able to see her found family find their footing again after so much suffering.

Then there was Steve. Steve had been your best friend, the brother you’d never had. You believed in him. You loved him. He introduced you to Bucky, asked you to stay with him in Wakanda as Shuri worked to reverse HYDRA’s horrendous work.

During those quiet and simple 2 years, you and Bucky had fallen in love. You thought your loneliness was over…that you’d found the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

Then Thanos happened. Steve abandoned you. He abandoned Bucky.

Now Bucky was abandoning you.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered, finally meeting your eyes, “I don’t…I wish I could explain it. But I can’t.”

The finality in his words hit you like a train. He had decided. Nothing you said, no amount of begging or questioning, would change his mind.

He was done with you. For whatever reason…he was done.

“Okay,” you whispered, “okay, Bucky.” Sobs built in your chest, trying to force their way out. The accompanying breakdown was imminent. You felt the last bit of your sanity crumbling. It was time to leave, get yourself away from this hurt. Protect yourself.

You went to him, standing on your tiptoes to give him one last lingering kiss to his jawline. His breath shuttered as your lips met his skin. You didn’t know it, but that almost broke him. Bucky wanted to fall to his knees, beg for forgiveness. Beg you to stay.

But he didn’t.

That had been months ago, just a few days after Tony Stark’s funeral. The last memory you had of Bucky Barnes was him curling in on himself, burying his face in his hands as you turned and left the hotel room you’d been staying in together. You hadn’t seen him or spoken to him since.

Not that you hadn’t tried.

Bucky had broken your heart, but that hadn’t stopped you from loving him or wanting the best for him. He’d been through so much, way too much. Now that the dust had settled, he would be surrounded by infinite quiet moments. You knew Bucky. You knew his mind would be constantly spinning, reliving everything awful that had happened to him. Especially with nothing going on. There weren’t any battles to fight, no space wars to end. Nothing but his own mind.

Quite frankly, you were worried.

Sam was the only person from the team you’d been able to stay in touch with. He tried to check in with Bucky whenever he could, but he was back in Louisiana with his family. His family needed him, there was a lot going on down there. Buck lived in New York City, so it wasn’t as if Sam could just drop by on a whim to check on him in person. He had to settle for calling him whenever he could. Bucky hated cell phones…he was stupid and stubborn and old fashioned that way. Sam told you Bucky would talk occasionally, but for the most part he was shutting him out. Ignoring his calls and text messages.

As far as you knew, you were the only one who lived in the same city as him. New York City had been your home long before Bucky Barnes and breaking up with him wasn’t going to force you out. As far as you knew, he was still living out in Brooklyn. You’d moved yourself over to Manhattan, trying to lose yourself in the roar of the city and the tall skyscrapers. Pepper had given you a job with the NYC branch of Stark Industries. It was a little outside of your wheelhouse, but you were able to do some important work helping the world readjust to life post-Snap. It kept you busy.

In every single one of your weekly check-ins with Sam, he begged you to go out to Brooklyn and see Bucky. Just to check on him, see if he was okay. Give you both peace of mind, he always said.

Every time you said no.

That didn’t mean you didn’t think about Bucky. You thought about him every minute of every day. No matter how busy you kept yourself, he invaded every thought you had. After you’d gotten together in Wakanda, you and Bucky talked all the time about what a normal life together would be like once you could go home. Now that you were finally living a life of relative normalcy, those conversations replayed in your head endlessly.  

“Where would you want to live?” You’d asked one night, his arms holding you tightly to his chest.

“I’d love to live in Brooklyn again,” he’d mused, “relearn the city. Show you all the places I remember from when I was growing up.” Bucky traced his fingers across your jawline to your chin, finally tilting your face to look at him, then whispered, “I’d want you with me. I want to wake up to you every day, fall asleep holding you every night.”

“You do?” Your voice was shaking with tenuous hope. Not many people wanted to stay around in your life for too long. Almost everyone left you – dead or of their own volition. Even the family you’d thought you’d found with the Avengers had collapsed, leaving you questioning the point of building any lasting relationships.

“Yes,” Bucky had murmured, leaning down to capture your lips with his own. With his mouth still touching yours, he whispered, “I can’t imagine anything better.”

That conversation was so damn vivid in your mind every time you thought about it. That didn’t help the pain that always came with it, which always felt like someone sliding a dagger into your heart with each word that echoed in your memory.

Bucky was good with knives, so you guessed it was only fitting.

“Sam,” you groaned, “you need to quit asking me. I’m not going to see Bucky.”

“C’mon, Y/n. He’s struggling, you know he is. I think seeing you would really help him.”

“The last time I saw him he was breaking up with me. So no, I don’t think it would. He made it very clear that he didn’t want me around anymore.”

“Y/n—”

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me. You know I’m right.”

“He asks about you.”

“…no he doesn’t. You just want me to go.” Even with the way you forced your voice into careless dismissal, your heart thundered against your ribcage. “Besides, I thought he wasn’t talking to you.”

“Not as much as I’d like, but he’ll talk every now and then,” Sam replied. “Of course it’s never about him or how he’s doing. For the few minutes I’ve got him on, Bucky only ever asks questions about you.”

You didn’t want to believe him. Believing him only made your hurt and confusion worse. But Sam was one of the most genuine people you knew. It was why he and Steve had been so close. Knowing how you felt about Bucky, knowing how utterly heartbroken you still were months later, he would never lie to you about that.

“Oh,” you said, breathless. “What…what does he ask?”

“If you’re okay. Where you ended up. Those kinds of things.”

“What do you tell him?”

“I tell him he needs to get his head out of his ass and call you himself,” Sam shot back, laughter evident in his smooth voice. “I assume he hasn’t.”

“No,” you answered, voice having gone quiet as your feelings raged within, “he hasn’t.”

He sighed, and you could picture him clearly in that moment. Sam had always rubbed his forehead when he was stressed or worried, always paired with a deep sigh like the one he gave off just now. You wanted to take a load off of his stress, you really did. But he was asking you for the one thing you couldn’t give.

“Will you at least call him?”

“Sam—”

“I know, I’m asking a lot here. Bucky hurt you, and trust me, as soon as I see him next I’m kicking his ass for it.” You giggled, picturing it so easily. “Just…will you do this? For me?”

“Fine,” you grumbled, “but you so owe me.”

“I’ll buy you all the pizza you want next time I’m in town, how’s that?”

“Perfect,” you laughed, then the sound faded away as you remembered. “Are you still giving up the shield tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Sam answered, sounding tired. “Look, I…I know you and Steve were close. I know this must be hard for you.”

“It is,” you admitted, “but Steve gave that shield to you. Only you know what’s right. I trust you.”

***

Sam had texted you Bucky’s phone number right after your conversation this afternoon. What you should’ve done was call right away, get this big and scary thing that wasn’t actually big or scary at all over with.

So, in true Y/n fashion, you avoided it. You stared at your phone for the rest of the afternoon, then well into the evening. Once the clock passed 6:30pm, you’d forced yourself to pick it up and open the text message with his number. Then you stared at it for another thirty minutes, hands shaking as your fingers hovered over the screen.

But this was Sam. The one friend you had left was asking you for help. You had to do this.

Heart thundering in your ears, you finally pressed the highlighted number, then selected ‘call’ from the options listed. You pressed the phone to your ear, vision tunneling dangerously until the only thing that existed for you was the ringing as the call tried to get through.

It rang. And rang. And rang some more.

Finally, after a few more times, the call went to voicemail. Bucky hadn’t answered. You knew deep down that you hadn’t truly expected him to answer, but…it was like that dagger that stabbed you every time you thought about him twisted just a little more.

As the prompt kept going for the voicemail, you decided on a whim to leave one. You hadn’t really planned to, but after everything he’d made you go through, you wanted him to know that someone else cared. That someone else was worried. And, well…

You missed him.

Right after the beep sounded, you tried to level out your voice, and said, “Hi, Bucky. It’s Y/n. I, uh…I know we haven’t talked for a while, but…Sam’s been worried about you, you know. He’s asked me to check on you so many times I lost count. So, uh, this is me just…checking on you.” You paused, wrinkling your brow at how lame you sounded. What the fuck was that? “If you need anything, just…I don’t know, call me on this number. Bye.”

Hanging up, you threw yourself down on your bed in frustration and sheer embarrassment. Months had gone by without seeing or talking to Bucky, and the first time he hears your voice, you just had to say, ‘this is me checking on you’. Why couldn’t you just get it together for one goddamn second? Your stomach churned as you imagined him listening to that voicemail. It churned even worse as you pictured him deleting it, wanting nothing to do with you.

And you knew he would.

***

Bucky’s phone beeped next to him, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Looking around, he realized that his small apartment had grown dark as he sat. He hadn’t even noticed. The blue light from the television lit the space in an eerie glow, the colors he was still getting used to way too bright against his eyes. Stretching, he realized just how stiff his muscles had gotten from sitting in the same position for way too long.

Picking up his phone, he saw that he had one missed call and a new voicemail.

From Y/n.

He nearly dropped the phone is surprise. Bucky had saved her new contact information months ago, right after Sam had sent it over. He had started asking Bucky to call her around that time, sending over her number to try and give him a little push. He’d saved it, fully intending on calling, he just…hadn’t. Sam told him all the time how worried he was about her. She never talked to anyone, buried herself in work, and…

She was hurting. Sam never failed to remind him just how much Bucky had hurt her.

That was why he hadn’t called. How could he force himself into her life again? Surprise her with a phone call one day out of the blue after what he did to her?

That, and he was scared. Absolutely terrified of opening that self-inflicted wound all over again.

Hand shaking, Bucky pressed the button to start the voicemail and held it up to his ear. Her voice, still his favorite sound, echoed in his ear as she spoke.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s Y/n. I, uh…I know we haven’t talked for a while, but…Sam’s been worried about you, you know. He’s asked me to check on you so many times I lost count. So, uh, this is me just…checking on you. If you need anything, just…I don’t know, call me on this number. Bye.”

Bucky kept the phone against his ear even after the message ended. Then he hastily pulled the phone away, restarted the message, and pressed it against his ear even harder than before. Her voice sounded as beautiful as ever, causing his heart and mind go into absolute overdrive. Bucky had spent the past few months without her trying so hard not to feel anything, and the few words she’d spoken ripped those walls down almost immediately. Listening to her say his name was overwhelming. He’d spent so long trying to forget how it sounded that he didn’t realize how much he missed it.

Even with his strong, visceral reaction to hearing her talking to him again, she sounded…not great. Tired. Nervous. Out of patience. That could’ve just been because she was talking to him, to be fair. But he knew her. During those two years they spent together in Wakanda, he’d learned everything there was to know about her. They’d bared their souls to each other. All Bucky had needed to know Y/n wasn’t doing well were those few stilted sentences.

But…maybe he couldn’t say that anymore. He grimaced. It wasn’t fair of him to say he knew her. A few months shouldn’t be considered a huge chunk of time, especially to a 106-year-old man, but it felt like ages. So much could have changed since the last time he saw her. After the shit he pulled, Y/n probably had changed.

He wanted to call her back. More than anything. Even as he made to push the button that would dial her number, he paused right before he pressed it.

What the fuck gave him the right to call her? She said it herself; Sam had been asking her to talk to him for months. Guess she just finally got worn down enough to do it, just say she did it so she could shut him up for a bit. Hadn’t Sam been badgering him about doing the same thing? Knowing him, he thought if he could just get them to talk, they’d make up. Bucky knew it wasn’t that simple.

Bucky loved her. He didn’t know much in this strange new world he’d woken up to, but he was sure of that much. But he hadn’t ended things because he fell out of love. Anyone who knew Y/n knew falling out of love with her simply wasn’t possible. He ended things to protect her. From him.

Peace wasn’t something he was used to, especially once the Wakandans had helped him iron out his head. All he knew was that one minute, he was living a life of happiness with Y/n. Then he was fighting a goddamn space war. Then…they woke up apparently five years later, then fought another one. Natasha had already been dead when they’d come back. Bucky had watched Tony sacrifice himself on the battlefield to save the universe. Never getting to apologize to him…that was one of his greatest regrets.

Everything after had felt like blow after blow. The world had already been strange when he woke up the first time. It was even stranger after coming back with half the population. Then, his best friend, the man he considered his brother, decided the people he’d chosen as his family weren’t good enough for him. He left, went back, and lived the life he thought he’d always meant to.

Bucky knew that after everything Steve had been through, everything he’d sacrificed, he deserved to make that decision. He deserved to choose himself, and he had. That didn’t make it any easier. That didn’t make him any less bitter about the whole thing. It didn’t make the resentment that had slowly been simmering away in his gut these past few months disappear.

He was scared. He felt alone. He felt angry. After spending so long going from one fight to the next, Bucky hadn’t had a whole lot of time to process everything that had happened. Then there was Y/n, whispering sweet assurances in his ear. Holding him after his nightmares had woken them both up again. Putting aside her own grief at losing so many people she loved to hold his fraying edges together.

So he did the only thing he thought he could. He ended things. Bucky had convinced himself that it would be better. He could go off and get his shit together, and she could move on. Focus on herself. Find someone who deserved her. Someone who wasn’t a hundred-year-old mess.

As soon as the door had shut behind her, Bucky regretted it. He wished he hadn’t done it. To this day, he wished with his entire being he’d gone after her. Taken it all back. But he hadn’t, and he couldn’t change that. It didn’t help that he was trying to make amends for the countless crimes he’d been forced to commit. He couldn’t drag her down in that.

Sam had told him she was in New York City still – Manhattan, he’d said. The number of times he had to convince himself not to go over to her place and beg her to take him back was more than he’d care to admit. Even more so when considering the times he’d almost called her, if only just to hear her voice. Bucky missed her so, so much.

Bucky set the phone down. He couldn’t call her, not tonight. Not like this. He was heading out with Sam on a mission in a few days, somewhere in Europe connected to the Flag Smashers. He’d give him an earful first, though. First about giving up the shield, which he wholeheartedly thought was a huge mistake. Then about trying to work both sides of the field to fix his and Y/n’s relationship. Then…

Then maybe he’d ask for his advice. On how to handle this.

***

You’d watched them announce John Walker as the ‘New Captain America’ a few days later. The man might have the same blonde hair and blue eyes that Steve did. He might wear the same colors. He might even hold the shield you knew so well. That didn’t change the fact that he looked like the biggest fucking slimeball you’d ever seen.

Gritting your teeth, you watched as this stranger held the shield aloft to a cheering crowd. How could they do this? Who in their right mind thought this was the right call? Sam was the only one who could do that; Steve had chosen him. And he’d wanted the moniker to be his alone, the shield celebrated as a symbol of his legacy in his exhibit.

Bucky had never called you back. Sam hadn’t either, only giving you a thumbs up when you told him you’d tried to call but got no answer. You knew he was heading out on a mission today, and that Bucky was probably with him. Even without access to their phones, they’d know what had just happened. If you had guessed right, and you usually did, the government probably hadn’t warned Sam about their decision, let alone asked him if it was okay.

Fingers trembling with barely suppressed rage, you opened Sam’s contact info and called. Being on a mission, you knew he wouldn’t answer, so you’d have to settle for leaving a message. He couldn’t change it, and he was probably just as mad as you were but being a former member of the Avengers meant John Walker would contact you. He’d want you to follow him. Of course you’d say ‘fuck no’, but you wanted Sam’s opinion on this.

Right as the beep sounded, you launched right into your spiel, saying, “Look, I know this wasn’t your choice. I know you’re probably furious and you have every right to be. Just…as soon as you can, let me know how you want me to respond. They’ll come asking. Take care of yourself, talk to you soon.” Even as you hung up, you still felt uncertainty and anger chipping away at you. Steve had definitely not accounted for this when he’d given Sam the shield. You hadn’t, either. But who else could you call? Who else could you ask?

…Bucky. You could call Bucky.

All the other emotions you were drowning in forced out any possible shame as you called your ex for the second time in a few days. That familiar beep sounded, and you spoke without thinking.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and that’s fine, but go easy on Sam, okay? I know you’re probably mad, but still. And as soon as you hear this, let me know how you’re going to handle this Walker guy. I’m not sure what to do. Even if it’s just a text message. And just…take care of yourself, okay?”

He never called back. Neither did Sam.

A couple weeks later, right as you opened the news on your laptop one evening, the headline made your stomach drop.

CAPTAIN AMERICA KILLS CITIZEN WITH SHIELD OVERSEAS IN BLOODY SCENE

WHAT. THE. FUCK??????

Opening the article as quickly as you could, you scanned the article for information. For unknown reasons, John Walker had chased down a suspected Flag Smasher and nearly decapitated him with the shield, murdering him in front of a watching crowd. Instead of, you know, bringing him in like a REASONABLE PERSON. He’d fled the scene soon after and had yet to be found.

Checking the timestamp on the article, you saw that this had only happened within the past few hours. The article didn’t include the video due to its extremely violent nature. You didn’t want to see it. You had no desire to watch that brutal of a murder. But you had to know. That, and according to your sources, Sam and Bucky had also been tracking the Flag Smashers before going off the grid. You worried about them endlessly, even more so knowing this had happened. What if they’d been hurt?

A quick search on YouTube found the video. Eyes wide with horror, you watched the bloody scene unfurl on the cobblestone street. John Walker wasn’t just incompetent, he was unhinged. It made to slightly relieved he hadn’t tried to contact you to get your support. At first, your ego was a little stung by the very obvious snub. But having to deal with someone like this? You wanted no part in that.

The video ended, and all you could do was stare at your laptop. The frame was paused right where the video ended, a self-righteous Walker staring the crowd down, as if daring someone call him out on the murder he’d just committed. Then, a familiar vibranium arm off to the side caught your attention. Shifting your focus, you saw Bucky. Not too far away was Sam.

Breath catching in your throat, you hastily zoomed in. The quality was shit, but they both looked like they were okay for the most part. They seemed a little beaten up, but they were upright at least. That was something. Their faces betrayed all the emotions you now felt: shock, horror, and unmistakable rage. Bucky’s jaw looked like it was clenched, and his hands were curled into fists at his side.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on Bucky’s face. You hadn’t seen him since that day in the hotel room. He looked…different. Good. His long hair had now been cropped short, sticking out in every direction. You smiled a little in spite of yourself. He still had a penchant for stubbly cheeks and leather, which was a strange kind of comfort.

Knowing these two idiots as well as you did, you knew they’d charge right after Walker. They’d try to bring him in, get that shield away from him before he caused any more damage. That was just who they were. No getting around it.

That didn’t stop you from picking up your phone and calling Bucky.

“Bucky, it’s me. I just saw the video of Walker, and holy fuck that was messed up. I know Sam, and I know you. I’m not sure what happened after that, but…stay safe, okay? Don’t do anything too stupid. Tell Sam the same thing.”

After you hung up, you didn’t even try to call Sam. They were there together, there wasn’t really a point. Even in the hours after, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be anxious and feel shame about calling Bucky and leaving another message.

All you knew was that you wanted to hear his voice.

***

“Hand me the wrench, would you?” Sam asked.

Bucky wordlessly handed him the tool he needed, then continued working on his own task. As the sun rose higher in the sky above the water, Sam and Bucky worked quietly on the Wilson family boat. There was a lot that needed to be done, but Bucky was more than happy to help out after Sam had let him crash at his place.

He’d gotten back in the United States a couple of days ago, feeling strangely…at peace. He had held a gun to Zemo’s head in Sokovia and hadn’t killed him, hadn’t given in to the world’s expectations of the Winter Soldier. The man he had been forced to be for so long. That had never been the plan in the first place, but even so, it had been cathartic in a way. The Dora Milaje had Zemo and were taking him to the Raft, where he would hopefully spend the rest of his days. After everything the man had done, all the pain he had caused, it was a relief to be away from him.

Thankfully following through on his request, Ayo had left a particularly important package with him. One he brought to Sam, for whenever he was ready. Based on everything they’d been through, everything they’d talked about…he knew that time was coming. It was up to him now when that would be.

As soon as his plane touched down in New York, he’d wanted to go see Y/n. His phone with her information had been smashed to pieces when he’d (very stupidly) jumped from a plane without a parachute. Bucky had known his body would be fine, and the one chute on the plane had been defective. He just hadn’t considered the weirdly fragile piece of technology in his pocket. The only way he’d been able to contact Ayo was through the phone he kept on specifically to contact people in Wakanda. It had been made by them for that reason so the calls couldn’t be tracked, which of course explained why it was practically indestructible.

As his connecting flight to Louisiana soared above the city skyline, he wished with his entire being he was going to see her. All he wanted was to see her face, stare into those eyes he loved so much, and beg for her forgiveness. Beg for another chance. Beg her to listen when he promised he still loved her, and that he never stopped.

But the suit couldn’t exactly go on to Louisiana without him. He hated it, but Y/n would have to wait.

“You need to call her,” Sam said.

“What?” Bucky asked, having completely been oblivious to the world around him until Sam had said something.

“You need to call Y/n.”

“I don’t have my phone,” he grumbled in response, looking down at the tool in his hands.

“You can use mine, I’m good at sharing.”

“Sam…”

“Uh uh. Don’t use that tone with me, Barnes. She deserves to hear from you. Damn it, this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? You’re both miserable without each other, so do something about it!”

“I’m already planning on it!”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise and he physically recoiled in shock.

“Uh…sitting on my boat isn’t gonna help you with that, Buck.”

“After this Flag Smasher business is done,” he sighed, “I’m gonna go see her. The things I need to say, apologize for…I can’t do that over the phone.”

“Bucky,” Sam said, “it could take Karli weeks before she makes her move. Weeks. You really wanna wait that long? Make her wait?”

“I have to see this through. Once I do, I…I don’t know. I feel like I’ll have figured something out, somehow.”

“This isn’t going to erase what you did.”

“I know that. I do. But I need to do this my way. But I promise, I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to her. She’ll probably want nothing to do with me, but I have to try.”

Sam smiled at him in that knowing way of his, then said, “She misses you. I know she does.”

***

It took him until the day of the GRC vote to figure out how to recover old voicemails.

Once he’d replaced his phone, he went weeks without knowing that Y/n had tried to call him more than that one time. That she’d left him two messages and he hadn’t even known.

He’d had to go to Verizon in person to get it figured out. Once they’d helped him, he waited until he was back in his apartment to listen.

Her tone had changed from the first to the second. She was short and to the point, but there was no tiredness in her voice. Only trusting him to help her decide how to handle Walker. Wanting to know what he planned on doing.

The third showed the biggest change. His fist clenched reflexively upon hearing the outrage and anxiety in her voice as she reacted to the violence in Latvia, his first instinct to always protect her. What followed was…pleasant surprise. She wanted him to stay safe. Wanted him to not do anything stupid. Y/n hadn’t even bothered calling Sam, just asked Bucky to convey the message. She’d chosen to call him.

All this change, and he hadn’t even spoken to her yet. It gave him hope that…well, maybe she’d listen. Maybe there was a chance.

Sam was already on his way here. If they managed to stop Karli and the Flag Smashers, if they managed to protect the city and get out alive, her place was his first stop.

***

Another few weeks had passed without hearing from Bucky.

Sam had called you about two weeks after the Latvia incident. He let you rush out all your panicked worries and scolding before assuring you that he and Bucky were just fine. They were laying low and were back stateside, waiting for the Flag Smashers to act. Somehow, Sam was sure they would try to pull off something huge in the coming weeks. They just weren’t sure where or when. In the meantime, they were going to wait. Plan. Train.

You hadn’t bothered him with your worries and insecurities about Bucky. From what he’d told you, they’d gone through a lot. Sam was going through a kind of personal reckoning of his own as he grappled with being a black man carrying that shield. He’d learned even more about the very nefarious past surrounding the serum in the United States and had told you about Isaiah Bradley. All you did was support him as best you could, and then offered your help for whatever was to come. You weren’t sure if he’d take you up on that, but he seemed comforted by it in any case.

In was a balmy spring night in the city. You’d been holed up in what used to be the Avengers Tower, now having resumed the mantle of Stark Tower. The GRC were holding a massive vote tonight on what they were going to do about caring for blip refugees, and the Stark Relief Foundation had to be ready for whatever they decided. Lost in your work, you hadn’t even known anything was amiss until one of your colleagues rushed into the room.

“Y/n, turn on the news. The Flag Smashers attacked the GRC meeting.”

“What?” You’d asked, disbelief and uncertainty flooding every sense.

She switched on the television in the conference room you’d been working in, and there it was. Live footage was being streamed from just a few blocks away. Your heart leapt in your throat as you saw panicked masses streaming from the building, their faces illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights of surrounding first responders.

“I have to go,” you breathed, whirling on your heels.

“What? You can’t go down there, it’s not safe!”

“I used to be an Avenger. I can’t not fight.”

“But—”

Her words were cut off as the door swung shut behind you. You’d given back your weapons when you’d taken this job. Hung up your tactical suit, now collecting dust in your closet. You were dangerously out of shape, finding solace and distraction in your work instead of honing your body.

You regretted it now.

Police officers had already surrounded the building. As you tried to force your way past them, they held up their arms to stop you.

“We’ve sealed the building for your protection, ma’am. Please return inside.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’ve helped during these kinds of attacks before, it used to be my job—”

“That’s all well and fine, but we have it under control.”

“You’re not hearing me, I can help—”

“We’re under direct orders to keep everyone in the building.”

Damn them. As mad as you were, you knew they had a point. It was a well-known fact that the Stark Relief Foundation worked directly with the GRC to try and provide relief. It didn’t matter that you actively tried to sway them toward helping people rather than go with their avoidance tactics; mere association made this building and everyone in it a target.

“Okay,” you sighed, giving in, “just keep us updated. Call me directly.”

You handed them your business card, and the officer widened his eyes as he saw your very recognizable name.

“Wait, are you—”

Yet another person’s words were cut off by your impatience, heading right back inside and up to your office.

***

You’d spent the night glued to the news along with the rest of your floor.

The pops of gunfire and the roar of explosions echoed off the buildings, the sound carrying up to your conference room on the 32nd floor. Every sound mocked you. You used to be the first to charge into the fight, fighting with everything you had to protect your team and anyone who happened to be in the line of fire. Watching and waiting was a new kind of awful.

It didn’t help knowing Bucky and Sam were down there on the front lines. You’d cheered with everyone else as Sam first appeared on camera sporting a new suit and holding the shield you loved so much. He’d accepted the heavy mantle of Captain America. Tears of joy streamed down your face as you watched him, the news cameras tracking his efforts as he flew around the city.

As much as Bucky tried to hide in the shadows, the news had captured him often enough throughout the night as well. Searing panic had captured you in a chokehold as he utilized his vibranium arm and super strength to wrench open the door of a burning van, saving everyone trapped inside. Pride didn’t even begin to describe what you felt as you saw someone shaking his hand, thanking him. If the Bucky you’d first met all those years ago could see this…he would never believe it.

You’d stepped away at that point, needing a moment. Needing the time to say something you should’ve said a long time ago.

Ducking into your private office, you quickly shut the door behind you and pulled out your phone. Bucky hadn’t returned your calls for a reason, you knew that. You knew he was busy saving the city, being the hero he was always meant to be. But you had to leave one last message.

“Bucky, it’s Y/n,” you started quietly right as the beep sounded, “I know you don’t wanna talk to me, and it’s okay. I understand. I’ll stop calling after this. I just wanted you to know…”

Your words choked off as tears spilled over your lashes, and you took a shuddering breath, trying to collect yourself.

“I…I want you to know how proud I am of you. How proud I am to know you. You had the courage to unlearn every hateful thing they forced into that beautiful, amazing heart of yours, and it makes me happier than I can say knowing you’re becoming the hero you were always meant to be.”

A sob forced its way from your lungs, and you fought to keep yourself under just enough control to finish what you called to say.

“I hope you’re happier, today. I don’t know anyone who deserves happiness more than you do. I miss you so, so much. I just…I hope you’re okay. If I never see you or hear from you again, I want you to know how much I love you. I never stopped.”

That last confession, the one about you loving him, that had been unplanned. It slipped out, but you couldn’t say you regretted it. Unplanned or not, it was true. It had been true this entire time you’d been apart.

***

The mission had been a success.

According to most, anyway. And for the most part, it had been. The Flag Smashers had been stopped. Sam had made an impassioned speech to the most powerful people in the world, saying everything they’d needed to have heard a long time ago. It had been the most formidable thing Bucky had ever seen. He was so proud to know Sam, to fight alongside him.

Karli had been the only casualty. Sharon had killed her, thinking she would’ve killed Sam if she hadn’t. Despite everything Karli had done, Bucky couldn’t help but feel unbound regret and sadness over her loss. She was just a kid, at the end of the day. A kid who had been through too much and was trying to make people listen the only way she knew how. If the GRC had just listened to people in the first place, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

As Sam spoke to grateful New Yorkers who wanted a word with their new Captain America, Bucky pulled out his phone to check the time.

One new message. From Y/n.

Probably to chew him out for having extra police presence near Stark Tower. It had made sense strategically, but Bucky admittedly had selfish reasons for wanting that building sealed. Knowing Y/n, she would’ve charged right out into the streets to fight and help in any way she could. But he also knew from what Sam had told him that she hadn’t picked up a weapon in months. Hadn’t worked out in ages. If she went up against an enhanced Flag Smasher, they’d tear her to pieces. That couldn’t happen.

Trying to slow his racing heart, he held the phone to his ear.

“Bucky, it’s Y/n. I know you don’t wanna talk to me, and it’s okay. I understand. I’ll stop calling after this. I just wanted you to know… I…I want you to know how proud I am of you. How proud I am to know you. You had the courage to unlearn every hateful thing they forced into that beautiful, amazing heart of yours, and it makes me happier than I can say knowing you’re becoming the hero you were always meant to be. I hope you’re happier, today. I don’t know anyone who deserves happiness more than you do. I miss you so, so much. I just…I hope you’re okay. If I never see you or hear from you again, I want you to know how much I love you. I never stopped.”

He kept the phone pressed to his ear long after it ended. Tears were filling his tired eyes, slipping in unchecked streams down his grimy face. Bucky’s mouth, so used to scowling and grimacing, split into an earth-shattering grin. His heart soared.

Y/n was proud of him. She missed him. She loved him.

“Uh…what’s with the face?”

Sam’s bemused features materialized in front of him.

“How far is Y/n’s building from here?”

“What?” Sam asked, completely caught off guard. “It’s almost 3am, man. She’s asleep.”

“I don’t care, I need to go see her right now—”

“Whatever emotional epiphany you just had, you’re not gonna go bother that girl until you’ve had some damn sleep—”

“She loves me. Y/n still loves me,” Bucky interjected, giddiness making his voice jump around as he held up his phone, “she left me a message and told me.”

“Well fuck, that changes things.”

Sam texted Bucky her address as he sprinted off in the direction he’d pointed to, the exact building and apartment number coming in as he went. It was only a few blocks from where he’d started, and it took him no time at all to get there. Punching in the building code that Sam had given him, he didn’t slow down as he sped through the lobby to the elevators. He pressed the button for the 21st floor repeatedly until the doors opened, allowing him to hurtle inside.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of her apartment. 2114. He didn’t even stop to think about it and was soon knocking harshly at her door. He flinched a little after he’d done it, hoping he didn’t scare her.

The door creaked open, revealing a very tired Y/n in wrinkled work clothes. Her y/e/c eyes went wide with shock, mouth falling open into a started ‘o’.

“I love you too,” Bucky panted, “I never stopped. I’m an idiot, and I’m so sorry for hurting you, I just—”

His words were cut off as Y/n cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in, kissing him softly. It was quick, barely even a peck really. She pulled back and looked at him, uncertainty swimming in her gaze.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, “I can’t believe I did that—”

It was Bucky’s turn to cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him before kissing her back. He tried to pour all the passion, affection, and love he hadn’t been able to show her during these lonely months. He tried to explain without words how much he regretted the choice he’d made, and how he never planned on letting her go again.

Her hands, always seeming so small to him, reached up and tangled in his hair, slightly scratching at his scalp. He groaned aloud at the sensation, chills erupting over his body at the pleasure her touch gave him. Leaning back, she pulled him with her until they were over the threshold of her apartment. Bucky kicked the door shut behind him, effectively shutting out the rest of the world.

Just her and him. How it was always supposed to be.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Bucky leaned his forehead against hers. He ran his hands over every part of her he could reach; her back, her hips, the back of her neck, up into her hair. He finally ended his trail as he cupped her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. Y/n reached up and covered his hands with her own, rubbing the backs of them with her thumbs.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered, “I was so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, you were,” she murmured, but her eyes held nothing but love as she looked at him.

“I know there’s a lot to talk about, and a lot to move past. The only thing I know is,” he took a breath, “is that I want to be with you. I want to give this another shot.”

“Bucky, you broke my heart,” she whispered, and his own nearly tore in two at the sight, knowing he caused that pain.

“I’ll never stop being sorry for that.”

“I know,” she nodded, “none of this is fixed overnight, but I meant what I said. Every word. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

“I love you,” he choked out, overwhelmed by her and everything that had happened tonight. He pressed another kiss to her lips, and he found he wanted to do this for as long as she’d have him. The rest of their lives, if she wanted. He knew he did.

She smiled at him, and he realized in that moment just how much he missed that smile.

“Go shower, superhero,” she smirked, “I know you’ve had a long night, but I intend to fall asleep with your arms around me. Can’t let you in my clean sheets with you all grimy, though.”

“That sounds incredible and all, sweetheart,” he laughed, “but I don’t have any clothes here.”

“Yeah, you do,” she replied shyly.

“Uh, no I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I didn’t have it in me to get rid of some of your clothes, so they’ve been living at the bottom of my drawer. Still clean and everything.”

She giggled as he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed every inch of it he could reach, punctuating every single kiss with an ‘I love you’.

After a quick shower, he’d pulled on some boxers of his that she’d admitted to sleeping in once or twice. Bucky practically fell into bed, pulling her into him instantly. Burying his face in her hair, he felt at peace for the first in forever.

Bucky fell asleep that night with the love of his life in his arms, finally his again.

She was proud of him. She loved him. He was okay, all because he had her. Somehow he knew he always would.

***