#maybe just don't run a public event next time if you can't handle it

[foxxsong]

Some people... really should not be running these poll competitions.

[xpeachesncream]

2AM | one shot

summary: just like yoongi says - if namjoon wasn’t gonna act on his feelings for you, then why couldn’t you? even if that meant sliding into namjoon’s DMs.

pairing: reader x namjoon

genre: college au | sprinkle of fluff, smut

words: 3.8k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, dancing/grinding, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, hickeys, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, headboard knocking against the wall and head to the mattress type of rough sex, pillow to the face type of loud sex, backshots, namjoon is a kind fella though and really respects you

note: i’ve been hearing namjoon is/has become people’s bias wrecker lately..... 🤪 this is for you. i’ve tried to make this as realistic and relatable as possible. pls excuse any errors!

The club was awfully packed tonight, you and your friends and a bunch of all your mutual friends tightly pushed against one corner of the club, celebrating whoever's birthday it was - you couldn't fucking remember. You were just there because you knew of the person, but your friends still dragged you out to have a good time.

And, God, you were drunk. You were having a good time. You were already drunk before the club, having pissed on the sidewalk with Yoongi covering you with his jacket while Jin pissed next to you in the alley since there were no bathrooms open to the public at this time.

"Namjoon is here!" You hear Yoongi yell and nudge you. Namjoon had always had a crush on you. You two were friends, had a lot of mutual friends, but it was nothing more of a hi and bye in passing on campus. Occasional small talk, nothing more, nothing less. But, it didn't mean you didn't think he was attractive. Standing almost at 6 ft tall, the man was buff in all the right places and had a smile that could kill from miles away. You just never pressed on it because Namjoon never pressed on it. People teased him about his silly crush on you but he never took it further. He'd call you the prettiest girl he'd ever seen on campus, leaving anonymous comments on the campus' compliment board talking about how your smile was the best one he's ever seen. Everyone knew it was Kim Namjoon. But it was just a silly crush after all, right?

Tonight though, you were thinking of doing other things. Maybe it was this dick drought you had been in, maybe it was the alcohol heightening your attraction to him. Whatever the fuck it was, you wanted it and you were down.

"Aye!" Namjoon comes over to Yoongi and Jin, giving them their daps and hugs before he makes his way over to you. "What's up, Y/N?" He pulls you into a tight hug. 

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here." You chuckled.

"Why not? I like to have fun every so often, too." You nod. It's not like Namjoon hated going out, but he did have a preference of staying in than being at the club. He wasn't at every outing or club event. He'd make it to some if it was really important to his friends, but he'd usually skip out and he'd be teased about it the following week. You liked that about him; that he wasn't the type to be a partier or spend his free time chugging on alcohol. He was one of the smartest guys on campus who was pretty well known and he carried himself well. Dude could run for president and he’d have everyone’s votes, no cap.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you're glad I'm here." He joked with that smile of his, dimples piercing his cheeks before he continued his rounds of hello's.

"Well, I'm glad you're here." Jin fluttered his eyelashes as he swung back and forth, mocking your tone in tiny causing Yoongi to laugh.

"Fuck off, Seokjin." You shove him.

"Why don't you finally do something about it? You know he likes you.”

"Why does it have to be me?"

"Why can't it be you?" Yoongi asked. "Does the dude always have to make a move?"

"Yeah, and besides, what if he's only doing that because he respects you and thinks you don't like him like that?" Jin butted in.

"I didn't asked to be attacked." Yoongi shrugged.

"Just saying. It doesn't have to be on Namjoon. Maybe he's waiting on you. Don't slip up, fool." He jokes as you shake your head, leading your friends to the bar for another drink to keep your drunkness alive. Yoongi orders three shots of nasty ass Jameson, but you take it anyways because he's your homeboy and the shit was free. He asks for another round, which you almost pass on but you catch sight of your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook.

"Pass it." Yoongi smirks as he passes you another shot glass. You take it to the neck with ease, deciding you'd deal with consequences later. You just wanted to have your fun.

"Hey." Jungkook wraps his arms around you, causing you to shrug him off and push his arms away.

"Jungkook, stop." You used to hate him. You really used to despise the guy, but it had gotten so tiring that you eventually got over it and moved on. You had a good relationship after all, you had a great freshman year even if you started off college in a relationship. But, he didn't want it after a year and a half. He wanted his college freedom, wanted to explore, wanted to get to know the incoming freshmen girls and transfers. So, he eventually stopped trying and that killed you.

But myyyy, have the tables turned. Jungkook wanted you back badly even though you've made it blatantly obvious you were over him.

"Dance with me tonight? You look good." He looks at you up and down, eyeing the tight mini skirt and crop top you had on.

"Maybe.” You look at him like he was crazy. “I'm busy."

"With who?"

"Not with you."

"Come on, baby. Please." Obviously drunk and out of this mind.

"Ew, don't call me that Jungkook. I am not your baby."

"Aw come on, you’ll always be though." He smiles, hugging you once more.

"You got a whole line up, remember? Stop worrying about me." You scoff as you shove him aside, making your way back to your friends.

"The fuck was that about?"

"Jungkook being Jungkook."

"He definitely wants to have his cake and eat it, too."

"Well, that's not gonna fly with me. He needs to go."

"Good. Come on, let's go dance. Maybe Namjoon will come since you don’t wanna do it. Acting all scared and shit." 

“Shut up, Yoongi. Just walk.” You laugh. Yoongi nods towards some free space, Jin already welcoming a lady friend onto his lap for a dance. You playfully dance around with Yoongi for a little before you feel him passing you off to pretty boy Park Jimin. You loved dancing with Jimin because lord knows he knew a thing or two about rhythm more than most of these men in the club. Including your friends.

Heh, just kidding.

After a song or two, the latest shots are starting to make their way through your veins, your skin feeling hot and your balance being a little thrown off. Nothing you couldn't handle though, you still knew how to compose yourself well and keep it together.

"Enjoying yourself?" You hear Namjoon come from behind you as you had been standing around by the railings, catching a breather after Jimin had broke you off to those two songs, working up a damn sweat.

"Yeah, are you?" You turn to face him as your arms hung loosely over the railing.

"I meaaaan, I think it could be better." He sips on his drink.

"Stop babysitting your drink, Namjoon." You playfully nudge him.

"I'm not babysitting, I'm just savoring this expensive drink." You roll your eyes and laugh. You watch as he takes another sip, your hand keeping his glass tilted from the end until there's nothing left for him to drink.

"There, that's better."

"You're a bad influence."

"No, I'm not."

"You are. Pretty, and a bad influence." He adds, chuckling while licking his bottom lip. It's silent for a minute as he's eyeing the crowd in front of you, watching people sloppily dance on each other or tongue each other down. Either or, everyone was drunk and feeling up on somebody.

Everyone besides you two.

"Fuck it, let's dance." He suddenly says, grabbing your hand and leading the way to the nearest empty space. He backs himself against the wall, grabbing you by the waist to throw your ass back on him. He grips you tightly as you work him, his hips moving in tandem with yours. If you weren't mistaken, you could feel this entire thing soaking your panties by the minute. The way he had taken initiative and grabbed your hand the way that he did. The way he backed himself against the wall and shoved you onto his crotch area.

You didn't know Namjoon had it in him after he had been shying away from his crush on you. Park Jimin was sliding down the dance pyramid, with Kim Namjoon quickly climbing his way to the top.

Something so innocent had turned intimate pretty quick, your body backed against his now as you slowly worked your hips to Rossi's All I Want, your hand grabbing around his neck. You felt his breath against your skin, his eyes locked on you and only you.

After a couple of dances, you turned to him, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He gave you a big, toothless smile, his dimples becoming a huge weakness for you. You being the tease that you are, gave him a kiss on the cheek before you started to pull away from his grip.

"Oh, so it's like that?" He jokes as he bites on his bottom lip, his hands slowly slipping down your wrists the more you pull away.

"I don't know, is it?"

"You tell me. Are you going to hit me up to kick it?"

"We'll see." You smirk at him before walking towards your friends, his tongue pressed against his cheek as he watches your hips sway from side to side. After tonight, you knew you wanted Namjoon and he was the goal. No if's, and's or but's.

You and your friends call it a night by the time the club is almost coming to a close. Everyone is rushing to head out and catch their Ubers, but you see no Namjoon in sight. He must have disappeared sometime during the night, and you were too busy with your friends to notice. Which, is a fucking bummer because you wanted to see him before you left, hoping it could flourish into something more than just the dances you shared with him tonight.

You just had to be a tease.

Getting home, you're a little uneasy because you're stuck on the fact that you want something more out of the night and you couldn't get that. You hesitated quite a few times, picking up your phone, then throwing it back onto your bed. Your roommate hadn't gotten home yet, the loneliness kicking in quick.

Fuck it!

You shake your head and grow some balls to hit up Namjoon to see what he was up to at damn near 2AM.

But sike, your ass doesn't even have his number.

"What the fuck, Y/N!" You groan to yourself, quickly pulling up your group chat w/ Yoongi and Jin before you change your mind.

[y/n] 1:52am: ANYBODY HAVE NAMJOON'S NUMBER???

Pure silence for the next 5 minutes.

[y/n] 1:58am: i know none of you two are getting some tonight, where tf are you!

Some more silence.

"For fuck's sake, guys." You whined as you pulled up Namjoon's IG page. Were you really gonna do this? Were you really gonna slip yourself into his DMs?

Absolutely the fuck yes.

x_ynbaby: hi

namjoooonie: :) look who it is

x_ynbaby: sorry this prob looks stupid as fuck but i just realized i didnt have your number

namjoooonie: no biggie. at least ill be able to say y/n slid in my dm's first

x_ynbaby: pls dont start

namjoooonie: how can i help you?

x_ynbaby: what are you up to?

namjoooonie: im about to get ready for bed just like you should be doing

x_ynbaby: excuse you, im grown. i can go to bed when i want lol

namjoooonie: you're grown, ey?

x_ynbaby: yeah i am

namjoooonie: cool, come show me here?

x_ynbaby: kim namjoon, what is that supposed to mean

namjoooonie: it means you come over and watch something with me that isnt pg-13, duh? take it or leave it cutie, ive got some good comedy stand-ups on my list

x_ynbaby: lol send me the address

You laughed out loud. He was so frustratingly cute that you found yourself throwing on your jacket and heading back out to grab an Uber to his place not too far from yours. His roommate was home, but he had been locked up in his room the entire time Namjoon had gotten back. He figured he was already sound asleep, so he had you quietly come up the steps, his hand holding onto yours as you tippy-toed past his roommate's door.

"Fuck, finally. What a journey." He says, shutting his door.

"You're so dramatic."

"Says the one who was like we'll see." He mocks you, batting his eyelashes and tilting his head to the side.

"Shut up. Where's your list of comedy stand-ups, huh?" He plops on his bed, patting the empty space next to him.

"Right here." He opens his macbook. "This is where all the magic happens."

"Ah, yes. The comedy stand-ups and the porn, right?"

"Yup, especially the porn." You laugh as you playfully shove him aside. He actually begins to play Dave Chapelle's Sticks and Stones, his cute laugh already erupting and echoing throughout his room. You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your body sinking closer to his. Feeling his body against yours had the heat pooling in your core, wanting more from him while you were here. "I can't believe he—" He turns to look at you, your gaze still kept on him. "What?"

"Namjoon, I know this isn't the only thing you were thinking about tonight." You say, almost at a whisper.

"It's not, but I don't wanna disrespect you in any way." He says, in typical Namjoon fashion. You shake your head, your hand on his chest as you slightly push yourself up.

"Handle me." He simply looks at you as you nod. "Handle me like you would, all bullshit aside." He hesitates a bit, his face edging closer to yours.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. We've established that we're grown, right? Show me." You say breathily. As soon as it slips your mouth, Namjoon shoves his laptop aside to wrap his strong arms around you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. He gently lays you on his bed as he keeps his lips locked onto yours. The kiss becomes messy, your tongue continuously pushing against his, the sounds of wet kisses now filling his room. You moan into his mouth as he fiddles to remove your joggers, catching a glimpse of him finally removing them and tossing it across his neatly organized room. You pulled away for a quick second to remove his shirt before he removed yours, your hands trailing down his beautiful chest.

"Fuck, taking this off." He says, aggressively unhooking your bra and throwing it off to the side to be an eyesore along with your sweats lying on the floor. You giggle as he begins to kiss down your neck and jawline, then welcoming himself to your breasts. He plays with your nipples, his thumb toying with it and gently pinching. You let out a hiss as you feel his tongue flicking around your nipples one by one, his breath causing cold air to linger on them. You watch as he begins to suck on the skin of your breasts, leaving purple-ish marks on either boob.

"Ohhhhshit." You bite onto your bottom lip, so fucking turned on by him and his ways. He makes his way down to your panties, giving your clothed clit a kiss before shoving your panties aside and licking a strip upwards. "Ahhhhh, Namjoon." You breathe.

"Uh huh?" He says, lowering his mouth onto your clit, sucking as his tongue caressed it slowly at the same time. His mouth and tongue are continuing to work in tandem while he slips in two digits, working them in and out to stretch you out.

"Yeah, like that." You moan, your hand is gripping his hair tightly as you jut your hip upwards. Namjoon does a good job holding you down, even as your high approaches. "Ughhhhhhgggfuck!" Your words mesh together as you try to jut your hips upwards once more before you feel yourself unraveling under his grip. You tremble as you coat his fingers, moaning loudly and not giving a damn about his sleeping roommate anymore.

"Shhh, my roommate." He chuckles as he towers over you, careful not to put all his body weight on yours.

"I'm sorry but, gohhhhd." You whine. "Please just fuck me, I wanna feel you." He bites onto his bottom lip, watching you twirl your tongue around his wet digits and suck on them, giving yourself a good taste of your pussy.

"Stop." He tilts his head back and shakes his head. "You're gonna make me cum just doing that."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I haven't gotten to feel you, yet. That's what." He says as he removes his beautifully long and thick hardened member from his boxers, his sweats dropping to the floor from his ankles. He pumps himself a few times before he taps it against your folds, teasing you with his tip as he slides it up and down.

"Namjoon, I swear—" You arch your back, feining for more.

"You swear, or what?" He asks playfully, his tip the first to slowly enter inside of you. Your breathing hitches the deeper he goes in, literally having you question whether or not you were gonna be able to take him. "You okay?" You nod silently as you try to position yourself comfortably on him, Namjoon letting out a small groan as he feels you fully envelope him from wall to wall. He starts slow, making sure you were comfortable before he begins to pick up his pace. You grip the sheets as he begins to get aggressive with you, his headboard endlessly knocking on his wall.

He apparently doesn't give a fuck about his roommate either. And here he was, shushing you.

You begin to moan his name loudly, feeling the high approaching you once again.

"Y/N." He whispers, chuckling. He [politely] throws his pillow onto your head, signaling for you to hold onto it and scream into it if need be. Which, you do. "Fuuuck Y/N, you're so hot." He moans under his breath as his thrusts are fast, the sound of skin pounding against skin bouncing off of his walls.

"Joon, I'm cumming again." You moan into the pillow as he slows his thrusts for you, letting out breathy moans as he feels you constricting around him.

"Turn around." He says, you quickly obeying, shooting your ass up with your face down. You wiggle your ass onto his dick, causing him to slightly hiss. He inserts his tip in but allows you to sink onto him yourself. "Godddddamn." He moans as you begin to move your body up and down on his dick, cream lathering the top of it like icing. He gives your ass a good smack, the heat pooling to the area quickly. One hand grips your hips, while the other grips your hair and slightly tugs on it as he takes control and thrusts into you.

"Fuck! Namjoon." You groan as he pulls your hair. Your ass is bouncing off of him, the pain turning into pleasure. Your mouth is agape, no sounds being able to escape as he pounds into you.

"Shit Y/N, I'm gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum?"

"Backshot." You simply say, Joon fully understanding. With the last couple of thrusts, you find yourself constricting around him again, body getting weak and trembling back down into the sheets. His hand pushes your head into the mattress while the other pulls out and pumps his hardened dick, lathering your back in his load. You feel him almost collapse onto you, his hand holding onto your hip as he regulates his breathing.

"Fuck, I am so sorry." He says, grabbing a tissue to wipe your back.

"Why are you sorry?" You laugh as you turn over afterwards.

"It just makes me feel bad, I feel like I'm marking my territory or something."

"I meaaaaaaan." You say, Namjoon's eyes going straight to your breasts.

"Agh fuck, Y/N." He says, feeling bad as he slips on his clothes before handing you yours.

"It's not a big deal.

"I just want you to know that I do value you more than just my territory or whatever that means." He shakes his head. "Fuck, I just mean I value you more than that, okay?" You giggle.

"You're fine, Joon." He smiles toothlessly as he nods, feeling accomplished having gotten his point across.

"So, more comedy stand ups?"

"Boy, you wore me out. I'm going to sleep."

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back, gonna grab us water. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you." You smile as he shuts his door. You check your phone from your night stand seeing that your friends had finally texted you back.

[yoongi] 2:47am: woops, shit hahahah did you still need it?

[yoongi] 2:47am: and fuck off ok, what if i was getting some?

[jin] 2:49am: he's not. we're not. we just finished playing phasmaphobia thats why we responded late

[yoongi] 2:49am: youre an ass kisser seokjin

[jin] 2:50am: i think y/n is already at namjoons

[yoongi] 2:51am: better tell us about it tomorrow bro @ y/n

[jin] 2:52am: have fun be safe

[y/n] 3:30am: you guys get home from the club and play phasmaphobia? thats why you guys get none

[jin] 3:31am: r u at namjoons or not, this wasnt even about us

[y/n] 3:32am: yes and just got dicked down like the world was ending tomorrow

[yoongi] 3:33am: .........

[yoongi] 3:33am: .......................

[jin] 3:34am: 'whyyyyy does it have to be me' she said

[jin] 3:34am: dick mustve gotten your tongue now

[y/n] 3:35am: Error: 404. This number could not be reached at this time. Try again later.

[jin] 3:36am: lmfao weak, you'll hear from us later today missy

You chuckled to yourself as you heard Namjoon nearing the door. Suddenly, you hear another door open, his roommate's voice faintly echoing in the hallway.

"Dude, can you and your girl be any louder?"

"Sorry Hobi, I thought you were asleep."

"That's the thing, I was." Namjoon laughs.

"Oh shit, my bad. We'll keep it down next time." You watched as he nodded before closing the door. You laughed silently as he handed you a water bottle, scooting himself next to you.

"Yeah Namjoon, be quiet next time."

"Me? You had a pillow and you were still loud."

"Not my fault. Didn't even know you had it in you." You teased.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" He scoffed before gently tickling you.

"It's just, I thought you were forgetting about your little crush on me."

"Want me to show you again?"

"I'm sleep, bye." You laughed as you turned over, your ass comfortably touching his leg while he laid next to you and watched his show.

[sofreddie]

Scent from Above 2

Summary: The morning after.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan!Reader

ABO BINGO: Daisies/Fresh Bread/Pine

Word Count: 1,672

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Scenting, Scent Bond, Smut (Use of condoms, Knotting), Mentions of Marking/Claiming/Mating, Fluff

A/N: Attention thirsty bitches...get your cups ready. : ) Each part of this series will feature an @spnabobingo square.

PART 1

Jensen woke with a groan and a stretch. As he moved, he felt another warm body beside him. He cracked open his eyes, seeing Y/N in his arms, neither of them having moved from the night before. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched her sleeping.

Should he wake her?

Should he try to crawl from the bed and let her sleep?

He quickly remembered that she was in heat as she shifted to her back. Her scent struck him, drawing him in once more, his nose drifting to the scent gland in her neck.

He breathed deeply of her, musing on her scent. There was something flowery, like daisies. Something warm and rich, like fresh-baked bread. He breathed deeply once more, catching the earthy undertones of pine. Each layer brought on a feeling of home and warmth and familiarity.

After a few minutes, he decided that maybe he was being a little creepy, and maybe he should try to occupy himself until she's ready to wake. So he carefully removed himself from the bed and ordered breakfast via room service, not thinking it wise for them to be apart or in public in their conditions.

Jensen took a quick shower and dressed in a t-shirt and track pants just in time for the food to arrive. As he removed the lids and the aromas filled the space, Y/N stirred awake.

"Good morning," Jensen beamed at her as she shuffled into the main seating area of the suite.

"Morning," she blushed at him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her and he silently reminded himself it was only the beginning.

"Are you hungry?" he offered, gesturing to the cart, "I didn't know what you liked, so I got a little of everything."

She smiled warmly at him, "Could I take a quick shower first?" she asked, noting he already had. He nodded and silently guided her to the bathroom, watching as the door closed behind her.

He was absolutely not going to think about her naked and wet behind that door.

As he heard the shower turn on, he realized she didn't have a change of clothes with her. He quickly dug through his suitcase, finding another simple t-shirt and pants. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door lightly, but there was no response. He took a deep breath and cracked the door open just enough to place the clothes on the counter before quickly shutting it again.

Jensen had started digging into the food by the time she came out. Her hair was down and damp, her face free of the makeup she had been wearing. His clothes draped her frame and the Alpha in him felt proudly possessive.

"Thanks for the clothes," she said as she sat on the couch with a respectable distance between them. She was nervous, not sure what to expect, and distracted herself with breakfast, "I'm in another room here," she explained, "Just a few floors down."

"What room? I'll have them send up your stuff."

"What? No," she protested, "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own things."

"It's not such a good idea to go anywhere," he began hesitantly, "And I'm not really sure I could handle it if you did," he added bashfully.

She was surprised. As she showered she thought about the events of the night before. How could she not? She was sure he would politely tell her it was a mistake, it was his rut, anything really to back out of it. But here he was, seemingly still sure.

They ate in relative silence, exchanging smiles and giggles between bites of food. They were both trying to ignore the fact that their biologies were ramping up once more, their urges becoming prevalent.

"Come here," Jensen softly spoke as he tugged at her. She went willingly, letting him guide her to straddle his lap on the couch. He buried his nose in her neck once more, humming in satisfaction as he took his fill of her. She scented him in turn, slowly allowing herself to believe it was real.

He placed a wet kiss on her neck, making her moan. He did it once more, teasing the tip of his tongue and her hips involuntarily ground down against his.

He was so very hard and so very there.

A moan slipped past his lips and Y/N shuttered. It was the most erotic sound she'd ever heard and she felt a swell of pride at being the one to bring it from him. She did it again, slowly and more purposefully this time, teasing them both.

"You want that, Omega?" he breathily asked as he ground up against her core, his hands squeezing her hips.

"So much, Alpha," she replied, before kissing him hard. Jensen responded eagerly, opening his mouth for her as she introduced her tongue. He moaned again, her hips now steadily working against him.

Their clothes were quickly shed, each piece being thrown without care as they bared themselves to one another.

"Condom?" she asked bashfully as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Jensen blindly retrieved one, his face buried in Y/N's breasts as he licked and sucked at her supple flesh. He held it up to show her, still preoccupied. She chuckled and took it from him, opening it with her teeth.

"Wait," he said, finally lifting his head from her chest to meet her eyes after she rolled the condom down his shaft, "Don't you want me to-" his fingers strayed to her core and she shook her head adamantly.

"No," she breathed, "Just you."

She shifted her hips and sunk down on his length with a long moan. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her tightly to him. The breath was punched out of him. She surprised him, he wasn't ready. But at the same time, he was so fucking ready.

Hell, he was ready to take her and claim her in the alleyway last night.

After they both adjusted, he loosened his hold, keeping his arms securely around her. She pulled back to look into his eyes as she began to move, sliding slowly up and down. Her jaw dropped open, the sensation of his thick girth pushing and stretching against her walls amazingly perfect.

Jensen almost couldn't stand the intensity, the intimacy of her gaze. This was quickly becoming the sappiest moment of his life and he couldn't complain one bit.

"J-Jay," she breathed out, adjusting her hips to a new angle and pressing her chest against his. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her calling his name. He groaned and went straight for her neck. After a good long scent, he opened his mouth, licking a line before clamping his lips down to suck a dark mark.

She cried out, her hips jerking, and he thrust up in response, sucking harder.

"D-don't claim me," she stuttered, riding him hard for the both of them.

"Not this time," he reluctantly agreed with a smirk.

He wanted to. God did he want to. He knew she was his and he was hers. But he also knew that she needed time to adjust. That she wasn't ready. That she wanted it but hadn't fully let herself believe it. He'd give her all the time she needed.

She panted as she rode him and he thrust up into her. He couldn't get the angle or speed that he wanted. And he wanted to be deeper. With a frustrated snarl, he wrapped his arms around her and dropped her on her back on the couch swiftly, still buried inside her.

She gasped and he plunged hard, knocking her body up the couch a few inches.

"Yes!" she cried out desperately, her nails digging into his shoulders. He growled and gave her all he had, riding them hard through their highs.

His knot popped and his teeth ached as his eyes locked onto her pulse beating rapidly beneath the taut skin of her neck. Feeling himself lose control, he turned his head, biting down into the couch cushion and growling as he emptied himself into the condom.

His teeth didn't release the pillow until his body calmed and he felt the urge pass. He immediately buried his face in her neck, lapping against the dark purple mark he'd left earlier, his mind letting him pretend it was his claim.

They spent the next few days in much the same fashion until her heat and his rut had finally passed.

"Stay just one more night with me?" he asked as she came out of the bathroom in her own clothes. Jensen ended up having her things delivered after all, "My flight's pretty early in the morning. But we can spend one more night," he pleaded, his hands on her waist as she shouldered her Winchester Bros. branded weekend bag.

He didn't miss the opportunity to playfully rib her over it either.

"I can't, Jay," she pouted. She had quickly adopted the nickname for him and he was thrilled with how comfortable she grew around him in such a short amount of time. He did his best all weekend to show - and say - just how much he wanted her and how sure about them he was.

"If you let me claim you we could take Mate Leave," he grinned.

She playfully slapped his shoulder and scolded him, "I just want both of us to be totally sure before making such a permanent commitment," she said for the umpteenth time that weekend.

"Next time then," he joked, wiggling his brows, "I stole one of your shirts, FYI," he added, blushing, "I think I'd go insane if I didn't have your scent around me."

"I guess that's okay," she said, "'Cause I took one of yours too," she looked to the ground bashfully. He laughed before cupping her face and kissing her hard.

"We'll find a way to see each other soon," he promised.

PART 3

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@deanjensenficsandart

@woodworthti666

@charred-angelwings

[shedobewritingalittle]

Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes.  She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

-

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound.  So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through.  Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

-

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

-

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else. 

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

Not A Team taglist (if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

@lady-elena-adeline​ @simonedk​ @hersilencedscreams​ @rqmanoff​

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 

 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 

“NOW, Leo!” 

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

[mrsedmercer]

Steamy Love (A Tom Hiddleston x Reader) Part 28:~Lonliness~

Summary: You and Tom have officially split, and neither of you are able to handle it.

Warnings: Sad angst. Probably some misinformation about BAFTA Film Gala 2019 but this is a fictional story so lmao

Read it on my Wattpad: Wattpad.com/HiddlesStar

Word count: 1244

Tags: @theoneanna @midnightdragonzero @drakesfiance @kcd15 @ihthr @deviantsendbyreallife @bookgirlunicorn @cherrygeek86 @peachlobotomy666

You were home. After a few days of packing, moving, a lot of crying and unpacking, you were home. Only, it didn't feel like it. You've been going to bed a little colder, waking up with the bed a little lighter, making your breakfast a little smaller and your smile was faker. You weren't in the mood to stream or go out or hang out with a friend. You didn't want to go back to your favourite hang out spots, stores or food joints. All you've been doing for the few weeks you've been home was sitting around in silence, or sobbing.

The truth is, you were back in your house, but you weren't home. You are not at home.

Your home is gone. You burned it down. Not intentionally, but you made those jabs about his money. You should've denied the jokes from your friend. You should've defended him, but you chose not to.

You went with it, and now you're alone.

You've been trying to reach out for months. He won't reply to your texts, and when you call you always immedietly goto voicemail. You can't even bare to listen to his voicemail now, or his voice in general. It hurts to see things about him, to hear or hear about him and think about him. Your fans don't even really know that you two have split. You haven't been active with fans online or made any public updates. You lurk on some platforms sometimes, but you keep seeing posts about your relationship with him. How you two are the 'perfect couple', 'relationship goals', 'an iconic duo's.

It hurts.

It hurts your heart so much. You just want to be close again. You want to sleep in his arms. You want to feel him slip out of bed early in the morning to go on a run, then feel him lay back down with you before you're supposed to wake up. You want to cook him breakfast and see his smile when he looks at you.

You want to be at peace. You want to be at home.

You'd do anything for a second chance.

...

But you recognize that you have to move on eventually. You may have liked Tom, maybe even loved him, but things can change like this. People can change. Maybe this was just a sign that it would not have worked out if you left with him, as much as you may have wanted to. Maybe you would've argued a lot. Maybe one of you would always be too busy for one another. You really don't know, but as unlikely as it seems now, you're not going to be sulking about this forever. You'll have to move on eventually, whether by dating another man or getting support from your friends and family. You'll move on, and maybe find new happiness. A new home.

It will take a lot of work and patience, but it can be done. You've gone through this before...So, why is it harder?

What's worse, is that you have to go to the UK next week anyways. You were going to some sort of film event with a friend. It seemed to be a big deal, and you were nervous about running into him. Your friend said it was unlikely, though. He's probably too bust with rehearsals or something.

...

Right?

Poor Tom was going through something similar back in the UK. He's back with his canine companion and all of his books, but he's hardly smiled since he's been home. He's done some crying himself. He's missed holding a body in bed. He hasn't even been in the mood for breakfast. Amanda's been calling, so he's just been ignoring his phone entirely to avoid her and everyone else. He doesn't want to go out with buddies for a drink, and he only ever leaves the house to walk his dog or goto rehearsal. As hurt as he was, he misses you.

While he's come back to his house and his dog, he's not home. He left his home alone, and it was taken away. It disappeared.

His heart has been aching for days over you. He keeps thinking about how he should've let you spoken, let you explain yourself. He should've gone back for you the next day. He should've texted or called you. Anything. Now, it seems like it's too late to reach out. You live in different countries, and you're both going to be very busy these next couple months. Who knows if you'd get any time together? Everything just seems so uncertain now. He misses having you, hearing you laugh, making mad love to you and seeing you sleep so peacefully afterwards. His bed feels so light and empty at night now adays. The loneliness creeps into his heart even when it's been a good day. He can't take this, but it seems like there's nothing he can do. He'll just have to move forward. Move on, and in time, he'll be able to think of the good memories without a pain in his chest. Besides, he has an important event to goto next week. He's got the BAFTA Film Gala to attend. He's been nervous to go out the way he is, but at least there's not much of a chance to run into you.

After a couple days, you and your friend took the trip up to the UK, getting to stay in a rather nice hotel for a couple days until the night of the event. You both had rather nice outfits ready, and you even got some photographers at the event hounding you both on the main carpet. You were really starting to feel like a film star. The night was off to a great start so much, you had nearly forgotten about--

"Tom, over here!"

You turned your head when you heard the name, looking further down the carpet. Of course. Of fucking course, he's here, being hounded by many other photographers. More than what you had. Some on your side even moved over to his side. The carpet wasn't too long, but you felt far enough to be able to look at him for a while without him noticing. You wondered if he had noticed you yet. You certainly noticed him right away. He was looking real fine in that tux...

You couldn't think about this sort of thing. You feel like you're back at square one, admiring Tom from a fair distance while he's barely acknowledged you. You felt sick to your stomach, and your friend noticed, gently taking your arm.

"Come on, (Y/N)." They spoke. "Let's go inside..".

As you followed them, Tom had glanced over at your direction, though you had faced away before he got a chance to see if it was really you. Maybe it was just someone else with the same name.

As he walked into the building with more of the attendees, he felt an anxious pit in his stomach. Hearing your name, whether or not it was you, made him just want to go home. He couldn't possibly begin to imagine how he'd feel and react if you were ACTUALLY here in the UK, after such a fuss over you moving here in the first place. That might just anger him again, or maybe he'd be thankful. Maybe he'd cry again.

Though, that's extremely unlikely, in his opinion. There no plausible way you're here tonight...

Right?