#she went from stealing glances to staring shamelessly

[lovenonymously]

How it started:

How it's going:

[myouicieloz]

As you dance

Huh Yunjin x itzy6thmember!reader

Synopsis: Yunjin didn’t know you knew how to dance. That was, until she saw you wasted at an after party, laughing and moving your body along with the neon lights.

Warnings: nsfw, …? Idk what else. drinking, perhaps. smut. sub!yunjin x dom!reader.

Word count: 5.8 k.

Notes: I AM BACK ONCE AGAIN! And Idk what I did here. It just kept going. I think I’m getting better at writing smut, though! This was way more comfortable to write than my previous one (which I’m working on part 2 already!!). I did check for spelling errors and everything in general (yay!), but if there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable lmk so I can change it. that’s it enjoy!! muah kisses ily my loves. ps: Yn is part of itzy but I think I’ve made it general enough you can imagine any gg you’d like, kind of. But itzy rocks.

Yunjin stared shamelessly as you danced around with your bandmates at the secret afterparty you were all attending. She watched as you swayed your hips along with the rhythm of the music and twirled your friends around, laughing when one of them lost balance and almost fell to the ground. To her, the way you moved around was completely indecent, for God’s sake. It made everyone stare at you, in awe. She hated that— so many eyes on you. She should be the only one.

Yunjin doesn’t know why she assumed you weren’t good at it. maybe by the way you talked about yourself, always saying how you hated to dance and were always behind your bandmates in choreography, looking too out of place to blend in. She should’ve known you were, as always, just insecure.

She had seen you dance before, of course. You were good with the choreography you were given, even if it wasn’t always your style. But to see you dance so freely… It was truly a sight.

To others, however, you were enjoying yourself and having fun with your friends, but Yunjin knew better— knew you better. It was a clear challenge, she could tell by the way your hands ventured to your chest, mostly exposed by your top’s neckline. The subtle looks she’d send you across the room, every time your hands touched your best friends’, the one your stupid fans were always shipping you with, waist, were meant to defy her; provoke her.

It had made Yunjin so horny it hurt. She clenched her thighs, hoping for some kind of relief, but it did nothing to ease the burning sensation building up in her core.

Thankfully, the next set of songs were ones you disliked, so you excused yourself from your friends and neared the bar, taking a break. Yunjin didn’t waste any time following you, sending hard glances to the people who motioned to greet you before she was by your side. As if she’d ever let them steal your attention from her.

"I didn't know you could dance," Yunjin casually told you, leaning against the balcony. Her tone was light, making it seem like a simple observation, attempting to mask the fact that simply watching you dance had made her incredibly turned on.

Your moves were experienced, almost obscene. And the micro skirt you wore had you looking irresistible, shining like a beacon in the middle of the damn dance floor. It made her want to snatch you up and fuck you right in the restrooms, for everybody to hear you screaming her name, simply to get rid of that smug smile on your face.

You weren’t hers, though. The two of you were merely friends, so her actions were resumed to her wettest, dirtiest dreams.

"You assumed that, unnie,” you replied, after catching your breath for a few seconds. Your cheeks were flustered from the alcohol, and the dance had messed your hair up even more, making the curls run towards all places. You looked wild, free. Alive. Yunjin would definitely write about you once she went home. She could already plot the verses in her head. "I said I didn't like it, and I don't," you continued, picking up the drink the waiter had handed you and thanking him with a bow and a small smile. "But it's fun, sometimes. I did ballet for quite a while, remember? I know a few things."

A few things.

You turned to her, taking a step so you’d be closer. Her eyes were beautiful, all bright and expressive, and you so hoped to get to be someone special in her life. You’d grown used to talking to her over the last weeks, after you asked for her number at an award ceremony. You two texted all the time, and told each other just about everything: she had told you about the hard time she had at produce 48, then the frustration when she decided to give up the trainee life and go to college; the insecurity she faced after finally living her dream, constantly wondering if she was enough, if she was worthy of all of this wonder. You, on the other hand, shared about your family; how your mother and grandmother, mostly, coerced you into dancing, specially ballet, and how you absolutely loathed it. You told her that you tried out for JYP with one of your best friends at the time, who you admired so much and was such an inspiration to you. Yunjin was the only one who knew how surprised you were when you got in, and she didn’t. And how her coldness and rudeness towards you broke your heart. You two knew so many profound things about each other, but it was so awkward to stare at her personally. Yunjin, who knew the raw version of you, who knew each and every one of your nightmares, and still wanted to be friends.

To you, it was embarrassing how much you knew about her. Each time you spoke, you took an effort not to reveal anything she hadn’t told you yet. About her hobbies, her sister… you knew it all. And you so desperately wanted her to notice you. To truly see you much you desired her.

Oblivious, the two of you. Both playing a game of hide and seek with your feelings, afraid you’d scare each other and make one run away.

She was taken by surprise by your movements, but quickly recovered and took a step towards you herself. She grabbed a strand of your hair, admiring the way the curls fell so graciously into place, adorning your delicate face.

“You look beautiful today.” She thought better, frowning slightly. “Every day, actually.”

You smiled at her, not thinking much of it, but before you could thank her, Kazuha showed up, jumping up and down.

“Yunjin unnie! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” She stopped to acknowledge you, still moving frantically. “Hello Yn! You look so, so pretty!”

“So I’ve told her,” Yunjin mumbled, as you nudged her and thanked Kazuha, this time.

“Thank you, Zuha. Did you take too many Red Bulls again?” She nodded, as if the ground was sending electric waves into her body.

“Only two, Yn-ah!” She did the number 2 with her fingers before turning to Yunjin. “Chaewon unnie says we have to go. We have rehearsals tomorrow morning, remember? We can’t be tired.” Kazuha explained, gripping the girl’s arm as she tried to drag her towards the rest of the bandmates. Yunjin stood frozen, though. There was no possibility she’d leave you here, not when everyone was staring at you like they were just waiting for an opportunity to snatch you and take you home.

They wouldn’t dare. Taking you from her was not a possibility.

“I can’t go, Zuha.” Yunjin said, looking at you sneakily so the ballerina would, hopefully, get the hint. Kazuha furrowed her brows, confused.

“Why not, unnie?” She kept looking at you, then at yunjin, trying to understand.

“I can’t.”

You felt like you were intruding, but you couldn’t let Yunjin go, either. You put your hands on her other arm, asking her softly, “Is everything ok? You look a bit pale. I can go if you'd like, the girls are probably looking for me anyw—“

“No!” Both girls exclaimed, making you take your arms off the older girl, taken aback by their intensity. Yunjin eyed Kazuha before turning back to you, annoyed to not have your full attention anymore. Her thoughts were racing, and you’d given her the perfect cue: she wasn’t going to waste it. Clinging onto you, she grabbed your tiny waist, burying her face in your neck since you knew she was a terrible liar. Yunjin was tall herself, so she was constantly towering over people, but you were two, maybe three inches taller than her, which had always pleased her.

“Actually, I don’t think I feel so good, Yn. Perhaps you could come with us to the dorm? The girls sleep like rocks, and I’m afraid I’ll start to get nauseous, and I’ll be all alone because they never wake up.” She pleaded, making her voice crack so it would look real. Yunjin did feel a little bad for lying so bluntly to you, but she wouldn’t leave you alone at the club for everyone to have you.

She felt cold hands being pressed on her neck and her forehead, making her shiver. She could only think how it would feel to have those same hands pressing slightly into her pulse point, as she was pounded by behind—

“You really are a bit hot,” she heard you say, and it took all of her strength not to laugh. “And shivering. Why did you come? You should’ve gone straight home.”

To see you.

“Yes! Please come with us, Yn! Yunjin is always talking about how you take such good care of your bandmates when they drink too much! You should care of unnie, too.” Zuha said, picking up on her friend’s act. She shamelessly winked at the girl, but you didn’t even notice, too busy staring at your feet at the thought of Yunjin talking about you to her friends.

“Apparently, not so much,” You frowned, realizing your bandmates were no longer on the dance floor. They often drank over their heads, and you were always worrying they wouldn’t pass out in a chair or do something reckless. “Yeji is probably up to something somewhere, and Lia’s too sweet when she’s drunk. Now I’ve lost them.” You mumbled, truly thorn between the pretty girl in your arms and your bandmates. Sensing your hesitation, Yunjin gave your waist a reassuring squeeze, which you pretended not to be affected by.

“We’ll find them and ask about it, ok? I’ll survive on my own if they’re too bad themselves.” She assured you, making you feel lighter. You nodded, and soon the trio started searching for your friends through the club.

-

Turns out you were right, after all. Yeji was as red as a tomato, laughing at Chaeryoung who had just tripped over the chair. Lia was flirting with someone you couldn’t see clearly in the dark, and Yuna looked in her own world besides Ryujin, downing shots by herself. Surprisingly, Ryujin was cool, watching the whole scene with a small smile as she sipped on her drink. She frowned at the sight of Yunjin clinging to you and Kazuha jumping on your other side, but her smile quickly became malicious as she noticed the older girl’s hands on your waist. You shook your head, mouthing her to stop.

Yunjin simply didn’t see you like this, no matter how much you wanted her to.

“We were looking for you,” she said, over the music, as soon as you were near enough to hear. Yeji had taken Kazuha for a dance, and now they were both in a jumping contest, apparently. Yunjin didn’t catch the way your friend’s voice dropped an octave, but you certainly did, “But you were busy, I see.”

“Yunjin is not feeling so good,” You clarified, giving her your best, stop trying to suggest things that didn’t happen stare. Ryujin new about your crush and how you and Yunjin texted all the time, and had always tried to convince you that the girl liked you as much as you liked her.

“I asked her to go home with us, to take care of me.” Yunjin explained, squeezing your waist again. She liked the way you tensed around her hands when she first did it, momentarily closing your eyes to regain your focus, “Because she always takes such good care of you, when you guys are not feeling so good. But she was wary of leaving you here alone.”

“Nonsense! We were actually looking for you to go home, too. It’s getting late anyway. You should take care of Yunjin-sunbaenim.” Ryujin approved, giggling. She motioned to the girls, pushing the two of you. “Get better! Rest well.” She wished Yunjin, and you wanted to kill her for laughing. Yunjin, who was having the time of her life clinging onto you, sighed as she saw Kazuha’s energy. She motioned to let go of you to get her friend, but you tightened your grip, instead and reaching for the ballerina yourself.

You said goodbye to the rest of your bandmates, explaining them you’d spend the night at Lesserafim’s dorm, and they promptly wished Yunjin a speed recovery, clearly too drunk to think much of it. In a few minutes, you were in a van with the rest of Yunjin and Kazuha’s members. They were such dears, and you already knew so much about them because of Yunjin, so thankfully the atmosphere was calm, with all the girls tired from the busy day and the party.

“It’s so cool that you’re sleeping over, Yn-unnie! Yunjin unnie talks about you all the time.” Eunchae had excitedly said, making everyone laugh. Yunjin stared at the window, muttering that the maknae was lying, but the blush in her face was proof enough.

“Yn will be busy taking care of Yunjin, though, Manchae,” Chaewon said, knowing exactly what her friend was up to. “Yunjin might even puke.” She joked, earning a general ‘ewwww!’ from the girls, and a laugh from you.

You saw that Yunjin was still with her head on the window, so you poked her to get the girl’s attention.

“You shouldn’t be looking at the window so much if you’re dizzy,” you gently pushed her head to rest on your shoulder, which she did. “I did that once after drinking and puked in our dorm’s parking lot.” You frowned, remembering how you didn’t even drink too much that day, but still ended up sick.

“That’s gross.” She said, laughing and focusing on your lap, instead. She grabbed your hands, playing with your fingers to distract herself from the fact that you had really accepted to take care of her.

Yunjin kept reminding herself she was your friend, nothing else. She couldn’t risk making a move on you and having to handle your rejection. She wouldn’t dare. Friends.

The van stopped to drop Sakura and Eunchae at their dorm, and Sakura smiled at you before leaving.

“Take care of her, Yn. Yunjin gets really whiny when she’s not feeling good.” She said, with playful eyes. Yunjin looked like she was at a staring contest with the oldest, but let her go with a sigh.

“Goodnight to you too, unnie.” She mumbled, a pout on her lips.

Soon, you were in Chaewon, Kazuha and Yunjin’s dorm, and you took a good look at it before going to Yunjin’s room. It was spacious, neat and very light, just like the girls. Chaewon and Kazuha bid you goodnight before retreating to their rooms, after giving Yunjin a hug.

When you entered her bedroom, she was riffling through her drawers, looking for something. You examined her room, too, as you’ve never been to her dorm before. There were plenty of posters on her walls, and a collage of polaroids hanging just beside her full-length mirror. You smiled, spotting the one you took at Music Bank, when you stumbled briefly across each other as you were running late— both of you looking flustered but with big smiles.

“It’s one of my favorites.” You’ve heard her say, behind you. “I just wished we had more pictures together.”

You turned to see her in a big T-shirt and small shorts, another set of clothes in her hands. You took it from her and quickly undressed from your sparkly skirt and black top, not bothering to go to the bathroom — you were friends, after all.

“We could go out more and take pictures, if you weren’t so busy all the time.” You whined, as she shook her head and threw herself in her bed, making sure to leave space for you.

“As if you weren’t busy yourself.” She answered, although her tone was still playful.

You left her room to get her a set of water and some painkillers — for if she had a headache from the drinks, and quickly came back. You wished she was in your room instead, so you could dote on her better.

“Do you have painkillers? And snacks?” You asked, standing still as she grabbed your arms to pull you to bed. You let her have her way, eventually, but scoffed as she hugged you close. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, unnie.” You reminded her, making the older girl giggle.

“You are taking care of me just by being here, Yn.” She said, sniffling your perfume. Seeing your glare, she sat on the bed, reaching out to her nightstand, “See? I’ve got the painkillers already, and there are some more in the bathroom. I’ve got some for nausea, too, but I don’t think I’ll take them. I think what was getting me all messed up were the lights and the loud music after having a full day of recording and rehearsing.” and seeing all of those people wanting you. Yunjin wanted to say.

She wouldn’t, though. She didn't intend to scare you away.

Yunjin finally relaxed, lying against her headboard as she closed her eyes and sighed. She didn’t fully lie to you when she said she didn’t feel so good back at the club. The group was going on a rollercoaster of rehearsals, promotions, photoshoots, and the anxiety of whether people were going to accept them or not. She was always feeling like she wasn’t good enough, and her exhaustion — both physical and mental — was starting to get her.

You embraced her, kissing her hair as you ran your fingers through the way you knew she liked it. The touch soothed her, and you slowly felt her relaxing.

“You’ll do great, Jen. All of you.” You told her, holding her a little bit tighter to reassure her of it. “You’re more than worthy, too. You’re talented, kind, and beautiful in all the ways that are possible. There’s simply no possibility of your fans not falling in love with you, with what you’ll inspire them with.” like I have.

It pained you that she didn’t believe in her herself, the years of training and not being chosen making her insecure. You wished she could see herself like you see her.

You two stayed like that for a while, with Yunjin tracing circles in your shirt and you running your hands through her hair and her upper-back, as if you’ve been doing this forever. You noticed her desk, all messy with empty cups and a pile of crumpled papers that also filled the small trash can on its side.

“You’ve been writing again.” You commented, feeling her tense for a second before she stared at the desk, too. She’d always told you about her songs, and you loved listening to her talk about their meaning for hours when you were facetiming. It did upset you a little that she hadn’t shown you any of her latest works, but you understood: with both of you so busy, it was hard to share stuff like that in such little time.

Forcing herself to relax, Yunjin tried to sound careless as she shrugged. “They’re not finished yet, not even the first chorus. I just have the melody and a few words that don’t make sense at all. I’ll show them to you when it’s not… you know, a total mess.”

I can’t show you the lyrics because they are all about you.

You mumbled an “okay”, happy to be included in her life.

“Are you feeling better?” Yunjin nodded, and you continued, “We should watch a movie. The girls and I always watch something to sleep when we’re drunk, but not too drunk to simply pass out in our beds.” You explained, and she grabbed her laptop to abide to your wishes.

“Good idea.” She smiled, typing her password. “Disney movies?” You loved those, so you smiled brightly at her.

“Disney movies.”

-

You did try to watch the movie, but you’d never sleep while Yunjin was by your side. You could feel her breath hovering and the subtle glances she’d send you while she thought you were focused on the movie. It was too much, to be around her so close and still not be able to truly touch her like you wanted to, and the feeling of not having her for yourself started to suffocate you. You paused “The emperor’s new groove”, hearing her protests as you shut the notebook down.

“Do you feel better?” Your polite tone didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you cut her before she even had the chance to answer, “Because I think I should go. We also have a tight schedule tomorrow and I don’t want to intrude your dorm either, so maybe it’s best if I—“

“Wait!” Yunjin said, exasperated. She took a deep breath before speaking, clutching her hands. “No, I don’t feel better. I need something.”

And she kissed you.

Her touch was hungry and intense, as she gathered her hands to your face, scared you’d push her away and tell her you hated her, or that you didn’t like her like that. However, her worries subsided when you immediately corresponded, starved for her touch yourself. Yunjin only pulled away when there was no air anymore, and rested her forehead on yours.

“Please, please don’t go.” She pleaded, pecking your lips delicately, almost unsure. You melted, surrendering to her as you’ve only dreamed of doing.

“I won’t.” You promised, finally kissing her back. “I’ll do whatever you want, Jen.” And you truly would, if she such as whispered for you to.

You pushed her back onto the bed, sitting on top of her without placing your whole weight on her abdomen. Your fingers toyed with her shirt as you occupied yourself with sucking her lips, ravishing her taste. Yunjin tasted like cherries, such as her perfume and her favorite lip-gloss— the one you’ve taken so much effort not to stare at whenever she applied it around you, not wanting to make it obvious.

“Are you really good, though?” You murmured, searching for any signs of drunkness or discomfort in her eyes as you’ve distanced yourself to take a proper look at her: beautifully settled on her bed, with messy hair from the making out and her mouth slightly bruised, marked in a deep crimson that also adorned her cheeks. She was so beautiful, like a painting.

You never wanted to forget such a sight.

Yunjin took your hands, her touch strong and decided as she stared at you with her big eyes, her tone nothing but serious.

“I’m perfectly fine, Yn.” She giggled a little when she realized she was caught in her lie, but her expression quickly went serious again. “I want you. I think I’ve wanted you for a while, actually…” she was shy, tracing circles in the palm of your hands as she took another big breath to steady herself. “I like you. I really, really like you. And it’s ok if you don’t like me back, either. I’m sorry I kissed you so suddenly but I jus—“

You silenced her with another kiss, laughing it through to shake the urge to cry from relief. You truly couldn’t believe she felt that way towards you, not when you’ve been trying so hard to be her friend, worried to fuck it all up.

“I like you too.” You answered, trailing kisses down her face as you made your way to her exposed neck, “I’ve wanted you since the first time we talked, at that stupid music award.” She was moaning under you, as wet as the kisses you placed on her fair skin, and you couldn’t get enough of her. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You licked her neck, sucking and marking it to your liking as you felt Yunjin’s fingers grab your hair, pushing you down with urgency. You laughed, stopping completely to admire her desperate face.

“Do you want me down here, baby?” You murmured in her ear, cupping her cunt through her shorts and feeling how wet she was. It pleased you to get those sensations from her body, and her whines aroused you even more; you could feel yourself so wet from simply kissing her, too.

“Please, Yn.” She pleaded, humping herself against your hand to try to have more friction, anything against her pussy to have her relief. “Please f-fuck me.”

You wanted to have her completely at your mercy, a mess of whimpers and begs until she was crying out your name so loud for all the neighbors to hear. But she looked so exasperated— almost in pain, when you weren’t touching her, so you quickly decided to give her whatever she wanted you to. To adore her body as much as you adored her soul.

“Very well, then.” You quickly got rid of her clothes, lowering yourself where she needed you the most, but Yunjin got up before you could move, placing her hands on your shoulders.

You shot her a glare, stopping to see if she wanted for you to cease completely, but she clumsily tried to take out your shirt instead, her neediness making you smile. You intercepted her, locking her wrists gently in front of her before kissing her jaw. “Try again, princess? Talk to me, this time.”

She looked away from your stare, embarrassed by how the nickname aroused her and how hot you looked, towering over her frame as you corrected her. She tried again, this time, tone unsure as her long fingers plucked the ends of your shirt.

“Take yours off too, please?” You smiled at her gentleness, stripping for her as you made her lie down once again.

“Good job, babe.” You placed yourself between her thighs, loving to see how she shivered at every deep breath you took, the breeze reaching her aching pussy as she clenched her muscles to try to get some relief.

You gathered her slick from her slit and used it to rub on her clit softly, with barely enough pressure, but it was enough for her to moan loudly, closing her eyes to maximize the feeling. It encouraged you to keep going, tracing faster circles in her clit as you kissed and sucked on her thighs as you wished.

“Fuck, Jen. You’re so beautiful like this.” You murmured, watching her lost in pleasure as you entered her with one finger. She lost her air, and you let your hands hover through her body before giving her your thumb to suck on, which she gladly did.

Having her displayed like that, bare and so responsive to your touch, was heavenly, so special. It was greater than you’d ever imagined it.

You added a second finger in her soaked entrance, but she was still whining as she stared at you with her hazel eyes.

“What do you want, love?” You asked, taking your hand from her mouth. “Say it, and it’s yours.” You didn’t ease your rhythm, still going in and out as you touched her clit now slowly, wanting to build the pleasure rather from taking it from her so fast.

It was difficult for Yunjin to think: her whole body was on fire, and you kept talking so sweetly her head was a mess of nothing and everything and the way you touched her was just so good, making her so full, but at the same time, she needed more.

“Just take a deep breath and the words will come up, babe.” She was reminded by you, as your hands gripped her thighs in the gentlest way you could, grounding her back.

She did as told, taking a couple seconds to gather herself.

“I-fuck” She let out a loud pitch she so wished Kazuha hadn’t heard as you curled your fingers inside her, reaching a spot that made her see little starts in her ceiling. “I n-need your mouth.” Yunjin frowned when you didn’t comply with her immediately, vaguely annoyed before she remembered, “Please, Yn. I want y-you down.”

You smiled against her cunt, giving it a long lick as you watched her shake strongly.

“You’re learning, Jen. We’ll get you all obedient soon enough.” You murmured, and Yunjin wanted to ask you further about it, but your mouth finally made contact with her cunt, your tongue entering her hole along with your fingers, making her curl her toes, drunk in pleasure.

Yunjin’s moans were delicious to hear, now more than ever, as she had given up on being silent for the girls not to hear. Surely, they expected it. She’d make up to them later, buy Kazuha a new plushie and Chaewon that purse she was whining so much to get all week. For now, the only thing that mattered was your mouth and fingers on her, making her so full and loved it hurt.

Your mouth let her slit to give attention to her clit, licking it fast as you alternated it with moving your tongue in zigzag to maximize her pleasure. You had Yunjin feel her pleasure come to her in a strong wave, clenching furiously as you gripped her hips to hold her into place. With a high cry, she came, and you kept fingering her until she came down from her high, her bare chest going up and down fast to steady her heartbeats.

“That was strong.” You murmured, taking your hands off her pussy to lie down next to her. “Are you okay?” You asked, cupping her cheek as she gave you a small nod. You tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears, to keep it away from her face. Yunjin’s face was adorned with a thin coat of sweat, and she reached for you to taste herself.

“I’m okay. So okay, thank you.” She hugged you, now clingier than ever, and you embraced her tightly as she relaxed, kissing you slowly as she ravished her own salty taste in your mouth.

You thought she’d sleep, too worn out from the whole day, but you felt her fingers teasing your thighs soon enough, brushing at your cunt gently.

“Jen, you don’t have to—“ You stood half-up to look her in the eyes, protesting.

She wasn’t looking at your face, though. Her eyes were focused on your body, drinking every inch of it with lust. Only after a minute she stared back at you, with a pout.

“I want to touch you, too. You’ve made me feel so good, Yn.” She said, giving you her best puppy eyes. “Let me make you feel good, please?”

Never denying her anything, you positioned yourself between her thighs, so she could have better access to your pussy. You couldn’t resist touching her, even though she was the one giving you pleasure, so you’ve placed quick kisses on her chest, making your way to her hardened nipple as you sucked on it.

She moaned loudly at the feeling of your hot mouth against her skin, her fingers losing rhythm on your clit as she tried to wriggle out of your touch. You placed both of your hands on her hips, gently forcing her into place.

“It’s not fair, Yn-ah.” Yunjin complained, as you laughed. You guided her hand back to your cunt before lowering yourself against her again, as she got her focus back on you.

“You’re a smart girl, Jen. You can keep your focus.” You smirked, sucking as your other hand left her hips to squeeze her other breast. “That’s it, baby. You’re—fuck, you’re doing so good. You’re so good with your fingers.” You praised her as Yunjin glowed at it, gaining rhythm as her thumb applied pressure on your hardened bud each time she thrusted in your pussy.

She was skilled with her fingers, the ones you’ve daydreamed to have knuckles deep in you so many times before, when she played for you through your FaceTime calls, and you were quick to have your pleasure building up on your lower abdomen, already so aroused from her reactions to your touches and just the sight of her at all.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna c-cum.” You sucked harder, both of you moaning together as you arched your back, reaching your high. She pulled you towards herself, kissing you passionately as you corresponded with equal fervor, grabbing her closer until there wasn’t a single molecule between you.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Yunjin told you, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your neck. She made herself busy there, making sure to mark you as you’ve done to her. So everyone would know who you belonged to.

“Lucky for you, Huh Yunjin.” You said, feeling fully loved and complete by being by her side. “I can’t seem to get enough of you, either.”

Now, every time you danced, Yunjin wouldn’t be bitter anymore: she knew where you’d be looking. Your eyes would always be on her.

-

“Unnie, why do you have such a thick scarf on? It’s barely autumn yet.” Eunchae was the first to speak as Yunjin entered the van, late as they were making their way to the company for rehearsals.

“And the glasses, too. There’s no sun, unnie.” Kazuha motioned to her face, trying to mask her laugh, as Eunchae got even more riled up, babbling about the weather and her worries towards her unnie.

Yunjin only shushed the younger girl, brushing her hand in her mouth to make her stop talking so loudly.

“Quiet, Manchae. Unnie is sick, remember? I think I drank too much last night. I’m hangover.” She managed to say it seriously, making the maknae finally tone herself down. The girls were laughing freely now, but Yunjin only glared at them in hopes they’d stop teasing, too tired to argue it out.

“You guys are ridiculous.” She muttered, ignoring the kissing sounds they were making, like 5th graders.

Yunjin couldn’t help but smile, though. And to think about you. Her songs were definitely going to be finished as soon as she got home again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 2)

A/N: okay okay part 2! here we are!! my progress about the story is not as fast as i would like it but im trying my best!! feedback is always appreciated!

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry has thought of seeing you again so many times in the past months, he imagined this moment when he lied in bed, counting the days until he meets you again after all this time, but seeing you in real life is nothing like his daydreams. 

You’ve changed so much, yet he can see the version of you he last saw clearly too. Your facial features have matured, your hair is longer than he was expecting, though he only saw pictures of you from the past years. You have a black wrap-around dress on that’s hugging your curves that look absolutely delicious. 

It’s pretty obvious you’ve put on some weight and judging from the way you nervously keep fixing your dress every other second, it’s something you feel insecure about, but Harry cannot take his eyes off you and he forces himself to tame his already wandering thoughts. 

“Dude, close your mouth!” Beckham walks up to Harry, patting his shoulder to snap him out of his trance. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles under his breath, averting his eyes from you, but it only takes a few seconds before his gaze returns.

“Go say hi,” Beckham encourages him, but he shakes his head no.

“Later. I don’t… I don’t think I’m the person she wants to see the most.”

Beckham laughs as he walks away with his beer while Harry returns to his seat that’s not as close to yours as he would want it to be, but at least you’re on opposite sides, so he can keep an eye on you as the dinner finally starts. He can faintly hear your voice over the chatter every time you speak up or laugh at something and he wishes he was part of the conversation as well, sitting next to you instead of sneakily stealing glances.

Sometime after the main course and before the dessert it’s suggested that everyone say a short little summary of what happened to them in the past decade, and the round starts, everyone curiously listening to what their old pals are saying. 

“Um, hi,” Harry chuckles awkwardly when it’s his turn. “Well, I’ve had a pretty busy couple of years,” he grins, making everyone laugh. “I don’t know what I can say that you can’t read online, but let’s pretend you know nothing. So I just published my third solo album not long ago, I’ve been really enjoying experimenting with music on my own, though I loved my time in the band as well. I’m working on new stuff lately and I still have part of the tour coming up. I’m doing good, it’s all good,” he nods to himself before smiling around and giving the word to the next person. 

While he is interested in what everyone has to say, he is mostly looking forward to your turn finally so he can shamelessly stare at you while you talk.

“Hi everyone,” you smile nervously around, squaring your shoulders as attention turns to you. “Um, I don’t really know where to start. I started marketing at college, but I didn’t really like it and I was learning coding at the time so I thought I would start a career in that field. I went to an intense training so now I mostly make websites, but I do other stuff too. Um… I live here in London as most of us do now,” she chuckles, the class sharing her smile. “Nothing… Nothing else to share, really,” she adds in a mumble and looks to her right, signaling that she is done talking, it’s time for the next person.

It wasn’t enough. Harry wants to know more, everything if that’s possible and if it wasn’t for all the people around him, he would stand up and just sit beside you, asking you dozens of questions.

But he has to sit and wait patiently, pretend like you’re not the only one he is interested in the bunch. 

An entire hour passes by before he sees you slip away from the table and out to the back patio. Part of him tells him he shouldn’t follow you, but he just can’t stop himself. He excuses himself from the conversation and heads after you, hoping no one will notice him missing inside.

In the summer time there are tables outside as well with fairy lights creating a cozy mood, but it’s too cold right now to sit outside, so it’s only used by smokers occasionally. When Harry steps out as he slips into his coat he spots you right away in the corner, scrolling on your phone as you’re probably having a break. Even when you were younger, you often told him your social batteries easily run out and those were the times Harry gladly sat outside with you until you felt comfortable enough to go back inside. Seems like not much has changed. 

“Hey,” he breathes out and watches your eyes widen when you realize he came after you.

“H-Hi!” you clear your throat, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Having a social break?” he smiles warmly, standing only a few feet away from you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

There’s a bit of a pause where you’re not too sure how to act with Harry right next to you and he is stunned as well. There’s so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t know how you’d react. He doesn’t know about a lot of things when it comes to you but he is determined to change that. 

“So… how have you been?” he asks at last, the ure to speak up taking over the silence.

“Um, I’m fine. Fine, yeah,” you nod. 

“Do you still work at that civil organization, or…?”

“You know I worked there?” you ask, the surprise is pretty apparent on your face. 

“Of course,” he smiles softly, a blush tinting his cheeks. 

“Uh, I’m not there anymore. I work for a bigger company.”

“But still in marketing?”

“Yes,” you nod. “I can do more designing here on the side, that’s why I switched.”

“You like it?”

“It’s good. But work is work, you know, I was never the kind to be obsessed with my job.”

As you say that you realize he can’t know that, because you weren’t talking by the time you started working. It brings the awkwardness right back and he knows he needs to address some things before moving on.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t… I didn’t want us to eventually stop talking. It’s just that so much happened, all at once and I didn’t take all of it the best way either. I should have focused more on my oldest friendships. I’m sorry, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head with a weak smile. “People have fallouts all the time, it’s natural.”

But it wasn’t supposed to happen to us, Harry wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He shouldn’t bring everything up the first time you see each other.

“But we could start again,” he suggests, holding his breath as he watches your reaction to his words.

“Start again?”

“Yeah. I would… love to catch up with you, hear about everything I missed. Only if you want to tell me about it, of course.”

You stare back at him for way longer than he would have loved it and it convinces him it’s the part where you tell him to fuck off. He wouldn’t be surprised, you haven’t talked in ages and now he is so desperate to reconnect. You have every right not to want him back in your life even if you never had a fight that resulted in the fallout.

He is about to take back what he said, but you finally speak up.

“Okay,” is all you say with a tiny nod. 

He’s shocked, to say the least, even though he was hoping you’d say that. But seeing that small smile on your face is all he needs right now.

“Cool,” he breathes out. The door behind him opens and another guest walks out to have a smoke, making them realize they should probably return to the table. “Look, if you’re free sometime soon, I’m staying until the end of the month. We could have lunch, dinner or even breakfast,” he chuckles. “I would love to see you again and talk. Just the two of us.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

“Cool! Great!” he enthuses, probably more excited than he should be, but it doesn’t matter.

The two of you return to the table soon, no one really noticed that you slipped away, but it leaves Harry with a silly smile on his face that widens every time he looks at you again. Suddenly, he feels like a teenager all over again, he is in that basement with his best mates, just having fun, looking forward to spending some time alone with you.

Your bike rides home together were always his favorites, even the ones when you didn’t exchange a single word. He just loved seeing you by his side, the way you always squinted your eyes when the wind blew harder than usual, how you always checked back at him if he was behind you whenever you were about to cross a road. These are all tiny things that are etched into his memories probably forever.

Sometime towards the end of the evening Bee gathers your little group and asks to talk to you outside. You stand in a circle, everyone eyeing her suspiciously as she tries to hold her smile back, Lucas standing right behind her.

“So, there is something that we would like to share with you guys,” Bee starts and without any time to waste, she pulls out a ring from her pocket and slips it on her finger, holding it up, her grins stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh my God!” Chloe gasps as she realizes what it means. “Congratulations!”

It’s a shock, but not really. Bee and Lucas became an official item sometime before graduation, had a short break during college since Lucas studied abroad and long distance took a toll on them, but they found their way back not long after. Engagement was definitely the next step after they moved together three years ago and adopted a dog just last year.

But still, it’s shocking for Harry to see his old pals move on in life together. There’s a pang of jealousy in him too, but it’s overruled by the happiness.

There’s a round of hugs and congratulations before Bee reaches for her purse and pulls out a stack of envelopes.

“We want to invite you all to the wedding that’s gonna be held in June. You guys have been here from the start and it only feels right if you’re there with us on our big day.”

“Man, I might even start crying!” Joshua jokes, but Harry can see the shimmer in his eyes as he takes his invitation.

“Don’t get too mushy,” Lucas chuckles, patting his shoulder. 

Chloe is already talking Bee’s ears off about the wedding and offers to help with basically anything, while you’re examining the invitation card with a soft smile on your lips.

Harry’s excitement runs even higher when he realizes it’s gonna be another occasion where he’ll see you, though he plans to meet a few more times until June.

The night stretches long, it’s way past midnight when the last guests get ready to leave. Harry has been keeping an eye on you all evening in case you wanted to slip out, but you stayed until the end and he doesn’t hesitate to take this opportunity.

“Do you have a ride home?” he asks, when you’re putting your coat on.

“Um, I’ll just call an Uber or something.”

“We can share, I already called one.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

In front of the building everyone says their goodbye, heading their own way and you are left alone with Harry on the curb as the car pulls up.

“So when will you be free for that breakfast slash lunch slash dinner?” he asks, not wanting to miss the chance to see you again.

“I have to check my work schedule, but… I’ll text you, okay?” “Promise?” he arches his eyebrows.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Just so you know, if you ghost me I will come for you.”

“So you’re that desperate?” you chuckle and he just shrugs with a smirk.

“I’m just eager to start over and reconnect with you.”

“I’ll text you, don’t worry. My days are just… a bit hectic lately.”

He wants to ask you about it, would be even better if you just opened up about whatever it is that’s happening in your life, but he’s fine with what he got as well. He doesn’t want to be greedy. 

You make some small talk on the way to your place and when the car comes to a stop Harry is already looking forward to seeing you again. 

“Don’t forget about texting me!” he reminds you again, to which you exhale sharply.

“I actually keep my promises, Harry. Goodnight,” you say before hopping out of the car, leaving him too stunned to speak and the car drives away before he could even react. 

It was like a stab in his chest, your words ring in his head all the way until he arrives home and even after that. 

He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. His nagging was supposed to be just a joke, but apparently, he should have been more careful, because your reaction was sharp and painful. But he deserved it, he knows, because what you said… that was a reminder that he fucked up and he can’t just start all over again so quick and easily.

He wants to go back in time and take the words back, everything was going so well up until that point and now it feels like a setback. While in the shower he is composing a text to apologize for overstepping your boundaries and he is just about to type it out when his phone rings, your name on display. 

“Hi!” he answers, shocked to receive a call from you but also thankful that he can apologize.

“Hey.” Your voice is weak, but a lot lighter than it was in the car when you parted ways. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he shakes his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and he wishes he could talk to you in person, see your face.

“It was rude. You’ve been so nice all evening, even asking to reconnect and I was… I was an asshole,” you sigh and he can imagine you closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I kinda deserved it. It’s been long, Y/N, I shouldn’t have expected to just go back to being best friends. I pushed too hard, so if anyone has to be sorry, it should be me.”

There’s a long pause at your end of the call, Harry is dreading to hear your voice and make sure he didn’t fucked up royally.

“I’ve been kind of… moody lately. I should think about my words before talking.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks, but then realizes that it might be over the line too. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to share anything with me, I totally understand it.”

“Maybe some other time,” you quietly answer and Harry swallows down his greed to know more. “But… I’m free on Friday,” you add and his heart skips a beat.

“Friday is awesome!” he answers without even thinking through his schedule. If he has anything that day, he’ll surely cancel, nothing can be more important than meeting you again. “We could go out for dinner?”

“Can we… Is it possible not to go out?”

“Yeah,” he nods, though his chest tightens. Does this mean you don’t want to be seen out with him? He wouldn’t blame you, it would put you in the spotlight instantly. “Want to come over? I could cook something.”

“That sounds good. See you on Friday, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he manages to say before the call ends.

A week has never felt longer. Every waking moment was spent by counting the days until Harry could finally see you again. He planned out the whole evening the day after the reunion, from the meal to the outfit he would wear, he knew it all by Monday rolled around so he had to spend five days anxiously waiting for Friday. 

On Wednesday he has a few drinks with just the boys, Joshua, Beckham and Lucas, cheering on Lucas’ engagement and having some boytalk. Even though they kept in touch throughout the years, there’s still a lot to share. They are having a great time, lots of laughs and jokes are shared over their beer.

“Alright, I want to talk about something major,” Joshua smirks over his pint, his eyes finding Harry and he already knows it’s gonna be about you.

“Just ask it,” Harry chuckles.

“Can we talk about how you had the heart eyes for Y/N all evening at the reunion?”

“Like a lovesick puppy!” Beckham laughs, patting Harry on the back as he puts up with the teasing.

“It was nice seeing her again, what can I say?” Harry shrugs, but he can’t hold his smirk up, which earns another round of laughter from his friends.

“Oh, it was more than just nice, right?” Lucas grins with a knowing smirk.

“We shouldn’t be surprised though, you were so in love with her back then,” Beck scoffs as he leans back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not in love, I was just…” Harry tries to explain himself, but fails.

“Just in love,” Lucas teases him.

“I might have had a crush on her, I admit. But it’s been a long time, we obviously changed a lot. It was great to reunite with her.”

“And you plan to reunite some more with her soon?” Joshua wiggles his eyebrows. 

“We’re actually meeting on Friday.”

“You little minx!” Beckham laughs. “Will you shoot your shot?”

“We literally just met again after almost a decade. There’s no shot to shoot.”

“Yeah, and maybe it’s better if you’re careful,” Lucas nods, but Harry doesn’t really understand what he meant by that.

“Careful?”

“Yeah, I mean, after what she went through…”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Joshua asks, his gaze flickering between Harry and Lucas.

“What? Tell me what it is!”

“She got a divorce not long ago. Like, about a year ago,” Lucas says, keeping his voice down. 

“Huh? I didn’t even know she was married!”

It feels like a punch in the stomach, how he missed such a major event in your life. Not getting an invitation is one thing, but how did you manage to keep it so secret that he didn’t even know you were engaged?

“She kept it pretty low,” Beckham says. “I mean, the divorce and also the whole relationship.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know about them until she was engaged,” Joshua shakes his head. 

“And what happened? Why did it end?”

Beckham and Joshua shrug their shoulders, but Lucas seems like he knows something. 

“Lucas? If Bee told you something…”

“I don’t know the whole story, okay? But as far as I know… he cheated on her.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry breathes out, his heart sinking instantly. 

“Pretty rough, yeah. But maybe don’t bring it up until she is ready to share it with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods. 

The night carries on and they talk about anything and everything, but Harry’s mind stays stuck on you. To be more precise, your divorce he knew nothing about. It’s no surprise you are so reserved and moody, it must have been hard for you to go through it. He can only hope you had friends to rely on, Chloe or Bee at last if he wasn’t there for you.

Another thing to add to the list of things he should feel horrible about when it comes to you. 

At the end of the night he offers to share a ride with any of the boys and Beckham accepts, so they leave together. 

“I know it’s eating you away,” Beckham speaks up in the car. 

“Huh?”

“That you didn’t know about her divorce.”

“I wasn’t there for her, Beck. I should have been, but I didn’t even know she was engaged!”

“You weren’t talking, you couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, but it was my fault we weren’t talking. I should have tried harder and… I should have kept my promise I made to her.”

Silence falls over the car as the passing lights illuminate their faces. Beckham is looking at Harry while Harry is staring straight ahead, his jaw jumping. 

“Look, you’ve made mistakes, it’s fine, totally human. If she is willing to meet you again, I’m sure she is not that mad at you, so it’s a good sign. You… Do you… want to, like… date her?”

Harry presses his lips together, thinking of his answer.

“It’s complicated, but… I think I still have feelings for her,” he admits, finally peeking at his friend. “Is that crazy? I mean, we were kids, can I actually still have… feelings for her?”

“Don’t underestimate your younger self. Look at Lucas. He’s been in love with Bee since forever and now they are getting married.”

Harr hums and nods in agreement, but there’s still a lot he needs to get clear in his head. Whatever it is that he feels for you, he wants to explore it but he also needs to be extremely careful now that he knows what you went through. And what if there’s more to it than the cheating? What if the guy did something else too that left you even more scarred? 

He wants answers, but he needs to be patient and give you time. 

Time, he couldn’t give you before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[doxypsychlean]

Was there ever a time, ever a moment?

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x OC

Summary: "That bastard truly loves her. And she's been toying with him this whole time"

Warnings: Explicit language

Multiple Chapters

Previous Chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off! Then fistfight your sweet ol' granny! Maybe steal your beloved pet...

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Translation of Asshai'i and High Valyrian can be found down below again. Fair warning, I've got no idea if the stuff in HV are accurate or if they make any sense. Also, the pyramantulas DO NOT belong to the world of HotD/GoT. They're something I came up with some time ago and decided to include them out of the blue. You'll find some info on them down below.

Alicent Hightower stared at her son and his betrothed as they walked through the gardens of the Red Keep, hand in hand. The two seemed to be madly in love. They kept stealing glances at eachother, shamelessly laughing at whatever it was they were talking about.

"I'm perplexed, Larys... I've never seen him like this before." She stared down through the window, her eyes never leaving the couple. "Just... look at him."

"The Prince is young, your Grace." The Clubfoot looked her up and down." It's only natural."

"No. Not to him. There's something about her, this..."

She'd never consciously allowed herself to stoop down low enough to the point of having to resort to insults. The Queen had more dignity than that. As unusual and irritating Prince Aemond's behavior was, lady Vessard had done nothing to deserve Alicent's distrust. And yet...

"Did you find anything?"

"Both yes and no, your Grace. From what I have heard, this fair lady is well-known in all corners of the world, yet no one has even the slightest idea who she is. Some call her Thorok Ainū. The Almighty Lightbringer. Others, however, call her by a different name. One that suggests the darkness always follows close behind the light..."

"Ma'andraga" She repeated once more.

"Mandrag-a?" The Prince offered, struggling to pronounce the word.

"Close, but no." Rebonna laughed unabashedly. Aemond gulped as the sound reached hie ears, almost swallowing his tongue in the process. The woman laughed even harder, this time for a different reason.

In all honesty, it was quite amusing. The prince acted like a hyperactive pup, overjoyed at the sight of his owner.

"Ma'andraga" Aemond got it right this time. The woman nodded in approval. "Ono onqotath ath vellar."

The prince was completely lost. Some of what she had just said sounded familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"One..."

"...that walks the sky." She finished for him. "We prefer speaking in riddles."

"Oh, I see."

"You will learn with time, do not worry."

"Nyke hae naejot sepār rȳbagon ao ȳdragon sȳrkta" Aemond admitted.

"Yn jaelan naejot ȳdragon lēda ñuha valzȳrys isse ñuha own udrir..."

"You speak High Valyrian?" The prince had come to halt. Hearing his betrothed answer in the language of Old Valyria made him swallow thickly as he tried to hide his arousal.

"As well as Bastard Valyrian, Dothraki, Quartheen and a few more..." Rebonna replied with a proud smirk. "Ivestragī jikagon..."

She tugged at him, now leading the prince out of the gardens.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't see it fit for a prince to skip his training sessions. So we'll go train."

They went out of sight, leaving the Queen to stare at where they once stood. After coming back to her senses, Alicent shut the window closed, the metal bars shaking and clattering as the hinges screamed for mercy. She looked at the Master of Whispers.

"Find. More."

Larys leaned onto his cane, the weight of his body falling on his good foot.

"As my Queen commands..."

"Wouldn't you like a weapon, my lady?"

"Do not worry about me, my Prince. I'll manage."

Ser Criston stood off to the side, watching as his student hesitantly lowered his weapon to the middle of his body. Prince Aemond was now in a Pflug stance, his left leg extended back, the sword he held pointing at his beloved's chest.

Cole's eyes turned to the woman. She stood a few feet away from her opponent, calm as a lake. Her hands were neatly folded behind her back, two black eyes staring up at the sky. Then they went back down. Then they met his. She winked at the knight with a smug look on her face. One that screamed "Watch me make a fool out of your student. And of you- his teacher."

Few moments ago the Kingsguard thought of her as a reckless woman that would mkst certainly yelp in horror at the first swing of the prince's sword. But now he knew. There, in the middle of the training grounds, stood a skilled warrior. One that had seen battle before. One that was ready to kill.

"Don't be shy now..." Rebonna teased. "I'm right here, just a few steps away."

"My lady, it's not too late to surrender. I do not wish to harm you." Aemond responded, cocky smirk on his face.

The Vessard had been planning on letting him off easy, up untill the moment those words left his mouth. She smiled at her betrothed. The voice inside her head yelled at her to cut the prince's head clean off.

"We'll see..." She nodded, signaling to Aemond that the first move was his.

The Targaryen wasted no time. He strode over to her. The tip of his sword was almost touching her. Then she dissappeared.

"Miss."

He looked to his left. She looked as if she'd never moved an inch, her hands still folded behind her back.

Aemond swung. And missed. His sword went through the air, the force of the blow almost tipping him to the side.

"Another miss."

His eye found hers once again. His brows furrowed. Aemond lowered his sword.

"You give up so easily?"

The prince smirked as he swung again.He'd sure get her this time, she wouldn't be able to react in time. And yet, his sword made no contact once more.

"Ser Cole...Would you care to join us?" Aemond heard her voice coming from behind him this time. Then came a blow to the back of his legs. The Prince fell to his knees. One of her hands wrapped around his neck before he could kiss the ground goodnight. "Ser Cole?"

Criston was staring at the two in shock, mouth wide open. She was so damn fast, his eyes could barely see her as she moved. And that kick... It came to him- that kick was her holding back.

"Pick your jaw from the floor." Her hand found its way back behind her. "Join us."

The lady wasn't asking. That was a command. The soldier inside of Cole answered.

He unsheathed his sword, the blade hissing in response. The knight circled around her, two black eyes following every move of his. Prince Aemond took the opportunity to rise back to his feet, his sword going up at the same time he did. The two men looked at eachother. Aemond nodded.

They had spent hours swinging at eachother. The knight had let him on all his secrets, all moves, all strategies. There was no need for words.

Criston engaged first. Swing after swing, none of which found their target. He was desperately trying to get her in a trap. But her moves were calculated, all of them well thought of.

They both thought her full attention had turned to the man in front of her when Aemond One-Eye made his way towards the two.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He was right behind her, sword ready to swing at her head. If the hit were to land, it'd kill her on the spot.

"You don't move around quietly; you know that, right?"

She disappeared from sight once more. Aemond lost his balance again. He took Criston along on his way down to the dirt.

"It's your eyes, boys. They're the ones shouting the truth, while the rest of you is telling lies." A deep voice came out from above.

"Unfortunately for you, this one has good hearing." The stranger's hand had turned to point at the young woman that stood next to him.

Beliz and Rebonna enveloped in a tight hug, both laughing. Ser Criston got back up, hand extending out to his prince. Aemond was too busy staring up at the stranger, his eye trailing over the two strong arms that now held his woman. He smacked the knight's hand away, quickly forgetting about his weapon that now laid on the ground.

"Morgon salen, it is good to see you back this soon." The two let go of eachother. "Aeth tha ukasire esinax suidos issa..."

Rebonna was now holding the stranger's hands in hers, just as she'd done with Aemond's earlier that day. The prince felt a lump find home in his throat as he took in her sorrowful expression. It made him want to tear the man in pieces for ever daring to cause such distress to her.

"I apologize, thamar ēdas yeni othok..."

"Nonsense! You could never do such a thing!" The sad look had dissappeared from her eyes. She was shaking the strange man's hands, trying to reassure him. Beliz smiled, two rows of sharp, white teeth showing between his lips.

"Oh, how rude of me!" Rebonna suddenly turned to face the prince and the knight of the Kingsguard. Beliz snorted quietly. It didn't go unnoticed by Aemond. "My Prince, Ser Criston, this is Beliz. A dear friend of mine."

"Beliz...?" The silver haired man trailed off, his sharp jaw clenching as he sized up the stranger.

"Just Beliz. It's a pleasure, my Prince!" The man extended his arm out, enormous palm held wide open. Now that he'd turned to face him, Aemond could finally take a good look. He recognized him almost immediately. He was one of the twelve that had escorted the lady to the feast. One of the twelve that could dissappear into thin air.

Rebonna huffed, trying not to laugh at the prince's confused stare. She knew perfectly well what Beliz was doing, but couldn't be bothered to stop him. Her shadows loved toying with people. She did too.

"Well, we best go." Lady Vessard's voice shot out, her foot tapping happily. "My Prince, Ser Criston!"

Rebonna was already dragging Beliz towards the Red Keep by the time Aemond realized the two were walking away. As his eye followed the them, the prince noticed eleven other strangers standing close to the steps that led into the castle. They were all staring him down, only stopping once their master had reached them. Their blank faces twisted into wicked smiles as they turned their backs to him.

"Let us continue, my Prince. It would seem both of us could use some more training." Ser Criston let out bitterly.

"Where to now?"

"Enek, trust me, if I knew I'd tell you..."

"Sothoryos?" The bearded man that stood closest to the doors of the lady's chambers asked, his scarred hand resting on the door handle. The injury to his neck had been so severe, it had damaged his vocal cords to the point where not even Rebonna could help him. What was left of his once strong, booming voice was nothing more than a ghost. A shadow.

"Fuck, forgot about that cursed place..." Rebonna ran her delicate fingers through the locks of black hair that covered her head.

"Abdin is right, the Sothoryi might know something, considering all the beasts that dwell there... It's worth the try." Mala said.

The others nodded in agreement.

"Fine,fine.Sothoryos it is then. But..." Rebonna pointed at Liora and Firoll, eyes squinting as she shook her finger at them "...no white bats, no basilisks and absolutely no pyramantulas* !"

"Let's not forget blood worms" Beliz added.

"That too! Bring nothing back, those poor beasts don't belong here. I'd also like to believe you two have learned by now that they do not wish to be plucked out of their lands either!"

On their last visit to Sothoryos, during the Second Ghiscari War, Liora and Firoll had gotten so drunk, the two fell into a drunken stupor. Without anyone noticing, they escaped into the Green Hell, stumbling over their feet. They returned two days later, bite marks covering them from head to toe, each holding a white vampire bat, the size of a large dog, in their arms. The creatures were scared to death, biting at their captors' fingers with whatever was left of their power.

Next was the six-legged basilisks they had "stumbled upon" in a cave during their visit to the Basilisks Isles. This fearsome beast had fought bravely, tearing Liora's face open with its spiked tail. Firoll had almost lost an eye trying to catch it. Fortunately for all, the basilisk had decided it had dealt enough damage to the two imbeciles, and fled the scene.

Last came the horde of pyramantulas. The two cretins had tried to corner a baby pyramantula with the intent of bringing it back to Asshai. They did not even notice the rest of the family watching from above them. Not long after they sprinted past camp, screaming at the others to run as the hundreds of fire arachnids followed close behind. They lost all they'd brought to Sothoryos that day, all their possessions burning in the fire the giant spiders left behind.

"If it were possible, I'd kill you two right where you're standing..." Rebonna said to them on that night, the light from the flames bouncing off of her pale skin.

"If only..." The nine other shadows grumbled.

"Have us stay here then, with you. We'll be of no help there."

"Yeah, we'd probably just cause more harm than anything" Liora said, his eyes pleading. Rebonna had always had a soft spot for him. They all knew it. "Please, I want to walk the streets of this good-for-nothing town once more... I want to visit the place where my home once stood."

"You lazy bastards..." Their master muttered. "Fine, you're staying."

The cracked skin around the Westerosi's eyes wrinkled as much as it would allow, his dry lips twisting in a smile. Another win.

He flopped down next to the lady and wrapped his left hand around her shoulders.

"Thank you, my love. I promise, we'd be on our best behavior."

"Sure,sure...if I didn't know you so well, I might have actually believed you."

"It's decided then? We're going to Sothoryos?" Beliz asked.

Rebonna nodded in agreement.

"Āeksio salen!" The men said before they dissappeared once more.

"Rhae...othok kae nesat īa mazaro vala możgon?"

"You two go, Firoll. I can't, the King is hosting a feast later this evening. My..." The next couple of words came out as a hiss "betrothed and I have decided on a date for our wedding ceremony."

Firoll shook his head as him and Liora headed for the door.

"Try not to kill him before the bedding ceremony." Liora snickered, his split tongue flickering over his lower lip. Firoll pushed him out of the room and turned to look at her once more, shoulders shrugging and an apologetic look on his face.

Viserys reached for his cup once more. His friend had always had the awful habit of arriving late to such events. Unfortunately, it seemed like her ways were rubbing off on the young prince. Neither one of them was present, leaving the King of Westeros to deal with the Queen on his own.

Alicent was fuming. They'd been waiting for an hour now. Neither her son, nor his betrothed were anywhere to be found.

"This is the second time. And now Aemond is gone too..." She cracked her knuckles under the table. "Aegon, where is your brother?"

"How should I know? I haven't seen him at all today." Aegon responded, not even bothering to look at his mother as he spoke. His eyes were trained on the decanter in front of him. As he reached out for it, the Queen stood up. She slapped his hand away.

"You've had more than enough for one night. Get ahold of yourself, it's enough that I have to see you in this condition all the time, but that woman might walk in any second now."

"Alicent..." Viserys tried to stop her, failing miserably.

"I will not have you make a fool out of me in front of strangers..."

The doors swung open. Alicent closed her mouth, her eyes going from one son to the other. Aemond walked into to room with lady Vessard on his right.

"Ah, Rebonna!" Viserys laughed. "Always fashionably late!"

" 'Twas my fault, father. Do not put the blame on my betrothed."

"No need, my Prince. Your father knows me well..."

What he'd just done surprised her, even though she would never admit it. It was a simple lie, yes, but he was willing to take the blame off of her and carry it on his shoulders himself. She wondered how far his devotion for her would stretch to. Would he still be at her side, once her plans were revealed?

"Don't just stand there! Please, take a seat!" The Queen's words pulled Rebonna away from her thoughts. "You must be tired after all that training!"

Aemond nodded at his mother in a curt manner, a warning for the Queen to not push her luck. It made her feel uneasy. Her darling, perfect boy was treating her like she was no one, all to protect the stranger that held onto his hand.

"Your mother is right, boy. Sit, sit!" The King ushered, hand waving at Rebonna.

"My lady..." Aemond finally said as he pulled her chair back.

Rebonna smiled as she sat down, her eyes never leaving the Queen. The corners of her mouth twitched lightly as she turned to face at her future sister-in-law and her husband.

"Princess Helaena! Prince Aegon! I apologize, we must have lost track of time!"

Aegon choked on his drink. Alicent glared at him, trying her hardest not to reach across the table and slap him.

"There is no need, sister." The sweet girl that sat on her right said. "I trust your stay at the capital has been pleasant so far?"

Oh, Rebonna had heard all about the brigh-minded girl, long before she'd even met her. To the rest of the world, the princess was a strange being. Her interests did not meet those a proper lady should have. She'd always been fascinated with insects, her curious eyes watching them as they crawled around her hands freely. That wasn't the most interesting thing about her though, no. Not long after she'd learned how to talk, the princess had started muttering cryptic messages under her breath. To most, those were just empty words, spilled out with no thought behind them. She'd been just a child and as many know, children always blabber about something. But Helaena was now a grown woman.

Rebonna had recognized it almost immediately after the tales of the strange princess reached her ears. She was a dreamer. Not a particularly strong one, for which the girl had no fault. The prophecies always came to her in the form of riddles,but still... A living Targaryen Dreamer. Unfortunately, most of what she said fell on deaf ears...

"More than I could describe, my Princess!"

"Are you and my brother getting along? That is quite important for a marriage, you know?"

Rebonna had also heard of the way the princess' older brother and husband- Aegon, had been treating her and their children. The Prince neglected her, only ever coming to Helaena when their mother pointed out that his wife is still not with child, two moons after the wedding. He did his duty. Then left her be once more.

"I'd like to think that we are, Princess." Her gaze softened as she replied.

"On the topic of marriage..." Prince Aegon desperately tried to turn the attention of the room away from him and his sister-wife. "...have you two decided when the ceremony will take place!"

"In a fortnight, brother." Aemond said, dragging every word out.

"A toast then!" The King's voice rang through the room. He got up slowly, Alicent following right after.

Helaena and Rebonna stood up at the same time, leaving the two brothers to stare at eachother. The silver haired girl wrapped her left hand around the one of the taller woman that sat beside her, her right one reaching for her cup. She turned to face her with a warm, trusting smile.

"To my son Aemond..." Viserys pointed to him with his cup, then turned to her. "...and lady Vessard! Today we wish you happiness. May the Gods protect you from the storm, from pain and illness, from hardships. May they grant you with passion and ardor! Let your love last forever, and be longer than the last sunset!"

Without even realizing it, Rebonna had turned to face Aemond. He was already looking at her.

"Hear! Hear!" The Prince said, the edge of his cup pressing to his soft lips.

*pyramantulas- giant fire spiders, native to the unexplored parts of Sothoryos. Pyramantulas are not venomous. Their bodies are covered in thick hair. Pyramantulas differ by size and shape. The most common ones are red, followed by orange, yellow and white, which is considered the rarest. The smallest adult pyra on record stood 4 meters(13 feet) above the ground. Largest one- 10 meters(32 feet). Females are larger than males. They're not aggressive and usually hide from other beasts and humans. Pyramantulas are carnivores. They hunt in packs. Average speed is 40km/h (24m/h). They live in colonies, smallest one on record had well over 500 hundred members. Said to be able to understand human speech, but not confirmed. When the pyras feel threatened or in the rare occasions of them fighting amongst eachother for dominance, their bodies burst into flames. Cannot be tamed.

*Translation of Asshai'i and High Valyrian down below*

A: I'd rather just listen to you talk.

R:I want to talk with my husband in my own language, if you don't mind.

R: Let's go...

──────────────────

R to B: Old friend, it is good to see you back this soon. I wish it was under different circumstances.

B: I apologize, we have failed you...

──────────────────

Shadows to R: Master!

F to R&L: So...you two wanna go grab a drink?

[drifting-wreckers]

See the Light, Chapter 4: And in Many a Way I Have Been

Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus IV x OFC: romance, drama, NSFW, 18+, MDNI, sort of doctor/patient

Copia’s role as Papa Emeritus IV kept him much more preoccupied than he wished it would, particularly as the longer he went without keeping Evelyn’s company, the more irritable he found himself becoming. Those few moments he was able to steal away to her little haven to read tended to be interrupted by patients, but at least he could steal sweet, warm kisses…

…and, Satan help him, enjoy the other things her mouth was quite gifted in…

Their physical relationship certainly was not lacking in the slightest, although both would admit to themselves that it was the pillow talk they shared before and after that kept them most enthralled with one-another. He’d even slipped and let some of his frustrations with Sister Imperator’s plans and manipulation of other members of the higher clergy through; she had provided him an outsider’s insight and additional input and solutions that were most useful…all while running her fingers through his graying hair. He was ever grateful for the plush carpet she had placed onto the floor for those soothing, affectionate moments.

It was a bit late in the evening, and Copia had procured himself a basket of goods from the kitchen ghouls who were wise enough not to ask questions. Aether, on the other hand, had caught him just outside the kitchens and smirked knowingly at him before thrifting an apple from the top of his stash. The two men stared each other down, until a distantly familiar scent drifted past the ghoul’s nostrils. His brow furrowed a moment behind his mask.

“Hey, Boss have you been, uh…” Copia quirked a brow until the ghoul dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. There was no way, it hadn’t happened in centuries. He was just smelling something familiar. “Eh, nevermind. Go get your…prescription.” Copia said a few choice words back with a roll of his eyes before continuing on his way. Dewdrop appeared next to Aether shortly thereafter.

“You noticed it too, huh?”

Aether glanced down at the shorter ghoul and rubbed the back of his neck. “Be pretty wild if we were right, wouldn’t it?”

Aether could feel Dew’s maniacal grin behind the mask. “Imperator’s reaction’d be priceless if we were.”

Copia quickly disregarded the somewhat odd interaction with Aether. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Evelyn had shared a meal together and he was hell-bent on rectifying that. He was cautious in his trek towards the infirmary after hours, not wanting to be spotted and questioned by anyone that may – intentionally or otherwise – let any of what they saw slip to Imperator. The woman was insufferable when it came to his every move and the fact that this was still their delightful secret was nothing less than a Lucifer-given miracle.

As he approached the ever-familiar door, his hand hesitated over the handle as he heard music coming from the other side. His lips quirked upward as the guitar riff of Witch Image reached his ears, and then, instead of his own voice, hers drifted through. He stopped, his heart pounding in his ears as his cock twitched in response. He wasn’t sure how, but the sweet lilt of her voice as she sang along to his music had him reaching half-mast in a hurry. He tested the door handle, pleased to find she had forgotten to lock it quite yet and, silently as he could, eased it open. When he had just enough space to lean through the door, he found her organizing one of the cabinets, her hips swaying to the chorus as she shamelessly belted along. It probably shouldn’t have been sexy, and yet somehow it was incredibly so. His grin was devious, silently setting the basket down as he closed the door behind him and turned the deadbolt. She still wore her mask, but the hood of her robe was off her head, revealing the restrained, tidy bun she kept her hair in beneath it.

Copia smirked as he crept closer behind her for the next verse. It wasn’t until the line started that he quickly pinned his hands around her waist, pulled her hips back to his and swayed them to the music. He brought his lips to her ear before she could do more than flinch.

“I…I am riding in the shadows behind you on a pale white horse…”

She gasped and flushed bright red as heat licked low in her abdomen at the warm breath on the shell of her ear. His singing voice was effortless even at a whisper. He freed one hand to both allow her to turn but also simultaneously yank the obstructing mask from her face; he was getting quite good at removing it.

“Copia!” she hissed, masking her embarrassment with weak anger. “You scared the Hell o-out of me!” She stuttered as his groin pressed to hers.

“Mi dispiace tanto, amore mio,” he chuckled darkly before boldly swiping a kiss from her lips, very much not sorry at all. “I saw your ass wiggling like that and couldn’t help myself…perdonami?”

She huffed, very clearly distracted by the warmth of his still-gloved hands and the rest of his body pressed against her. She could have whimpered.

“Have you eaten yet, amore…?” he murmured, innocently gesturing towards the covered basket he left on the floor by the door though his eyes never left her face. “I have acquired a stash from the kitchen since we have not been able to share a meal in some time…”

Her gaze followed his hand to the basket and then back to the warmth of his heterochromatic stare, that white eye of his glowing with both mirth and an unexpected amount of affection. Her full lips quirked upward as she let her arms drape around his neck and her fingers played with the hairs at his nape. His eyelids hooded and he sighed quietly; he did love it when she did that…

“In fact…I haven’t eaten yet.” He melted against her, fingers gripping her hips gently. “I could certainly use a meal…” Karma, she decided, as she rolled to the balls of her feet to close the distance between their lips once more and her tongue teased the seam of his lips. He groaned as the kiss deepened, their chests heaving between them.

“Cuore mio…” he breathed, trying his best to stave off his body’s immediate reaction to her…and failing quite miserably. “This was not my intention-…” She quirked a brow, fingertips dancing along the skin between his sweatpants and t-shirt. When did she even-? “…okay…cazzo…not my only intention, I just thought you might want to eat first, at least…”

Her grin was wicked, her hands fast as she loosened his pants and freed his erection before he could think. “In fact…I do.” And then she was on her knees before him as a hissed string of curses tumbled past his lips with the first swipe of her tongue and her mouth that followed shortly thereafter. He stumbled, one hand on the counter and one burying in her hair as she bobbed painfully slowly along his length. She knew she’d struck a nerve when his hand tightened, forcing her faster and deeper. His utterances were unknown to her, no doubt as filthy as the things he would growl in English when buried in her sex. Her thighs clenched at the thought, arousal heightened as she balanced herself and considered sneaking a hand to the apex of her thighs…

Copia refused to give her the chance. His grip on her hair tightened as he felt his balls lift and he abruptly pulled her off his dick with a salacious cacophony of suction and saliva. She reeled a moment, the sting of his grip only serving to add to the arousal pooled between her thighs. That same hand coaxed her upward, and his body pinned her to the counter as he dominated her mouth, his erection prodding at her belly between them. She whimpered as he gripped her thighs and hoisted them around his waist in order to carry her to their reading room; that plush carpet served soft-enough as he crouched and carefully laid her back, following only after he had managed to divest her of those god-forsaken robes and the remainder of her underclothes. The gleam in the white of his left eye was absolutely wicked, a look she had seen enough times before that sometimes she swore it was Lucifer, himself.

He slid to her thighs, wet kisses and nips trailing along them until his fingers danced at her slit and he inhaled sharply. “Così caldo, così bagnato per me…cazzo.” Her hips squirmed and he did her the favor of dragging his tongue along her heat, tongue and lips clamping around and dancing with her clit as he made no hesitation about slipping two fingers inside to curl upwards. Her back arched, a moan torn from her throat at the sudden assault, unclear when he had even managed to remove his gloves. She panted, her own hands buried in his hair until she was abruptly bereft of him on a whimper.

Copia smirked darkly, not one to leave her wanting for long as he gripped her hips and flipped her onto her stomach. He pulled her back up to her knees. She blinked but adapted quickly, more-than eager to have her ass in the air before him and rewarded with a sharp slap to each cheek. “Squisita, meravigliosa. Tutto per me…e solo per me.” He kissed each mark his hand had left, then trailed kisses up her back before he straightened, one hand guiding the tip of his cock to her entrance. He groaned as her ass shimmied and she tried to take him further, but his hands gripped her hips to still her. He pushed forward, painfully slowly, her voice a moan as she gripped the carpet beneath her. “Cosi perfetto, eri fatto per il mio cazzo,” he growled. He pulled his hips back then pushed forward again, faster and firmer, until his pelvis met her ass and he found his rhythm.

“Fuck, Copia,” she moaned, leaning back on her elbows to meet each of his thrusts. Lucifer help him, he loved the sound of her voice in the throes of passion.

He fisted a hand into her hair once more, this time pulling her upright to her delighted gasp as his angle changed and he somehow managed to bury himself deeper, glancing across the center of her pleasure with each thrust. Her hand scrambled behind her, finding the back of his neck as he continued his renewed pace. He could feel her flutter around him, teeth grazing her shoulder at the telltale give that she was fast-approaching her end.

“That’s it, cara, cum, I can feel you…cum on my cock, tell me, tell me your pleasure…” he growled, that grip in her hair as his other hand reached around to find purchase on her clit, her moans reaching fever pitch as he swelled within her.

“Papa, fuck…I’m cumming!” She keened, mouth open as she gripped his cock and convulsed. His pace stuttered, overcome by her own pleasure.

“Ecco, amore mio, vieni per tuo Papa. Prendi tutto quell oche ho da darti!” His teeth fell to her shoulder again as he groaned his release, cock kicking within her as he came, his own essence mixing with her slick and starting to drip down her thigh as their movements slowed and their chests rose and fell in panted breath. She was entirely breathless as his hand left her hair and his arm moved around her shoulders instead, pulling her back against his chest as he peppered tender kisses along the curve of her neck.

“Unholy shit, Copia,” she breathed when her mind had finally cleared enough to process words. She could feel the smirk against her skin as he slipped from her heat. “Every time I think it can’t get better,” she laughed lightly.

He chuckled, aware that there was a bit of a mess that would inevitably start to drip onto the rug if he did not move soon. He turned her head with the gentle guidance of a hand under her chin and kissed her sweetly. “Let me go get you something to clean up, do not move, cuore mio.” She blinked at him as he laid her gingerly back onto the carpet with a few more kisses before making his trek to her bathroom. She couldn’t help but watch, amused, as he had managed to do all of this with his pants below his ass and the rest of his clothes now disheveled but otherwise in place. She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head; she certainly had never thought she would end up an ass-and-thighs kind of girl but…he had proven her wrong.

He returned shortly thereafter with a damp rag, pants still untied but pulled back up to his waist with his penis tucked away. He knelt at her feet as she sat up, ready to take the rag from him and startled when he gently and warmly took the liberty of cleaning their mess from her thighs. She blushed at the unexpected intimacy, something she reflected on as being ridiculous considering how many times they’d had one-another in the most lascivious of ways. The chill of the room settled onto her damp, naked skin despite the fireplace in the corner of the room. With one more kiss to her lips he grinned and wrapped her robes around her shoulders; she found herself gazing into those familiar eyes that ensnared her so. She kept trying to tell herself that this…thing between them was purely physical but the tenderness of his touch, the dinner…

“I go get the food, si? Do not move,” he chuckled as she settled the robes more around her naked body and smiled at him as she watched him momentarily leave the room. There was something about him that was such a dichotomy. He could go from so shy, so unsure of himself, to commanding the attention of the entire clergy, thrusting his hips and telling an entire crowd to go fuck themselves, and then dominating between her thighs. And then he would be right back to that bashful Cardinal she remembered coming into her clinic for the very first time. She’d also long-since noticed how he fell into speaking Italian both when a bit more nervous and when fully overcome by passion. She regularly meant to ask him what he said but never seemed to remember or find the time.

He was quickly back in the room and settled beside her on the carpet as he began to set about unpacking the spoils of his raid of the kitchen. They had moved somewhat closer to the fire, laughing as they talked and teased and…

…Evelyn smiled quietly to herself as he rose to go to the bathroom, eyes soft as she pulled apart a bread roll and her stomach fluttered. No…this was not just about sex, she should’ve known better. She was becoming increasingly concerned about what this could mean for them both…

~

AO3 Link

[idy-ll-ique]

A Good Look.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: major angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, domestic violence (no graphic descriptions). hella curse words in one paragraph. one infinity war reference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Requested: nope

Summary: reader works at a bar owned by the notorious mob boss. he immediately takes a liking to her; unfortunately, she's taken. but is she happy in her relationship? hm, not quite...

Author's Note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

For her, it started small. It was her first day working. When Y/N had seen him walk into the bar, flanked by two of his closest friends, sure— for a moment, she was stunned, as were the other women working with her, but then as soon as he was out of sight, she returned to her work, ignoring her friends as they talked about the man.

Y/N knew better. She knew the kind of man he was, the way he was with a different woman almost every day and she knew better than to develop any kind of feelings for him. Plus, she was a taken woman herself, thinking about another man while being in a relationship with someone had to be wrong, right?

That's why she wanted an out— to break up with her current boyfriend. And he even made it easier for her by being the worst fucking boyfriend on the planet earth. She had hundreds of reasons as to why she was breaking up with him, the only question was when she could do it. Anyway, back to James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes...

Y/N couldn't help it. She went from ignoring him, to stealing small glances at him, to dreaming about him to thinking about him 24/7 in a matter of months.

Y/N worked as a bartender at one of the bars that the mobster owned. Heck, Bucky Barnes owned half the city, but that bar was one of his favorite places to visit. He went there everyday, most days not having a drink, but keeping a watchful gaze on the events that took place around the bar. There would be fights sometimes, and sometimes, the older men would hit on the young bartenders.

He didn't care, of course he didn't. That is, until he saw her. The moment he laid his eyes on her, her name still unknown to him, he was enamored. He kept looking over at her as she worked, sometimes giggling along with the other bartenders, sometimes cracking jokes that made all of them keel over in laughter.

Every time he saw her laughing, his heart fluttered in his chest and a warmth settled over him. He felt light-headed and giddy, even though he didn't drink. Within a few months, he was sure, he wanted her to be his indefinitely. Y/N, however, was shocked at his behavior, not knowing that she was the one who stole his heart.

His promiscuity stopped within the first week of him noticing Y/N. He no longer had one-night stands, no more dames by his side as he attended lavish parties, and the news had caught on. Who is the woman who won the mobster's affections? Y/N had read in a paper one morning. She felt… kind of relieved that he wasn't a playboy anymore.

It wasn't a good look on him.

---

Y/N was cleaning the counter with a rag when she heard the door opening and closing. Ugh, another customer. She looked up and grimaced as she saw one of the old, pervy bastards sitting in front of her, a smile on his face. "Good evening, sir, what can I get you?" She kept the annoyance from seeping into her voice.

He gave her his order and leaned forward, which caused Y/N to unconsciously lean back. "Change your mind today?" he smirked, picking up the glass just as Y/N set it down in front of him, causing their fingers to brush. She shuddered. "No," she replied politely, glancing around the room, hoping someone would come save her. As if. That's when their eyes met.

Y/N found herself staring at the man of her dreams, who was sitting in the corner of the bar with his friends. And he was staring straight back at her. Y/N gulped and turned away from him, instead focusing on the man in front of her who was shamelessly flirting with the woman who had to be at least 20 years younger than him.

"Stop flirting with my employee and let her do her job."

The entire bar froze the moment James Buchanan Barnes got up from his seat, heading towards Y/N. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his cool but threatening tone as he stared at the pervert, his eyebrows raised. The bar was silent as the man gulped and backed away from the counter, running out of the door like a chicken. Y/N stared at the floor.

"Hey."

She looked up and audibly gulped again, wincing in embarrassment when she realized that he had to know how scared she was. "Mr Barnes," she greeted, though it came out more like a squeak as her voice cracked. Please, go away, don't stand so close to me, I can't take it, go away, she kept muttering in her head.

"You okay?" he asked gently, not wanting the poor woman to collapse from anxiety. Some sadistic part of him liked it that she was so afraid of him, but mostly, he just wanted to make her feel comfortable. "Yeah." Y/N relaxed a bit at his question when she realized he wasn't going to hurt or fire her.

"Good." Then he walked away like he hadn't just set Y/N's entire body on fire by talking to her. As he sat back down on his seat, he inwardly cursed himself for not asking her her name. I don't even know the name of the woman I have fallen head over heels for, nice going Barnes! Gah! He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at nothing in particular.

He stayed until it was closing time, and found out something so incredible that his heart soared at the information. Y/N was the only employee who stayed until closing time. Y/N groaned loudly in the seemingly empty bar as she swept the place, not noticing the mobster boss sitting in the dark corner, watching her.

"Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck. You. Literally. What was the fucking reason?!" Y/N grumbled to herself, her voice reverberating off the walls in the empty place. "He was just checking up on you. Why the fuck did you treat him like he was the monster?! You dumbass. Ugh, I'm gonna have to make it up to him; what if he fires me?!" Y/N couldn't help the tears.

"He checked up on you and no thank you. What an ungrateful little bitch you are, you… you fucking idiot," Y/N continued speaking through the tears. "Maybe a free drink when he comes back tomorrow? Hah, as if, he owns the fucking bar. What should I do? Sleep with him? As if. Fuck. Shit."

"How about we start by washing your mouth with a soapbar, doll?"

Y/N froze when she heard him. Oh God, he was still here. "M-Mr Barnes?" she stammered, turning towards the voice. Bucky got up from his seat and strode towards her, making sure to keep some distance between them as he stopped in front of her. "Do you always ramble to yourself while you work?" he questioned amusedly.

When she had started rambling, he was confused. Who was she talking about? Then, he connected the dots. At first he was a bit amused but as her speech continued, he couldn't take it. How can someone degrade themselves so much? Y/N couldn't answer him, her vocal cords tied in a knot in her throat.

"I asked you something, and I'm waiting for an answer." At the authoritative tone she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I— uh, yeah, it's— it's, um, become a habit," she muttered, breathing heavily. What was he going to do to her? "You shouldn't cuss yourself out so much, doll," he frowned, crossing his arms. And without thinking, she replied, "Sorry."

"That man was clearly bothering you, I did what I had to do. I didn't expect anything in return. Sure, a thank you would've been nice," he teased lightly, "But please, never talk to yourself like that ever again, okay?" His gentleness turned something inside of Y/N and suddenly, she felt relaxed. Like she had known him for years.

"Okay. Oh, and, thank you." She gave him a smile so winsome that all he wanted to do was hold her against him and never let go. "Hold on, maybe there is something you can do." The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. "What is it?" she asked him, blinking. "Can we talk? Maybe you can tell me about yourself, and I can get to know you better."

So she did. Both of them sat at the bar with Bucky's favorite beer poured in mugs, talking. Y/N told him about how she was a university student, and that she had taken the job because she was in need of money. "You aren't scared? A lot of shit happens here, doll," Bucky commented, sipping his beer. "I don't know… it doesn't faze me as much as it should."

"And me! I'm the most dangerous man in the city and yet, you agreed to sit here with me, alone." At that, a smile bloomed on Y/N's face, the beer getting to her head, loosening her up. She looked away from him, almost shyly. "You saved me today, Mr Barnes. How can I not trust the guy who saved me?" Bucky's heart started hammering in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot," he spoke sincerely. "You're welcome! So, uh, I actually have to go to uni early tomorrow, so… I'd like to go home, please?" He immediately nodded at her words, helping her off the stool. He even helped her finish her chores before she locked the main door and turned around, smiling at Bucky.

"Well, this is it, I guess. Goodbye, Mr Barnes."

"Let me drop you home, please." And he did, pestering her until she agreed to get in his car. She insisted her apartment building was only a 15-minute walk away from the bar, but he wouldn't listen. "A lot can happen in 15 minutes, doll." And Y/N couldn't help but snort. "That's what she said." Her joke made him laugh so hard that he almost swerved the car into the sidewalk.

As Y/N stared at the laughing man, she felt tingly inside. Her feelings rushed to her; butterflies in her stomach. When they reached home, again, he insisted on dropping her off at her apartment, but Y/N declined. And this time, he didn't fight it. "Goodnight, Mr Barnes," she told him with a sweet smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

He had been such a gentleman that day, he deserved it. "Bucky will do, my love. Be safe, okay? We'll meet tomorrow." With that, he drove off.

And for the first time in months, Y/N went to sleep happy, giddy and absolutely satisfied.

So did Bucky.

---

After that one incident in the bar, Y/N and Bucky became close. When he was at the bar, Y/N was the center of his attention. He was the one who now sat in front of her, talking to her about his day and asking her about hers. "Tell me about your uni, doll," or, "Do you know what they did to me today? Ugh! Maniacs!"

Soon, everyone in the bar started giving them space. They knew the two were not sleeping together, but Barnes had, at last, found a female friend. How did they know the two were not sleeping together, you ask? Simple. Y/N still had a boyfriend. An abusive one, so she didn't tell Barnes.

After finding out about the events that had taken place at the bar that day between Y/N and Bucky, her boyfriend had reached new heights of jealousy and insecurity, not hesitating to raise a hand on his own girlfriend as he blatantly accused her of cheating on him with the mobster. It wasn't true by a long shot, and it hurt.

Y/N hadn't told Bucky about her boyfriend, because she knew that if she told him, he'd kill her boyfriend. She was about to break up with him anyway, so getting Bucky involved would only create more problems. A peaceful break up, and it was over. Unfortunately, peace was not involved on the day of the inevitable break up...

Bucky was already at the bar, but was grumpy since Y/N wasn't there. He was so desperate that he had asked one of her friends if she knew where the woman was. But the other woman could only shake her head, indicating that she didn't know. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing to the door the moment he heard it opening. He froze.

Everybody did.

Y/N was standing there, a very noticeable dark red patch on her white t-shirt. When she noticed that everyone was staring at her, especially Bucky, it made her nervous. Should've stayed at home. For a moment, she actually did consider going back out through the door but Bucky spoke up first. "Y/N, come here. Everyone out, bar's closed."

His tone was something she had never heard before. A mixture of annoyance, hurt, worry, but mostly anger. In another scenario, the scene of all the people scrambling out of the tiny door would've been extremely hilarious. But here, no one was laughing. Y/N stood frozen until the door closed behind her.

"I asked you to come here, doll."

Instinctively, she strode towards him, stopping just a few inches away. He stared down at her, jaw clenched. Being a mobster, he was used to seeing blood and could identify it easily. And it was definitely blood that was covering almost a sixth of Y/N's t-shirt. "Lift your shirt. Take it off, right now," he snarled.

Y/N, not wanting him to take his anger out on her, immediately ripped the t-shirt off of her, standing in front of him in her sports bra, a deep gash just under her left breast. Y/N flinched when his fingers came in contact with her wound and Bucky immediately retracted his arm. "What happened?" His tone changed. Now, it was simply full of hurt.

"He stabbed me." Bucky's hands balled into fists at his side. One name, all he needed her to do was give him a name and the bastard was dead, whether she liked it or not. "Who did?" "My boyfriend." Bucky went rigid at her words. All this time, she was taken? "You have a…?" She shook her head, letting her tears fall free. "Not anymore." That reassured him.

"I decided to break up with him today. Decided to do it before my shift here, so my job could distract me. He… he didn't like it. And he…" Y/N choked out through the tears. Bucky's body was boiling with anger. "Tell me his name right now." Y/N started feeling light-headed. "Bucky…" she whispered feebly, swaying on her spot. And he cursed loudly when she fell forward, unconscious.

He carried her out of the bar, put her in his car and drove above the speed limit to his place. He had a private infirmary at his mansion, where he knew Y/N would be the safest. Once he was home, not caring that his expensive suit was getting ruined by blood, he ran to the infirmary, Y/N in his arms. The doctors took her in for an operation and they had to admit—

They had never seen the mobster look so scared.

After he was sure Y/N was in good hands, Bucky went to the sitting room, where his friend, Sam, sat. "Pull out everything you can get on Y/N. Check everything. Social media— I need the name of her ex boyfriend." Sam got to work instantly, not wanting to aggravate the man. Turns out, he didn't have to search for long. "[Name]."

Sam told Bucky everything he could about the man. By the end, Bucky was seething. "Send some men over. Finish him." Again, Sam agreed without argument, rushing out of the room. And so, Bucky waited. He sat in the spacious sitting room all alone, holding his head in his hands, trying his best not to tear up.

---

"Bucky?"

It had been 6 hours since he brought her to his place. He startled and turned around to see Y/N standing at the door, leaning against it for support. This time, he did tear up and not caring about his dignity, he ran forward and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, sobbing like a little child. "Bucky, I'm fine, I really am," Y/N insisted in vain.

"I almost lost you today," Bucky sniffled, pulling away from her. She wiped his tears off, giving him a small smile. After spending a lot of time with the man, she had come to realize that he was nothing but a big softie, who put on a façade 24/7. He cared about her like no one else. He was so good to her.

And finally, her feelings were justified.

"You didn't lose me, though. I'm right here," she grinned. Her grin made him smile and he took her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Come here." Both of them walked into the room and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, thinking if he let go, she would turn to dust right in front of him.

"How bad is the wound?"

"Not that bad, actually, it was a kitchen knife." He moved to trace the wound through her t-shirt when he noticed it. She wasn't in her t-shirt, she was wearing one of his. This time, he didn't fight the urge. "God, I fucking love you so much, doll." Bucky grabbed her chin, pressing his lips to hers. She didn't fight it either.

"I… I love you too, Bucky."

She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, pressing tiny kisses to her cheek and forehead. "You're finally mine, baby girl. Ever since I saw you at the bar, I was smitten. Do you know what a torture it was for me?" he mumbled against her cheek. "Same. I, um…" He chuckled when he felt her skin warming against him.

"I'm going to treat you like the queen you are, baby."

"Aw, so cheesy. But flattering."

"Also, you're fired."

"Great, you ruined it."

"What? I'm the owner, I hire people. And you don't need the job anymore, you have me. I'll pay the university fees. You don't have to work at that horrible bar anymore."

"Bucky, you own the place."

"Still horrible."

"And also what are you, my sugar daddy?"

"Literally fuck off—"

"You know you love me."

"Fortunately, I do."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading. Leave a like if you enjoyed.

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (4)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.2k warnings: symptoms of depression, PTSD, anxiety, some really sweet moments to balance it out, more book recs 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“You’re staring at the doors again, sweetie.”

Chin resting on your hands, arms folded out on the countertop of the library’s front desk, you tore your eyes away from the entrance to find Mrs. Jefferson peering over at you from over the bridge of her glasses. She smirked as she returned to her book, knowing she’d caught you in the act.  

“Have patience,” she said simply.

“Book club is tomorrow and—” you sighed, a heaviness returning to your body as you slumped back against the counter, stare drifting back to the doors at the entrance. The sun was beaming outside, reflecting in beautiful rays as it illuminated the walkway and touched over old oak and the colorful bindings of novels. 

You frowned. “I really thought he was going to come.”

“This James Barnes... he’s a soldier, yes? Like my boy?”  

You nodded, disappointment burning like a lump in your throat, though you swallowed it back. “A Sergeant. Sam said he came home a little under a year ago.”  

“Then he’ll come,” Mrs. Jefferson pressed confidently, sliding her glasses up her nose, the chain of purple beads clicking against the gem stones on her sweater. “Boys like that don’t break their word. Even if he is a bit of a hesitant one.”

You knew what she meant by that. Hesitant.  

No one liked to talk about the dangers of a soldier post-war. It was uncomfortable; the idea that they could still be fighting a battle long beyond the absence of a weapon in their hands and the threat of present danger. Heroes weren’t supposed to have chinks in their armor. They weren’t supposed to crumble and break under the weight of what happened beyond borders and the guilt they carried.  

They were supposed to be strong; a symbol of a great country and a willing tribute to place upon a pedestal. It was unacceptable to be a burden, unacceptable to do anything other than seamlessly integrate back into a society that they never really knew to begin with.  

It was all a farce; a rigged game set to line the pockets of the rich and exploit everyone else in its path – sent off to fight for a cause no one really understood or believed in. It left behind good men and women to the rubble; Bucky Barnes among them.  

Sam hadn’t told you much about Bucky before you met him, but you knew enough to tell that it was a struggle to get him to leave the apartment. He was isolated and quiet and hardly recognizable from the man you’d seen in photos. Only, it wasn’t the lack of his left arm that drew your attention when you first saw him, but the lingering sadness in his eyes.  

Sam had a picture hanging in the office that often pulled you in. Bucky stood on his left side, smiling so wide it left lines on his face. He was bright, light as a feather, only weighed down by Steve’s arm slung around his shoulders. You wondered if the man in the photo would have flirted shamelessly with you, if he’d have corny pickup lines or offer to take you dancing. He looked like the sort of man who had girls chasing his tail, a line of heartbreak in his wake. He was beautiful.  

It was strange to see him like that, comparing him to the man he was today. Now, it was like a cloud lingered over his head, draining the color from his skin and chipping away at his soul until it dimmed and crumbled and faded away.  

But you’d seen glimpses of the man in the photo. He was still beautiful; a little hurt and dragging his feet, but beautiful. His smile wasn’t quite as wide and the cloud was still present, but there was a peak of sunshine peering through. A single ray puncturing over stormy skies, but it was something. He’d laughed and teased and it was more than Sam had known him to do in months. You were determined to see the sun touch his skin again. If only he’d let you guide him there.  

“I’m going to go restock on the second level,” you conceded, pushing yourself up from the counter and sauntering over to the cart lined heavy with books.  

“Alright sweetie. I’ll be sure to page you when your Sergeant shows up.”

You felt a heat burning in your face at the very idea of ‘your Sergeant’. Mrs. Jefferson chuckled to herself, eyes still down on her book. She waved you off, not giving you a chance to object, even if you could string together a coherent sentence.  

***

Bucky couldn’t get out of bed.  

He’d been in this predicament hundreds of times before; staring up at the ceiling, wasting the days away as the curtains blocked the light and shielded him from the reminder of another sun daring to rise beyond his window. His energy would be drained and his willingness to so much as brush his teeth was obsolete. He’d known what it felt like to not be able to get out of bed.  

This was different.  

He had somewhere to be. He actually wanted to get up. He really fucking wanted to.

But the pain in his arm had flared to one of the worst episodes he’d had in months and it rendered him useless; the arm that was both there and not there. He could feel his left hand curl to a fist, could feel the itch on his palm, but when he tried to scratch it, he was only met with thin air, his right hand sinking to the mattress in search of the sensation that didn’t exist.  

It was infuriating.  

The nerve endings in his shoulder were going haywire. It felt like his arm was being ripped from his body and it took nearly all the energy he had not to let it consume him. He’d even gone as far to bite off a piece of his cheek in an effort to suppress the lump in his throat.  

Sam would have frowned at that, spewed him some bullshit about how crying can be therapeutic and Steve would nod his head annoyingly in agreement, but Bucky was tougher than that. He had to be tougher than that. If he allowed himself to unlatch that gate, it would consume him whole. He’d drown.  

Hinges squeaked at the front entrance as the door swung open and a pair of heavy footsteps came rushing into the apartment.  

“I’m coming, buddy! Hold on!” Sam called, the plastic swish of the grocery bag handing off his arms dropping to the floor. Bucky tried to concentrate on the sound of running water, the bottle of pills shaking in the small orange bottle, and not on the pain threatening to tear him in half.  

The door to his bedroom flung open and Sam rushed in with a glass of water and his fist closed around two red capsules. He paused in the frame, a frown pushing down at his mouth, and Bucky could only imagine what he looked like; disheveled, sweating, laying in day old clothes and muddled sheets. His right hand was shaking.  

“Alright, help me out, Barnes,” Sam said, setting the glass down on the bedside table. He placed a steady hand on Bucky’s back to help push himself upright. Bucky swung his legs off the side of the bed, finding his balance before Sam placed the pills in his hand.  

Bucky threw them back into his mouth, holding his hand out for the glass of water that would come next. It landed in his grip and he gulped down the medication. There was no instant relief with pain like this, but the knowledge it would soon wear off to something manageable was enough.  

“Thanks,” he mumbled out, voice tense as he struggled to find it.  

“Insurance companies are assholes,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head, though he patted Bucky on the knee. “Cutting off coverage for a fucking vet with no warning like that? Can’t believe you’ve been without this stuff for almost a week. It’s messed up.”  

Bucky had come to expect it. He knew something had to go wrong eventually with how things were starting to turn around. He’d actually been looking forward to seeing you at the library and almost went that next day if it wasn’t for the sudden attack on his own body. He'd tried to deal with it on his own, thinking he might sleep it off, but then it became unbearable. Insurance wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have the energy to argue on the phone with them all day. Thankfully, Sam did.  

Except now it was a day before the next book club meeting and Bucky didn’t know how he was supposed to face you. Part of him wondered if you'd be disappointed, if maybe you’d steal a glance over the doors and hope that it was him walking through, only to be let down as each day passed by. The other half wondered if you’d care at all.  

But he’d seen the way you’d smiled at him, how you’d lit up at the idea of him stopping by.  

You’d care.  

He wasn’t sure if that hurt worse, seeing as he never showed up.  

“You could still go.”

Bucky sighed at Sam’s suggestion. He wasn’t teasing him, wasn’t wearing that shit-eating grin. He was being serious. It was the kind of look that reminded Bucky that under it all, Sam was one of his closest friends, one of the few that stuck around when everything went to shit.

“She’ll want to see you,” Sam continued, nudging Bucky’s side with a soft smile, but Bucky shook his head, unconvinced.

“What am I supposed to say to her, Sam?” Bucky groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “’Sorry I stood you up, but I felt like my hand was being sawed off on an arm I don’t even fucking have?’”

“Why not?” Sam shrugged, earning a glare in response he let roll off his shoulders with ease. “She’d understand, Buck. She knows what comes with the territory here. She’s a lot more familiar with this stuff than you think.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a pang of jealousy burning hot in his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you should ask her why she got involved with the VA in the first place.”

Bucky pressed his lips to a thin line, a silence coming over them. That was an immensely personal question; one akin to someone asking him how he’d lost his arm. He wasn’t sure that was an answer you’d be willing to share.  

Sam exhaled a heavy breath, patting Bucky three times on the knee before he stood up. “Let the meds kick in, but promise you’ll try to go, alright?”

Bucky stared up at Sam for a moment before he conceded with a short nod. The pain in his shoulder was starting to lessen, at least. It didn’t feel like his arm was being torn from his body or a knife was plunging into a part of him that didn’t exist anymore. It would likely get back to a place he could deal with within the hour.

“I promise,” Bucky said. “I’ll go.”

***

A brush of warm air filtered in through the vents as Bucky stepped inside the library. It was bigger than he remembered with large stain glass windows on the outer walls, filtering in a colorful sunlight onto the aisles upon aisles of books. At the center, just ahead of the entrance, was a reception desk. Bucky exhaled a tense breath in an attempt to rid himself from the nerves rattling in his veins and made his way to the woman sitting behind the counter.  

She was reading quietly in her seat, a pair of glasses on a beaded chain perched at the very tip of her nose. She didn’t look up in his direction until he stood at the edge of the desk, and only then, she caught glance of him over the top of her glasses before a smile rose on her lips.  

“Can I help you, young man?”  

Bucky cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to meet someone. She, uh, works here. Y/n.”

The woman nodded. She wore the kind of smile on her face Bucky was familiar with. He’d seen it in Sam about a dozen times in the last week; the kind of smile that said ‘I was right.’

“You must be Sergeant Barnes,” she said as she picked up the radio from the desk.  

Bucky nodded quickly, glancing over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he felt jittery. He tried not to let the fact that you’d clearly talked to this woman about him throw him completely off his game. If he even had game to begin with…  

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied with an even tone. She smirked.  

“Y/n,” she called into the radio, “you have a guest at the front desk.”

The woman held up a finger to him though it trembled with age, signaling for him to wait a moment. Bucky nodded, tucking his hand into his pocket as he silently made his way over to the series of chairs lined along the wall.  

He gripped his fist tight inside his pocket, trying to ignore the pulsing in his shoulder. It had lessened considerably since Sam brought him his meds, but it hadn’t gone away completely. Showering had taken longer than usual and it took him nearly four minutes just to pull a shirt over his head. His army jacket hung over his shoulders, wrapped in a protective layer, loose sleeve at his side. 

“If you’re pulling my chain, Mrs. Jefferson…”  

Bucky perked up at the sound of your voice. You were crossing the main entrance from the staircase, half jogging to the counter where the woman, Mrs. Jefferson, was grinning to herself from behind her book.  

You draped over the counter, toes barely keeping hold on the tile floors as you attempted to reach for her book, but she snatched it from your grasp just in time. You huffed, sinking back down the floor.  

“It’s not funny!” you whined and Bucky almost felt a little guilty for not making his presence known yet, but you were just so cute the way you slumped your shoulders and glanced back at the entrance.  

Mrs. Jefferson pointed over to where Bucky had slowly begun to make his way towards you, but you folded your arms over your chest. Bucky cleared his throat when he stood a few paces off your shoulder, but you didn’t seem to hear him.  

Mrs. Jefferson caught Bucky’s eye before she turned her attention back to you. “Sweetie, he’s—”

“He’s not coming, okay?” you groaned and Bucky felt a stone drop into his stomach. “I—I thought he would but… I was wrong.”

Bucky parted his lips to speak but suddenly his throat was dry. Mrs. Jefferson’s smile started to fade. Clearly, Bucky wasn’t the only one who heard the disappointment in your voice, the sliver of heartbreak, too. He tried to speak, to call your name, to say something, but he was marbled stone.  

“I’m going back to work.”

There wasn’t time to pull his words together before you slammed head first into Bucky’s chest. He stumbled back a few paces, surprised, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth.  

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” You stilled, taking in who was standing in front of you. “Bucky?”

He pressed out a smile, though his ears were burning red. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No! N-no, you’re totally fine! I didn’t—I didn’t think you were—” You blinked a few times before your eyes darted back at Mrs. Jefferson who only smirked from behind her book, adjusting the glasses on the tip of her nose. You turned back to Bucky, brushing out the hem of your skirt and wrapping the thick layer of a lavender colored cardigan tightly around your waist, almost like a blanket.  

You exhaled a nervous breath, a nervous smile lifting into your cheeks. “I’m happy you came.”

“It would have been sooner, I swear,” Bucky replied quickly, watching helplessly as your smile brightened into a laugh. “But, um, my uh—”  

He chewed on the edge of his lip. Was he really going to tell you what kept him held up in his room for days on end? Would it bitter the sweet way you looked at him to know that he was a mess under a poorly constructed surface, tied together with string and scotch tape? But you were looking at him so fondly, he wondered if there was anything he could say that could take that away.

“My arm,” he admitted, waiting for a flash of disgust on your face that never came. You softened a bit, but your eyes never left his. He cleared his throat. “It, um… It was just acting up. I ran out of meds and the pain it—it got bad. The kinda pain that sorta makes me wish I had the arm just so I could saw it off myself.”

Shit. He hadn’t mean to say that much but there was just something about the way you looked at him that made him feel like he couldn’t say a damn wrong thing. You pursed your lips, nodding in as much understanding as you could offer. You gestured to the staircase and Bucky followed you without question.  

“I would have been here last week,” Bucky finished because he needed you to know. He couldn’t stand the idea of you being upset, of that sliver of disappointment in your voice when you’d accepted he wasn’t going to show. He needed you to know he’d tried.  

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you said simply, though he could tell you appreciated it nonetheless. You offered him a smile, one that washed away any feelings of doubt that crept up to the surface. The pain in his shoulder was long forgotten when you looked at him like that.  

“I just wanted you to know.”

I just wanted you to know I’m trying.

He had something to look forward to now, a reason to get out of his bed and open the curtains and look at the fucking sun for once. He had reason to shower and go outside and shove away all the thoughts of self-doubt and paranoia because there was something incredible waiting for him beyond the door.  

I just wanted you to know you’re the reason I’m trying.

“Come on,” you grinned, leading him to the staircase. “I have a few books in mind you might like.”  

Your hand extended in his direction, but you caught yourself when you realized what you were doing. It was seamless enough that you easily played it off as you tugged your sweater tight around your body, but he noticed. It was an intimate gesture, a closeness he hadn’t known in years.  

He hadn’t remembered what it felt like to crave something like that.

***

It didn’t take long for Bucky to settle on The Martian by Andy Weir. It was the first book you pulled from the shelves, one amongst a series of alternatives you had ready in the event this one didn’t appeal to him. All it took was a single glance over the back cover, a slight incline in his brow, and he was sold.

“I trust you,” was all Bucky had said; so simply, as if it didn’t take the breath straight from your chest.   

Bucky didn’t have a library card you realized as you brought him back to the front desk. He’d sheepishly asked to check it out on your account, but you were determined to see more of him and you hoped that by getting him his own card, he might be more inclined to come back. Not that you explained it that way per say, but he didn’t object at least.

It had taken a lot less time than either of you anticipated and you found yourself following him to the exit, both of you dragging your feet.

“So, um…” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice. “That was easy.”

“Yeah,” you scratched at the back of your neck, glancing to the clock hanging high on the eastern wall. “I hope you like it after all this trust you’re putting in my judgement.”

“I’m sure I will.”

A short silence swept over. Neither of you moving to leave. A couple swerved around you in an effort to get to the doors. The silence wasn’t awkward, but there was a nervous energy in it, like you were both waiting for the other to make the first move. Only, you both did it at once.  

“Would you want to—”

“I’m off at four—”

You bit down on your lips, suppressing a laugh. You gestured for him to go first. His looked so sweet with the pink in his cheeks. A man who had been once rendered as a weapon and he wore a blush in his cheeks. Your stomach held butterflies in its cage.  

“There’s a coffeeshop nearby,” he continued nervously. “I was thinking I could replace that coffee of yours I spilled last week…”

Your cheeks were starting to ache from how wide you were smiling. “Give me five minutes? I just need to wrap things up with Mrs. Jefferson and then I’m yours.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of something unreadable on his face. He shook it off quickly and nodded, telling you he’d wait by the chairs along the wall until you were ready. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the desk that you’d realized what you’d said.  

I’m yours.

A harmless saying; one people used every day in passing. Still, you felt that same surge of energy at the thought. From the twists in your stomach and the stammer in your heart, you knew that if he’d asked, it would be true.  

***

Bucky watched as you scurried back to the main desk, a few quick glances back over your shoulder in his direction like you were making sure he was still there. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it ached in your cheeks. He’d never known anyone to smile as much as you did, like you had this limitless supply of joy eager to be tapped into. He couldn’t help but feel a twist in his stomach, knowing he had been able to syphon some of that joy and bring it to the surface. It was him you were smiling at. It felt like a dream.

He glanced down at the book nestled into the sleeve of his bag; a stunning ombre in shades of orange to red to black, a lone astronaut in the center – like he was floating adrift. You’d told him it was a story of survival, of the intricacies of humanity and human connection. It was funny at times and filled with science beyond your pay grade, but it was mesmerizing.  

There was an unspoken hope he could read in your eyes that he might connect to the main character, Mark Watney in his search for connection, in his desperate hope to free himself from the isolation, in his resilience. You’d said Mark was an exceptional character, one with courage and determination to be admired.  

Bucky wasn’t sure he could stand up to the likes of Mark Watney, but he would certainly try.  

The glimmer in your eye as you spoke about the book, almost as if it were an old friend, was enough to convince him. For the first time in years, he felt the urge to read when he got home, just so he could see the look on your face in book club when you realized he’d already started it. He wanted to make you proud, wanted to see more of your smile. It was his new drive.  

A few minutes later, you came jogging back up to him. Your purse hung over your shoulders, a few new books of your own tucked under your arm. You’d done more than finish your shift at the desk though, he realized, because his eyes flickered to a reflective shine on your lips, one that hadn’t been there before. You’d put on lip gloss.

His heart flipped.  

“Ready?” you asked, gesturing to the doors. All bright eyes and sunshine as you looked at him.  

“There’s a café called Luciana’s not too far from here. I’ve heard good things about it. Might be quiet,” Bucky offered and a flash of something unreadable crossed your features. “Do you know it?”

“I go there every Sunday before book club! It’s my favorite,” you replied, nearly skipping in your steps. “Replacing my coffee and getting it right down to the same shop? I’m impressed, Bucky.”

He chuckled, hanging his head as he followed you down the descending staircase and into the heavy flow of pedestrian traffic. He’d forgotten how busy the sidewalks could get at rush hour and the smile quickly drained from his face, though he wouldn’t let you see.  

Bucky tried to focus on you as the strangers circled in around him, how you were laughing at the coincidence of it all, starting on a tangent of your favorite donuts at the shop. Your voice was like a beacon and he did his best use it as a guide.  

But he could feel the quicken pace of his heart inside his chest, how it thumped through his ribs and pulsed into his head the closer strangers got to him. He swerved out of the way of a tourist who was too busy looking down at his phone to notice Bucky in his path. He kept his head down, hand clenched tightly in his jacket pocket, eyes staring at the concrete.  

Teenagers were whispering behind him, snickering under their breath, and Bucky could hear the harsh ‘shhh’ of a father at wit’s end. His lungs felt tight, certain that the boys were mocking the loose sleeve hanging down by his side. He could have taken it if here were on his own. His ears would flush red and a wash of shame and embarrassment would flood his senses, but he could have taken it.  

Not with you by his side. Not when you could be privy to the harsh stares and the cruel voices, the validation to a fear he’d known to be true long before he met you – that he was a broken mess of who he used to be and he would never find that sense of normalcy again. He was kidding himself into thinking that you could ever want someone like—

“Bucky?”

When he looked up at you, your smile had fallen away, replaced with concern. It must not have been the first time you called his name. He didn’t know what to say. He felt small, like a child, embarrassed that even on a good day the influx of people still rendered him to a state of panic.  

“Come on,” you said quietly, glancing around to an alley off your shoulder. “Let’s take the scenic route.”  

He followed gratefully, staring at your shoulder blades as you led him away from the busy hustle of the crowd and along empty side streets and residential neighborhoods. It would take longer this way, but you didn’t seem to mind. You were too busy admiring the architecture of the brownstones and the beautiful array of plants and flowers hanging along the windows. In the open space, you skipped a few paces ahead, arms out wide and twirled around, simply because you could. You laughed and it echoed up along the buildings.  

Bucky could have handed you his heart right then. He could have pulled it straight from his chest and set it into your palms. He wondered if you would handle it with the tender sort of care he hoped you would. His heart was fraying and damaged, after all. It required a gentle touch.  

You fell back in line with him easily and you checked to make sure the next block wasn’t too busy before you led him down another side street. He tried to ignore the voices telling him he was a burden, that his baggage was dragging heavy at your feet, but it crept to the surface no matter how many times you smiled at him.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled out, willing his voice to be stronger than it felt. “I don’t know why this is such an issue for me. I was fine on the way over.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Bucky,” you said gently, slowing your pace until you came to a stop.  

Bucky dragged his feet, stopping along a bush of pink hydrangeas planted outside a stunning brick townhome. From the corner of his eye, he watched as your hand reached out to him instinctively, almost in slow motion, and you only paused as you realized what you were doing and pulled back. You cleared your throat.

“I’m not ever someone you have to apologize to about this stuff, okay?” you continued with a kind of sincerity in your voice, Bucky didn’t have a choice but to believe you. The way you looked at him nearly pulled him to pieces. “It comes and goes. Waxes and wanes. There’s no fault. No blame. Just tell me if something’s wrong, so I can help. That’s all I ask.”

Were you speaking from experience? Did you know someone who had been as shattered as he was? Was it the reason Sam wanted him to ask about why you were involved with the VA to begin with?  

It was quiet on the side street; the only sound the distant footsteps from traffic up ahead and the low rumble of car engines in the distance. A bird chirped from a low handing branch above.  

You shoved your hands into your pockets in an effort to keep yourself from reaching for his. He was surprised at the twist in his stomach when he wished you would have tried just one more time. Maybe he could have had some courage to take it.  

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, feeling a weight lift from his chest. When you smiled again it was small— a little heavy— but it touched your eyes. There was a relief in it, maybe an appreciation, too. It swept away some of the anxiety from his veins.  

“Okay.” Your smile widened as you continued to walk down the sidewalk. Bucky found himself feeling a little lighter as he followed behind.  

When the two of you approached the main street again along the block Luciana’s was tucked away in, Bucky didn’t feel as though he was suffocating anymore. He could sense his reflexes picking up, a subtle increase in his heart rate, but he walked a little closer to you, your hip bumping against his every so often and he found that it grounded him. It kept him firm on the surface when he felt like he was floating up into a distant unknown. He wondered if you knew the extent to which you affected him.  

Luciana’s was quiet inside as Bucky jutted out ahead of you to reach for the door. A soft strum of an acoustic guitar and a Spanish speaking singer’s intricate melody hummed over the speakers. He felt a solid breath of air fill his lungs, tasting of coffee beans and fresh pastries.  

“Welcome to—” a voice called from behind the counter before she paused, eyes falling on you. “Y/n!”  

A woman ran out from behind the counter, dressed in a stained apron and a long, bright pink dress, and held her arms out to you. You laughed as she enveloped you to her chest.  

“My darling! It is not Sunday, you know. You’re getting your days mixed up!” she exclaimed, wagging her finger at you. She didn’t even give you time to explain before she turned to Bucky, who suddenly felt a burn of heat on his face. “Ah! You finally brought me one of your boys!”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, turning to you quickly. His stomach dropped.  

“She means at the VA,” you explained, a little embarrassed at her implication as you shuffled your feet, eyes darting at the floor. Bucky raised an eyebrow in realization, eyes flickering back to the woman – who he assumed to be Luciana herself – as she scurried back around the counter. He noticed then that she was wearing slippers on her feet.  

“Come, come!” She called eagerly, waiting with a tapping toe at the register.  

You and Bucky exchanged a glance, a breath of a laugh escaping before you stepped up to the counter. You didn’t hesitate in your order, though you took some extra time in looking over the pastries and donuts after Bucky told you to pick something out for him. You put so much thought into it, it was really quite sweet. He waited until you reached down for your purse to slip his card over the counter to Luciana.  

She wore that same smile he’d seen on Mrs. Jefferson at the library. That smirk. Like they knew something he didn’t.  

You heard the ring of the cash registered and looked up at him, agape. You swatted his arm without thinking twice about it and there was a comfort in that. He laughed, taking his coffee and settling in at a table by the windows as you followed behind.  

As he watched you across the table, your eyes glancing out to the pedestrians as they walked back, nursing the steaming mug of coffee between your hands, that morning suddenly felt like it was a life time ago.  

Had he really been paralyzed with pain, unable to move from his bed, just a few hours earlier? It felt like a century had passed in between. In a rare indulgence, Bucky let himself wonder what it would feel like to spend all his time with you; if maybe time moved so fast it swept him off his feet or if it moved slow enough to allow him to catch every second.  

All he knew was that he wanted more.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Imagine them slow dancing at the wedding 😔😔😔

“Do you wanna dance?”

“Don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Watson.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because every time we do, you almost end up breaking my toes.”

“Just shut up and dance with me.”

“Are you gonna actually follow my lead or…?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Only during sex. You’re stubborn as fuck the rest of the time.”

“I should have brought Niall instead.”

“Then you’d end up with broken toes, and you’d have to drag his unconscious body back to the hotel. You know how much he just loves open bars.”’

They eventually do end up on the dance floor, carefully floating back and forth across the sparkly gold tiles, her arms snaked around his neck as he grasps her waist delicately and guides her through the motions. She lays her head on his strong shoulder, letting her eyes drift closed as he presses his lips to her temple, his skin cold and wet from the champagne he’d been sipping.

“This isn’t so bad.” Harry jests in a quiet voice, squeezing her hips playfully. “I’ve yet to lose a phalange.”

Y/N snorts softly, giving a vengeful tug to the baby curls along the nape of his neck. “You’re insufferable.”

Harry sucks at his teeth sharply in a mild indifference, pursing his lips as if mulling over her claim. “Maybe, but I look fucking incredible in a suit. Makes for good arm candy, no?”

She rolls her eyes beneath her closed lids. “Pretty much, yeah. That’s the only reason I brought you— so I could flaunt you to all the girls I hated back in high school.”

The vampire whispers into her ear, his chilly breath causing a shiver to slither down her spine. “Is it working?”

“Natalie hasn’t stopped staring at your ass since you walked in, so I’d say my plan is going perfectly.” Y/N quips in return, cracking one eye open and glancing over his shoulder at the suspect in question. “I don’t think she’s blinked once in the last ten minutes.”

Harry cranes his head to the side, discreetly following her line of vision to its target. Sure enough, the young woman Y/N had mentioned is ogling him shamelessly, and when their sights catch, she immediately jerks her gaze elsewhere. He can hear blood rush into her cheeks even from across the room. “Ballsy, that one. Should I clench ‘fuck off’ in Morse Code and see what happens? These pants are extra fitted in the back, I think the message will read just fine.”

Y/N snorts, shaking her head in amusement as Harry spins her easily, drawing her back into his arms with a coy grin plucking his dimples into existence. “I don’t think she’d get the memo, honestly. She’s one drink away from trying to steal you from me.”

“Ooh, scandalous.” Harry’s jaw drops open in an exaggerated face of faux shock, the corners of his rosy mouth twitching into a mischievous smirk. They always get so unbelievably pink after he’s had alcohol. “A little bit of Smalltown drama during someone’s big day? Maybe a cat fight? You’ve got a sick left hook, I think you could take her.”

“I know I could take her.”

“Scrappy. I like it.”

“It’d be poetic justice for that time she broke into my locker and stole my favorite phone case.”

“Did you get it back?”

“No.” Y/N grumbles, resting her chin against his collarbone as they drift further away from the culprit, her features pinching due to the resurfaced spite. “The administrator didn’t believe me because her step-dad was a family friend. Absolute bullshit.”

Harry whistles in impressed shock. “She had connections at fifteen? Insane.”

“Yeah, she did. And she also had mono, since she connected tonsils with half the football team.”

A loud, spontaneous laugh bursts from Harry’s mouth at her petty dig, the volume high enough that the couples around them look over with irritation clear on their faces. He attempts to play it off as a cough, murmuring an apology as he twirls her away from their angered stares, wrestling down another round of boyish giggles. “Damn. Went straight for the jugular with that one, didn’t even hesitate.”

“She’s a bitch, she deserves it.” Y/N remarks in a matter-of-fact tone, her hands beginning to coast down his biceps, making their way across his torso. “I hold a grudge.”

“Mm.” Harry pulls her closer until her chest is flushed fully against his own, taking this chance to glimpse down at her cleavage, which swells as a result of his actions. “Trust me, I know.”

“Can’t help it, it’s fun.” The girl’s palms continue to travel lower, mazing over his hips and across the dip of his spine, finding perch within the back pockets of his dress pants. “Just like this.”

She gives his backside a sudden, obvious grope; anyone looking would have just gotten quite the eyeful.

Harry jolts lightly at the intrusion, his sculpted brows nearly flying off his forehead at her unapologetically brazen move. “So now you’re defiling me in public, is that it?”

“You do it to me all the time.” Y/N deadpans, scowling up at him pointedly.

“Touché. But you hardly ever do, so what’s your incentive? Wanna put on show?”

“More like flash a warning.”

“God, you’re so hot when you’re vindictive.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Tell Me Your Mine, Darling

Western AU 

18+ ONLY

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

Warnings: prostitution, mentions of smut, alcohol, cursing, violence, mentions cheating 

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Hey! As always, this is unedited! Please let me know if I missed anything to include as a warning. I’m on the fence if I should make this a longer story, I like the idea of this being a stand alone, but let me know what you think! I’d love to hear any feedback cause this is my first attempt at a Western AU :)

Sign-Up for the new taglist!

The player piano echoed throughout the whole saloon, bouncing off the walls as patrons moved about the crowded room. The peppy music was perfect for dancing as a few of the men threw back shots of liquid courage and asked some of the women working tonight for a dance. It was a night where the people who came in through the batwing doors could forget about their troubles and the existence of sins, and partake in merry drink and debauchery. The night air hung heavy and the room smelled of sweat, cheap liquor and even cheaper perfume. 

The women were scantily clad in dresses only slightly less revealing than their undergarments, and the men still in their clothes from long days of travel. Cowboy hats, rugged trousers, and boots that lost their shine years ago. Girls carried around large trays of shots and lagers, passing them around to the drunk souls who struck rich for a night and opened tabs at the bar. 

It was a busy night both downstairs in the saloon, but also many of the girls were leading men upstairs to their beds, for a warm place to lay their head and anything else they can afford. That was the secret that kept this dilapidated building up and running. The music and the watered down liquor wasn’t enough to keep the sheriff from closing and condemning the building. 

If the owner was honest, he knew what kept the sheriff from coming and toting him away to rot in one of the two cells down at the jail. Not only was the sheriff partial to a drink or a few each night after the sun goes down, but he was particularly taken with one of the girls who worked there. Sure, the sheriff must’ve had his turn with every girl in the joint, but there was something about you which made the sheriff absolutely smitten. Of course, no one dared admit to seeing his obviously growing affections but the owner knew as long as you were here, and his glass was refilled, he had nothing to worry about. No one quite knows what happened. He went from coming in every Saturday night asking for whichever girl is free and then it went to asking only for you, every week without fail. 

People theorize that maybe it’s your honeyed smile or the sweetness in your voice. The ability to deceive every man into thinking they’re the only one to ever touch you. The ability to put on the act of the farmer’s daughter while having the dirtiest mouth on this side of the Mississippi. No matter what drew him in, the sheriff had declared you his girl and anyone with half a brain knew better than to try to say different. 

Nothing was any different about tonight, you watched from one of the stools at the bar while the other girls worked the room. Sitting with your legs crossed, your dress skirted up high enough to show the tops of your garters, you sip on your drink stealing glances at the doors waiting for him to arrive. You can’t help but let out an impatient sigh, balancing your high heel on your toe as you watch the clock that’s mounted on the wall behind the bar. 

“Slow night?” the bartender asked as she topped off your drink. You smiled, but it fell a little flat, not meeting your eyes. 

“Every man here is scared to come near me,” you chuckle dryly. Not that you were necessarily complaining- but you worried more and more as the savings you kept under your bed dwindled. The sheriff was a regular who paid incredibly well, but he was feared. And no one else would touch what he called his. You wanted to save up to get out of this town, salvage whatever was left of this life and do something. You didn’t want to live cooped up in that room and in this town for the rest of your days. You were luckier than most, that you understood and never tried to forget that, but still you found yourself daydreaming. 

You thought about the men you’ve slept beside and the wild stories they told you. You didn’t want to live a hard life, the tedious and unfulfilling work they told you about. But, oh, you were so envious of how they traveled. Seeing the naked lands of the country and going to different towns. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to do, but you wanted to have the option. So in a little cigar box under your bed. You scrimped and saved what you could from each week. But, being the sheriff’s favorite girl, meant no one else dared touch you, meaning you have been having to open that little box of savings more and more. 

“That ain’t the worst thing in the world,” you heard a voice next to you. Soft, and velvety- you’d recognize the voice anywhere as Dottie, one of the older women who had been working there much longer than you. Middle-aged, but completely sensual in her mannerisms and her voice. She had the ability to captivate an entire room with her prominent curves and everything you know, you learned from her. 

“I know, I know,” you try to explain, but she feels your frustration. She understands it, and she knows it better than you do. She’d been there herself. The restlessness, the feeling of being incomplete, the utter fear of your life being wasted away under men whom you’re never going to fall in love with. She knows.

But she also knows the harsh realities of this world and how it treats lost souls like you, and she doesn’t want to see how it can hurt you like it hurt her. She understood how demeaning this line of work is, and how from here there is no way to move up in the world. It’s a limbo, where you're stuck in this saloon, listening to the complaints of men who despite their hardships will always have it better than you. However, the alternatives for women like you are far less desirable outcomes for your lives. 

“Appreciate the gift you’re being given, sweetness,” she chuckles, watching as the bartender makes her usual. “As long as that sheriff keeps coming around, you’re working less for the same room and board the rest of us pay.” 

You know she’s right. You know there’s so many things wrong about this town you can’t change. You can’t afford to worry about things like that, while so many of the people in this little one room saloon are just trying to survive tomorrow. It’s never going to be an ideal, and the world is much too cruel for miracles to happen for a woman like you who sold their soul. 

Jesus befriended Mary Magdalene, so it never made much sense to you when folks in this town claimed you were damned to spend your own eternity in hell. You weren’t sure if the people in this town actually read the Bible. Granted, you didn’t know much about religion yourself. But long ago you learned religion was a luxury only the wealthy people in this town could afford to follow, and they were the ones who could afford to participate in the sins you peddled. But, that was just one woman’s observation. 

Dottie disappeared back into the crowd as quickly as she arrived, and soon you were back to watching the doors again, waiting for the sheriff to relieve you of your ever growing boredom. The place was in full swing as a posse of men you don’t recognize entered, talking about how they were on their way to the coast, to mine for gold and become millionaires. You can’t help but roll your eyes, and you keep to yourself as they whoop and holler, making demands of the barkeep to send out a round for the whole place on their dime. Their rowdiness makes you flinch, and for the first time tonight, you find yourself anxiously waiting for the appearance of the sheriff so you don’t have to entertain the likes of them. Maybe God does like you, because before one of the men staring at you has an opportunity to saunter over, the saloon doors open suddenly and you can be saved. 

You know you shouldn’t find it thrilling, but there is something about being his favorite that fuels your ego on nights like this. The most commanding man in the town, calling you his- making you have this untouchable status for the night. It was the closest you think you can ever be to royalty. In that bar, on the nights he regulars, you’re a Queen. It’s a rush that's definitely spoiled you and yes, in the moment, you absolutely revel in the power you feel as he changes the atmosphere in the room- with his hardened blue eyes locked right on you. 

“Evening, sheriff,” you coo and shoot him a smile, genuinely happy to see him. 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Lee, darling?” He smirks, placing his hands on your knee so you uncross your legs and he can stand between them. The feeling of his hands on the exposed skin of your upper thighs sent a tingle right up your spine. His thumbs slowly rubbed circles on your skin, making you shiver. 

You rest your hands on his chest, rubbing gently, your hands shamelessly feeling the strength of his chest under his shirt. You straighten out the gold sheriff’s badge on his chest, and you can feel him tremble slightly at your touch, which strokes your ego more than it already was. 

“I forget,” you tease, straightening out his tie. He smirks, looking down at you as his hands trail up higher, resting on your hips under the skirt of your dress. “I need you to keep coming back and remind me,” you flirt shamelessly. 

“Your usual, sheriff?” the bartender asks over the loud music, people settling back into their own business after the excitement of the sheriff arriving has died down. Lee replies with a quick thank you but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“Did you miss me, darling?” he quips, rubbing your sides, his thumbs trailing across the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I always do,” you wink, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to the side of his jaw. “It’s so slow when you aren’t here,” you practically whine, pouting your lips slightly. 

“I’m sorry about that, sugar,” he mumbles, leaning in and trailing kisses down your neck. 

“It’s your fault you know,” you tease, your nails scratching his scalp affectionately. 

“Is it now?” he chuckles, as he nips at your skin. 

“No one else comes near me,” you admit, and you feel him smile against your skin. 

“Good,” he murmurs against your collarbone. 

“Ice is melting,” you chuckle, referring to the drink he’s ignoring on the counter. He just chuckles, pulling away only long enough to finish the drink in one long sip, and you watch as his Adam’s apple moves, and how the condensation of the glass drips onto his knuckles. 

After he places the empty glass on the counter, you pull his arm to lead him upstairs with you. He takes your hand and let’s you lead the way, he knows like the back of his hand, and at this point better than his own house.

“Impatient, darling?” he teases, “Not going to ask me for a dance?”

“You never say yes,” you giggle, “Figured you want to have some privacy.”

“I might’ve said yes,” he retorts and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Would you have?” you counter and he shakes his head no with a devilish grin. 

“One of these days, doll.” 

“I’ll be an old maid,” you joke, continuing up the stairs and down the hallway towards your room. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he says. You don’t know exactly what he means, but you don’t push him for an explanation. As soon as the door clicks closed behind you both, Lee’s lips attach to yours like if he waits a second longer he’d evaporate. 

“Been dreaming about this,” he mumbles against your neck, leaving a trail of love bites that send a shiver up your spine. “Think about you every night I can’t visit you.”

You noticed how much more intimate your interactions with the Sheriff were gradually becoming. You weren’t sure how much of it he meant. The way he fawned over you and treated you like something more. Plenty of times, men behaved this way, never admitting except behind closed doors that that craved a much deeper sense of intimacy. You had always assumed the Sheriff was no different.

He’d take care of you, and you saw over time the way he handled you changed. It used to be rough and impersonal, oftentimes as well relying on you to do all the work so to speak. But, overtime, his visits became more of a mutual endeavor, and soon he was kissing you like how he is now, or begging to let him settle his head between your parted thighs, saying he felt good making you feel good. 

“I’m addicted to the feeling of your skin, darling,” he whispers as he lets his fingers linger as he pulls the straps of the dress down your arms. When the dress pools at your feet, he stares in awe like it’s the first time seeing you, and then soon enough his lips are on yours again and his hands are free to wander where they please. 

“Most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers as you work on taking off his shirt, teasingly slow at undoing the buttons. 

“You say that everytime,” you point out and he chuckles, running his hands up and down your sides. 

“Cause I mean it everytime,” he smirks, walking you back until the back of your knees hit the back of your bed and you lay down with him on top of you. 

One time a month or so back, you were sitting on top of the bar counter with him settled between your legs. You were using a rag to wipe blood off of his face after a messy fight that happened. Well, a fight that he started. 

“I didn’t like him looking at you like that,” he grumbled, still fuming and he winces slightly as you press the damp cloth to the cut by his brow. “Shouldn’t be touching you like that,” he slurs, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“Just means I’m doing my job right,” you chuckle, amused at his possessiveness. “It don’t mean nothing,” you say.

“It don’t mean nothing when it’s me either,” he pouts, with his eyes closed like he could fall asleep standing up. You are convinced he’s just drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying. He leans on you slightly to keep himself upright, and you move to wipe the blood that is smeared by the corner of his lips. 

He’s so handsome, you can’t help but observe. From a distance, sure he’s gruff and rough around the edges but he’s got the most handsome face you think you’ve ever seen pass through. You’ll never admit to yourself that you were taking your time patching him up so you could just look at him like this for a little longer. It’s always nice sometimes to pretend a situation is something that it’s not. 

“Tell me your mine, darling,” he almost whispers when his eyes flutter open again to look at you. His gaze on you felt heavy and you weren’t sure what to make of it. 

“I’m all yours, Sheriff,” you can’t help but chuckle, thinking he’s just fooling. Just trying to tease you. He frowns and looks so  sad, those damn blue eyes more expressive when he’s drunk. 

“Tell me your mine,” he asks again, like a whispered plea as his eyes roam over your face. 

“I’m yours.”

By the morning, he’s always gone. He always leaves more than necessary, insisting to you the night before not to tell the owner. He doesn’t want him taking a bigger percentage. He whispers not to worry, and to let him take care of you. He knows how much he affects your wages and he wants to do the right thing. 

Lee doesn’t like to pay you. It’s a horrible reminder to him that you don’t actually care one way or another if he shows up or not. It’s the terrible wake up call come morning that you aren’t actually his, as much as he asks you to say it. 

You’d just have to say the word and he’d do just about anything to make you love him back for real. But he knows that this can’t ever go further. You deserve to go off and see the places he hears you tell the other girls about. You don’t think he knows about you wanting to leave but of course he does. 

The pictures of far away cities are hung on your mirror held up between the frame and the glass. There’s a picture of New York that sometimes he’ll stay up staring at, knowing your heart ain’t tied down yet to one place like his is tied here. He can’t leave and he knows he can’t in good conscience ask you to stay. He knows you would, but not for the reasons he wants. 

Good god, you’re still young and have a spark in you that he damn well knows he doesn’t want to be the one to put out. He wants nothing more than for you to look at him and see you could be happy and be in love. But what life is that compared to the life you’re dreaming of. You have hopes, dreams, and Lee knows he isn’t at the center of any of them. 

So for now, he settles for the time you share with him when he comes by like tonight. Where he hopes he can silently tell you with his touches how much he feels for you. Where he can carefully tread the waters of sweet sentiments in hopes you’ll return them without him asking. It’s not real, none of it is. 

He can hold you close and touch every part of your body like it’s only his to see and feel. He can hear every noise you make and watch every reaction to his touches and it fuels him for now. It’s enough for now to leave bruises on your skin and pretend it’s enough to keep others from knowing you’re his. It’s not, because the marks won’t matter. 

He can feel himself inside you, and feel how your body reacts to him. The way to him, nothing will ever come close to the feeling of you around him. He’s addicted and he can’t go back. He’s been ruined by you, and no one else will ever come close to adding up to you. 

But it’s not real. He’ll go home in the morning, and lie to his wife one more time, swearing that it’s the last time he goes back. He’ll tell her he worked late and slept in the Sheriff’s office. He’ll make the promise that he’ll be home on the weekend. But it’s not real. Because, he knows that he’s going to find himself going back to you. And he prays to God you won’t be there.

Taglist:

@missyellowbirdie @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @weenersoldierr @msgodofmischief @lowercasegenius @demirunner​

[skiller0dani]

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

//

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

//

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

//

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

[luimagines]

Legend is Frankly Tired of Everyone’s crap

For the Uninitiated, this is a fic I’m writing for @twilightpoison a.k.a. @cafecourage and their favorite boy is Sky.

Enjoy Chapter three of this mess!

Masterlist

First chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

Content under the cut!

Legend watched his two teammates with side eyes and quiet remarks. He knew what they were going through before they even had a clue themselves. He knew those looks and the subtle (or not so subtle sometimes) glances they steal between each other.

Twilight and Pinky were the worst ones.

Twilight was bad before he learned that she liked him. Pinky at least was trying to be subtle with it and he had to be honest she was doing a good job. He had to admit that a permanent blush makes it seem like you’re never blushing at all.

Until they ended up at Wind’s Oasis and the Rancher felt the need to show off.

It was obnoxious.

But it was also highly amusing considering that girl was shamelessly staring at him, liking what she saw.

Legend hoped things went well for the two of them.

It was the other two that were going to give Legend a headache.

Sky was helplessly pining on one side and the other was so heavily in denial and in love that they couldn’t even stand next to the guy. Legend would rather suffer through the would-be love fest from the first pair then suffer through witnessing the song and dance of the other where there was a simple solution to both their problems.

Although if he had to be honest with himself and only with himself, he found this pair to be far more amusing. Mostly because Enno always seemed to completely shut down at the very thought of Sky.

Sky just got dreamy and starry eyed and whatever else happens when a man falls in love- but Enno? Total denial and total avoidance.

Their pride could be the end of them and while part of Legend wanted things to go well for the two of them, he knew that this could end badly if they didn’t get some communication going sooner or later. He fears it may never happen at all- but who was he to judge or to intervene? All he could do is watch… with snacks.. And maybe a drink.

Like... a few days ago when Sky punched a local out for asking about Enno in those clothes. 

Legend could have choked on his own spit.

Time and Warrior weren’t as enthused with dealing with the fallout but Wild laughed when he learned about it, so it must have been ok since they were in his Hyrule. But Legend didn’t even know Sky had it in him.

One punch.

And the other guy was out cold.

It was impressive.

And it reminded Legend to never piss him off- which is honestly a solid plan to begin with. Unfortunately it seems that they were only dropped off into the desert for a shopping trip because they were dropped in Time’s Era soon after.

Luckily for them Lon Lon ranch was just a day’s trip away.

Unluckily for them there was an ambush.

Enno and Pinky quickly ran for cover since they weren’t experienced in fighting and would only get in the way while they dealt with the upcoming issue. They learned quickly how to deal with their quota- which would have also been impressive in its own right if it wasn't also concerning how quickly they accepted and dealt with it. Legend wondered if they were used to fighting from where they were from, and then quickly banished the thought. He didn’t like that idea.

The monsters were simple enough but they had numbers on their side and that was always a pain in the neck. Not to mention that there were some wizzrobes that Legend wasn’t used to dealing with, which meant they had magic Legend didn’t know how to fight.

“They’re from my Hyrule!” Wilk called out, firing a shot at them- missing it- and then having to take down the monsters down in his immediate vicinity.

There were too many to reach the magic users, but if he could get a clear shot-

He flips over one of the beasts, slashing the monster over the head and ending it then and there, he takes out his own magic rod and takes aim. He doesn’t notice that both wizzrobes fire up an attack as he strikes, but he’s a second too slow.

The shots are fired and the wizzrobes go down but there’s no time to see the damage when they have to take care of the monsters that still surround them.

Legend dashes forward and sees both Sky and Warrior knocked out cold.

“Great.” He curses and stands guard over them instead, taking out his ranged weapons and begins his personal game of keep away.

“Hyrule!” Legend hears Twilight scream into the open as the monster begins to thin out, some even run away to be dealt with later. Wind chases after some of them to finish them off but other than that the battle is more or less finished. “We have an issue here!”

Legend looks over to where he saw that magic blast went and picks out Pinky’s hair easily from the distance. She’s holding something small with her arms and what looks to be the Champion’s cloak over her shoulder. She’s looking between the bundle and Twilight as if either thing would know what to do next and Legend takes a compulsory step in their direction before he remembers what also by his feet.

Legend nearly knocks himself over the head with his own staff before he kneels down and begins to shake the Captain awake again.

“Oh my god, are they ok?” Enno appears next to him from the woodwork and looks over the two of them. “They’re unconscious, of course they’re not, don’t answer that.”

Legend snorts a little as Enno’s internal monologue becomes vocalized and shakes Mr. Pretty Boy a little harder. “Hey, wake up!”

Enno gulps and stands over Sky for a minute before slowly crouching down and begins to shake him too. “H-hey… Get up please.”

Warrior groans and he begins to sit up before he even opens his eyes. “What happened? My head hurts.”

“I think you hit it on the way down Pretty Boy.” Legend tries to snark but then Warrior rubs his eyes and looks at him with such an open expression and easy going smile that it takes nearly all of Legend’s out with it.

“Thank you Legend. I appreciate it.”

Legend stares at him for a moment before helping him onto his feet. “Now I know you hit your head.”

“Do my eyes deceive me or have I been visited by one of the gods?” Sky says and both Legend and Warrior snap their heads in his direction.

“Uhhhh…” Enno’s eyes widen and they scramble away from the hero “N-no… you were not. You got hit by a wizzrobe.”

Legend blinks and nods to himself. That’s the most he thinks he’s heard Enno say to Sky consecutively. 

Progress.

“An angel then.” Sky grins. “Surely I’ve been blessed for your image to be the first thing I see.”

Enno’s face blooms red and they tense up considerably.

“Don’t make them uncomfortable Sky.” Warrior calls out, with a mild tone. “They won’t be able to handle being near you if you do.”

“I’d argue that’s already an issue.” Legend mutters under his breath as he watches the two of them interact.

“Legend!” Enno cries. “Help!”

He smirks a bit and places his hand on his hip. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“BRUH”

“Beloved, why? Can I not say what I feel openly?” Sky stands up and reaches out to them. “Will it be too much to say that I want our days to be filled with joy and happiness? To love and to be loved in return with only the company spent in others arms to ward away the chill of the unforgiving night and to travel the world hand in hand-”

Enno twitches with their hands momentarily before they arc their arm back and swing forward.

Legend’s eyes bulge at the action and both him and Warrior jolt forward to stop it but they’re too far away to be of any use.

Luckily, Sky catches their fist effortlessly and it stuns Enno enough that all intensity within them has been lost to the void, carried off to the wind. Sky then turns over their hand and opens it up, kissing the inside of their palm gently.

Enno blushes all to the tips of their ears all the way down to what looks like their arms and pulls back their hand roughly.

It’s only then that Legend realizes what’s happened between the two of them.

They were hit by the other wizzrobe and switched personalities.

Legend doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. “Hyrule!” Legend cries out. “We have another situation!”

“Turns out Wild was changed into a child.” Time says and it scares Legend out of his non-existent pants. “We need to get to Lon Lon as soon as possible.”

Legend groans and looks up at the sky, he doesn’t know whether to curse again or simply ask for a break but he knows he’s not going to get either of them. He holds him screaming internally and gives the Old Man a tired look.

Time sighs and shakes his head. ”I know.”

“To Lon Lon?”

“We’ll have to stop for the night.” Time reminds him. “But yes.”

“Oh joy.”

Tiem snorts but waves him off before looking over to Sky and Enno. Sky was bombarding the poor individual with compliments and love poems alike so Time decided to have mercy on them. “Sky, we’ll need your help to get some stuff collected since Wild is out of commission.”

“Wild? What happened to Wild?” Sky snaps to attention and stands straight with perfect posture.

It’s unnerving.

“He was also hit by the wizzrobe attack.”

“Is he alright?” Warrior speaks up, being uncharacteristically quiet the whole time. “”He’s not hurt is he?”

“No, just small.” Time answers with a small smile. “Hyrule is trying to reverse the damage but it’s a bit more complicated than he was prepared for and it’s draining his magic quicker than we think.”

“I’ll stop him.” Legend speaks up. “The poor sap is going to keep trying until he passes out entirely.”

“You do that.” Time nods.

“No! Legend, help!” Enno cries out again.

“You’re an adult, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Legend waves Enno off with a hand over his shoulder, not even looking in their direction.

If there’s a small smirk on Legend’s face then no one comments on it. Maybe this would be good for the two of them, besides Wild might take a bit more precedence at the moment anyway.

Twilight takes to being the cook for the night and Legend is pleasantly surprised by the result. He wouldn’t have thought to put pumpkin and fish and cheese of all things together for a soup but it was actually quite nice. And on top of that it was interesting to still see Wild attached to Twilight even now that he’s, what, seven? At most anyway. Luckily it seems that Pinky took over the role of keeping his distracted as Twilight worked to make sure everyone was fed.

Enno rolled out of Sky’s way, keeping him with eyesight but generally avoiding him. Despite Legend’s assumption he actually kept his distance. He looked over every now and then but he seemed more lost in thought if anything. His eyes held calculations that Legend wouldn’t even dare to imagine for the sake of keeping a headache at bay while Warrior was probably the calmest Legend has ever seen the man.

The whole thing was unnerving.. Just wrong.

Why couldn’t they also be turned into children?

Thankfully, Legend didn’t jinx anyone with the thought and the night passed by quite peacefully.

Legend’s actually glad, no one else was turned into children, it was so weird having one less set of hands to help pack everything up, who only distracted everyone else, and over all did nothing to help out. Not that Legend could blame him- he was a cute kid- but man he wishes Wild could help.

That being said they continued making their way to Lon Lon Ranch.

Wild had one of Pinky’s hands and one of Twilight’s in the others as they walked. The three of them made quite the image. Almost family like if you asked Legend, but he wondered if that was something Twilight was even considering at this point.

It made Legend for something he wasn’t sure about, he wasn’t sure if he wanted a family or children but he could see how happy the three of them were.

He’d think about it.

Once they got to Lon Lon Ranch they were greeted by Malon who welcomed them all with open arms and zero judgment.

She seemed a little concerned when her eyes landed on the little hero but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

He just asked her if he could play with the horses and then took off running after her when Malon said she’d show him the way.

Time and Twilight took Epona with them soon after and Enno and Pinky... well… Malon told Pinky to make herself at home so she just went inside and Enno quickly took Hyrule to make him rest which Legend gladly helped out with.

”Oh hell no!” Enno had grabbed Hyrule before he could talk to Twilight about helping out Wild. Legend walked over and grabbed Hyrule’s other arm dragging away

“You’re resting.” Legend frowned and helped Enno with getting him situated.

The poor boy was trying to undo that spell all morning and had once again exhausted himself even if the day had only just started.

Enno had somehow managed to get Warrior’s scarf, Twilight’s pelt, Wild’s cloak and Sky’s sailcloth (although Legend suspected that was more Wind’s doing) and had made a nest for themselves, Wind and Hyrule to sleep in and ignore the day’s work ahead for the group.

Legend left Hyrule in Enno’s hands and decided that maybe it was for the best he didn’t get himself affiliated with that.

At this point they all knew the drill, those who could still work anyway.

Which meant for as long they stayed, they’d help out.

It was a weird but now familiar sense of domesticity that allowed Legend to think about his future and what he wanted out of his life.

He didn’t feel like settling down just yet but now that he’s a glimpse of it, he remembers back to his conversation with the Champion the first time they came here. In the future... Maybe he will. But that’s then.

He’s young. He has time. He’s not gonna worry about what if’s and tomorrow's when there’s a threat to the tomorrow they might not even have. 

He walks around the ranch going around his designated chores and soul searching on his mind when he runs into Sky.

The mad man had made himself at home with the cuccos and the sight nearly sent Legend running in the other direction.

“Hello Vet. Care to join?” Sky greets him with a slight smirk on his face.

“Hell no.” Legend spits and takes a step back for good measure.

Sky laughs at his reaction and Legend feels like the world has been put off balance for Sky to look as smug as he does. Sky pets the bird like it’s the most natural thing in the world and that it isn’t two inches from his fingers or that there’s the potential to draw blood from such an unassuming posture.

Legend’s grip on the rake his hold tightens. “I’ll leave you to it bird boy-”

“Legend wait- one question… More than one actually but it depends on your answer to the first.” Sky sits up straighter, pausing in his ministrations on the bird on top of his lap. “Have you ever loved someone?”

Legend freezes momentarily and he can see that Sky noticed it. With a sigh, he forces himself to lose his grip on the rake and nod. “Once upon a time.”

“Did they like you back?” Sky asks and Legend has to stop himself from throwing the rake there and calling it a day.

“I like to think so.” He answers honestly- because it’s still Sky, and Legend has never been able to even try saying a half truth to his face. “We got pretty close, but I had to leave before anything could happen between us.”

“I see.” Sky nods and leans back. “I’m sorry to hear that. It sounds like you’re not over them.”

“Her. But you’re right- I’m not… she was… something else…” Legend gulps and takes a breath. “Is that all you needed to know?” “More or less. Thank you for your honesty.” Sky answers with another nod. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Do I even want to know what about?” 

“Enno.” Sky smirks again. “But what else is new?”

Legend snorts and rolls his eyes. “I can see that you’re smitten with them. At least you’re not as bad as the Rancher. The idiot can’t even hide how stuck stupid Pinky makes him. Poor guy is whipped.”

“And even now, he gets to play family with her now that Wild is a little boy and still attached to the both of them.” Sky frowns a bit.

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Perhaps.” Sky answers with startling honesty. “I’ve been thinking about it. I just need to think about how to go about this.”

“If they’re willing Sky, you can’t force them.” Legend warns, and he knows that Sky knows, but a part of him worries that the influence Warrior has on his brain might get him to think otherwise.

“I know, I know.” Sky waves him off. “You can go now, I won’t keep you here trapped with me.”

Legend nods and turns on his heel to avoid having the feathered monstrous beast stare him down and plan his murder.

Legend doesn’t really want to know what Sky is planning, especially if he’s under the influence of Warrior of all people. Not to mention that it will ruin the surprise when Sky eventually acts on his desires and said plan and Legend can see how that ends for him. He doubts it’ll work in the way he wants it to.

Enno is very persistent on avoiding him still- even more actually, now that Legend thinks about it.

But he has to give Sky some credit. Even if anyone else would assume that they’re hated due to the cold shoulder treatment and give up, Sky is still trying to melt their heart. It’s admirable that Sky is trying to somehow get this to work in his favor. But he’s probably crushed on the most stubborn person the planet could provide- wait… 

Legend nearly pokes his eyes out when he stops in his step and the rake he’s been holding gets caught in the ground.

Legend has met Sky’s Zelda, and he knows that Sky once held a torch there... Even if it died long before his adventure even happened.

Legend blinks and looks back the way he came, in the direction of where Sky was sitting and shakes his head affectionately.

He retracts his earlier thought.

Sky just happens to have a type.

With somewhat lighter spirits and well wishes to his teammate and friend, he goes on to go back to work and forget about a lot of things- only to find Warrior asleep next to the stables.

Next to the entryway there’s a bucket full of water and well…. The whole place stinks and who knows how long the Captain has been here. And Legend knows he wants to smell in front of polite company during lunch time… which should any minute now, now that he thinks about it.

An evil grin stretches across Legend’s face as he bends down to pick up the bucket, letting the rake rest on the wall. A vague voice in the back of his head tells him that this is more of Sky right now that he’s about to dump the water on top of but… But since Sky is also losing his head over someone he supposes that he would deserve it just as much and throws it.

The scream that follows makes the whole day worth it.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Since we're in the middle of a heat wave here's a What if AU one-shot prompt: "Anyone know when the air conditioning is getting fixed?"

It's warm. So very warm. They have been under siege by this intense heat wave for over week and to really top things off; yesterday the air conditioning went on a strike.

"Anyone know when the air conditioning is getting fixed?" Din sighs as he joins Dulsissia, Paz, Raga and Barthor in the living room. He flops into a chair and sinks down to slump there like a semi-melted shape.

"Dav is working on it." Dulsissia replies, absently fanning herself with a make-shift paper-fan. Her hair is tied up and her usually pale skin is flustered and shining with sweat. "Hang in there, baby."

Paz, having dropped wearing shirts two days ago, sits in the sofa and, despite being every bit as sweaty and uncomfortable as the rest of them, has a look of smug delight on his face as he studies Raga. "Tell him to take his time. The heat is not that bad."

Raga glances back at him from where she was leaning over to steal Barthor's glass of ice water and confirms Paz is indeed hypnotized by her skimpy shorts again. While she'd initially squeezed into them because she was desperate to get as much breeze on her skin as possible, the side-effect of having Paz walk into walls and tables inspired her to wear them again. Now she grins and lets her own gaze shamelessly trail over Paz' bare torso. "Yeah, it's definitely not bad." She declares.

Din clears his throat to break the tension and keeps his attention on Dulsissia. "Do you think he'll be able to fix it today?"

"I don't know, baby." Dulsissia lowers her fan and sends him a worried look. "You are drinking enough water, right? And no training in this heat, remember?"

Din nods. "Don't worry. I remember." He sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair. "I just want the kriffing air conditioning back on..."

"Din. Language." Dulsissia scolds half-heartedly, going back to fanning herself again.

"Why are you whining?" Paz asks, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Raga's legs while she pesters the semi-comatose Barthor. "We've been through worse stuff than this. What is-"

"Why is it so farkled warm in this kriffing house?!" Corin snarls as he stalks into the room. He gave up wearing a shirt even before Paz did and his torso is soaked with sweat. His eyes are slits of blue rage. "Isn't that bantha-shit of a air conditioning working yet? Why is it taking so crinking long?" He grabs the glass of ice water Raga had tried to steal and dumps it over his own head. Huffing, sending a spray of ice water through the air, Corin closes his eyes and lets out a loud groan of frustration before he stalks off again, unable to stand still, and disappears out with a flurry of increasingly crude curse words.

Dulsissia stares wide-eyed after her son. Her fan forgotten in her frozen hand.

Paz' eyebrows are up by his hairline. Barthor seems afraid to move.

Raga looks over at Din. "So... he doesn't like the heat, huh?"

Din gives a faint shake of his head and speaks with utmost sincerity: "He really doesn't."

Dulsissia clears her throat and gets up. "I'll go check on Dav. We need to get that air conditioning back on... Now."

[mygalfriday]

you heard it from those other boys but this time it’s real (River/12)

Prompt #4: Double Date

Technically, this might be her fault but as a self-proclaimed psychopath River hardly possesses a conscience that needs to own her every mistake. And she certainly has no intention of claiming responsibility for this one. She fully intends to blame Hydroflax.

Finally settled in their brand new flat, she and the Doctor had decided to have a bit of fun playing hosts for the evening. Acting as a normal married couple who throw dinner parties and play board games had seemed like a laugh. The problem, of course, was that they didn’t know anyone on Darillium to invite. It had only been a few weeks and they’d spent most of that time christening every available surface of the flat. Neither of them had been inclined to get dressed and meet their neighbors.

The only two people they know happen to share a single body. The Doctor had been adamantly opposed to having one of her former husbands as a dinner guest and River, relishing his jealous scowl, had relented quite quickly. So they had decided to invite Nardole round for dinner and proceeded to bicker over the menu and the wine until they actually felt like an ordinary couple with ordinary problems. Of course, they’d made up immediately – impossible to stay angry when you’re both grinning at each other like idiots.

Eventually, they’d decided River would make the appetizers, the Doctor would make the main course, and they’d make dessert together. The Doctor hadn’t even blushed when she’d made a filthy joke about it. He’d only looked at her with exasperated affection and kissed her quiet. A girl could get used to that sort of domesticity.

While technically the robot body Nardole now inhabits doesn’t need to eat, its system does have the ability to convert food into energy to help maintain the electrical charge. River had spent a good hour convincing the Doctor that cracking open their dinner guest to study this phenomenon would be in poor taste. When the day in question actually arrived, things went surprisingly well. River actually made her appetizers instead of popping out somewhere and stealing them; the Doctor didn’t explode the kitchen while making the beef bourguignon; and Nardole was an excellent first guest.

The problem appeared during the main course. One moment Nardole had been licking the gravy off his spoon and praising the buttery garlic of the mushrooms while the Doctor leered at her smugly, and the next he’d simply dropped his spoon and powered down, his head drooping against his metal shoulder.

River looks to the Doctor, frowning. “Should we be worried?”

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed and his fingers tapping idly against the table. “Don’t think so,” he says, eyeing Nardole like the exact opposite might be true. “Lots of people eat too much and need to nap.”

“Not midsentence. And he’s not people, darling,” she sighs. “He’s a robot.”

Before he can reply, Nardole’s head begins to disappear – sinking into the confines of his metal body. River can only watch in helpless fascination, like a pedestrian witnessing a car crash, as Ramone appears in his place. He yawns widely, as though he’d been interrupted mid-nap, and blinks as he takes stock of his surroundings. When he sees River, he breaks into that big grin that had endeared him to her the first time they met. “Hello you.”

River darts a glance at the Doctor, who looks too bewildered by this turn of events to even be properly annoyed about it. “Hello Ramone. Everything alright?”

“I think so.” He squints, as though taking stock of himself. “Nardole ate too much.”

She pointedly ignores the Doctor’s terribly unsubtle gloating. Gesturing to the spread before them, she asks, “Hungry?”

“I could eat.” He looks down at his plate, brows lifting. “Is this for me?”

Pasting on a smile, River nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Finally seeming to realize he’s about to have dinner with his wife and her ex-husband, the Doctor shifts uneasily in his chair. His right eye twitches.

“Oh, how nice.” Ramone leans forward, inhaling deeply. “Whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

“Beef bourguignon.” She bites back a smirk, glancing at her husband. “The Doctor made it.”

“Did you really?” Ramone shovels a generous bite into his mouth and groans, eyes falling shut. “It’s very good.”

The Doctor’s grip around his fork tightens and for a moment River wonders if she’s about to have the privilege of witnessing her two-thousand-year-old husband start a food fight. At last, he sighs through his nose and loosens his white-knuckled grip on the poor cutlery. “It’s River’s favorite,” he grumbles, “So I learned to make it.” His eyes narrow and he stares pointedly at Ramone as he adds, “Because I’m her husband.”

River rolls her eyes and reaches for the pinot noir.

Undeterred, the Doctor presses, “We’ve been married for centuries. In multiple universes. Did she tell you that?”

“Hmm? I think she mentioned it.” Too engrossed in his food, Ramone doesn’t appear to notice the Doctor’s annoyance despite his complete lack of subtlety. It’s part of the reason River had gotten so annoyed and erased his memory; he’s such a dear, dense thing. If only he weren’t so damn pretty.

Helping himself to a glass of wine Nardole hadn’t finished, Ramone turns his attention back to River. “I like the new flat,” he says, smiling at her. “How are you enjoying your stay so far?”

And thus begins the most awkward evening of her life. Considering the length of her life, tonight ranks pretty high on a fairly substantial list of terrible evenings. She makes polite conversation with her ex, telling him about the new furniture she and her husband just ordered from the next planet over and how offensively high the shipping cost had been. They discuss mutual friends and reminisce about previous adventures, all while the Doctor stews in silence, scowling at his plate. River keeps her hand on his thigh under the table, squeezing every now and then just to see him twitch.

After what seems like hours, dinner finally comes to an end. Ramone wipes his mouth on a napkin and pats his metal belly. “So, what’s for dessert?”

River opens her mouth, already smirking, but the Doctor cuts her off with a glare. “There is no dessert,” he says firmly. “At least not any you’ll be getting.”

“Spoilsport,” River murmurs, ignoring Ramone’s puzzled glance. She pushes aside what’s left of her wine and conjures up her most charming smile. “Actually, I think we’ll call it an early night, if you don’t mind. The Doctor has a headache.” She tips her head, nose wrinkling. “Or he’s about to, at least.”

“Erm. Yes.” The Doctor quirks an eyebrow at her, his leg shifting under her palm. “There’s definitely some throbbing.”

She nearly chokes, smothering her surprised laughter in a strangled cough that makes her eyes water. The Doctor grins shamelessly at her, looking triumphant and smug in a way she absolutely shouldn’t find sexy. She really does anyway.

“Right,” Ramone says, eyeing them strangely. After a moment, he seems to give a mental shrug before pushing back his chair. His metal body clicks and whirrs as he rises, suddenly towering over them both. “Thanks for dinner. It was lovely.”

River presses her lips together, still far too amused to manage speech.

The Doctor, damn him, looks cheerful for the first time all evening. “Our pleasure.”

Together, they walk Ramone to the door and see him off, waving in the doorway until he disappears down the corridor with clunky steps. The moment they shut the door behind him, the Doctor dissolves into laughter. Helpless but to join in, River tugs him in by the collar of his shirt and presses her giggling mouth to his cheek. “You jealous idiot,” she laughs. “He’s no one, you know. Just a bit of fun.”

He huffs. “We’re fun.”

“We are,” she promises, swaying into his chest. She tips back her head and meets his soft gaze. With a sigh still bubbling with laughter, she admits, “We’re… everything.”

The Doctor dips his head and kisses her – a bit rougher than normal, just possessive enough to make her shudder. Nipping at her lip as he pulls away, he nudges his nose against hers and whispers, “Dessert?”

River grins, slipping her arms around his neck. “I’ll clear the table.”

[forthehpfanboys]

Dance With Me

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Draco really wishes he asked you to the Yule Ball. He wishes his father wasn't such a prude. He wishes you were on his arm, not Potters.

Warnings: Swears, like usual, small homophobia??

Notes: Requested! Bisexual! Harry is the only Harry in this blog. Also, Harry is supportive and I shamelessly put some Blaise/Ron in this but it’s like the smallest mention possible. Anyway, enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Draco watched on with a glum expression and prayed to whatever wizard gods are up there that it wasn’t noticeable. He glanced down at his polished shoes before shifting weight across between his feet. He cleared his throat, and rolled his shoulders back, trying to shake off the jealousy he felt deep down. This was the very last place on the entire planet he wanted to be standing in. He did not want to have to stand here next to Pansy Parkinson, listening to her go on and on while his rival danced and laughed with his long term secret crush.

He really should’ve asked you. The thought kept spiraling in his head, causing him to white knuckle the glass in his hand. He really should’ve ignored his father and just asked you. His icy eyes watched Potter dunk you playfully- since when did that git learn to actually fucking dance? His eyebrows furrowed when he saw your laughing expression and Harry’s sly smirk into a similar grin. The blonde really wanted to gag at the sight.

“So then (L/n) tried to do this stupid spell and it only blew up in his face, literally. Stupid mudblood really shouldn’t have been excepted into this school.” Pansy went on, giggling at the story. “He really is pathetic, isn’t he, Draco?.. Draco?”

“Don’t call him that.” Draco grumbled. He wasn’t fond of his ‘date’ talking smack about the male he’d rather be spending time with. 

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you actually think he’s got talent or like.. Potential.” She was giggling again and the sound was almost more annoying than watching the pair dance and laugh.

“I don’t- Just- Oh for fucks sake, go get a drink or something.” Draco rolled his eyes, fixing his suit collar. He didn’t even watch his date strut away in her dark green cocktail dress. Instead, he turned from the sight and slammed his glass down on the table behind him. He resisted his urge to run his fingers through his perfectly combed hair.

“It isn’t too late, ya know.”

Draco didn’t have to look to know it was Zabini. The blonde sat down in his chair before grumbling back a response.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Draco really just didn’t want to be here. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you, clad in a suit that he desperately wanted to tear off you, dancing with The-Chosen-One. Merlin, he felt his heart ache.

“Draco.” A hand came to rest against his shoulder. “We know you took Parkinson just because your dad is a little traditional.” 

“A little?” Draco couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “My father is far from only a little traditional, Zabini, we both know this.”

“While it’s true, I think you should talk to him. The dance doesn’t end for a good few hours, mate. I’m sure he’d be down for at least one dance with you.” A silence fell over the friends for a few seconds before the blonde spoke up again.

“You don’t hate me? For liking a muggle born?” Draco clarified with clearing his throat.

“Draco.. For a Slytherin who gets O’s on almost all his exams, you sure can be dull sometimes. I’m your friend, like I have room to judge you.” 

“Oh, right, Weasley-”

“Anyway, have fun whooing him. Invite me to the wedding.” 

Draco watched his friend retreat into the crowd, choosing to ignore the blush burning into his cheeks before turning his attention back to the pair dancing. He watched you shed the top coat of your suit, sliding it onto a chair and rolling up your sleeves. The heat must be getting to you.

Draco knocked back the rest of his drink. Merlin, it was hot in here, or maybe it was just you. The blonde subconsciously licked his lips as he watched you go back to the dance floor. He just when a drink slid across the table and Pansy sat down next to him, effectively blocking his view of you.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sipping her own drink.

“Nothing.”

“Do you wanna dance, then?”

“Not particularly.” Draco didn’t bother hiding the venom from his words. He wanted you on his arm, you asking him to dance, not her. It was always you. You should be tired with how often you run through his head.

“Fine, I’m going to find Blaise.” the Slytherin female stood up, watching Draco’s face for hints of any emotion.

“He went off with his date, good luck.” He shrugged, simply turning back to his drink. With a groan, Pansy left once again, taking her drink with him. His blue eyes went back to you for the umpteenth time that night, desperation hidden behind the irises. 

The blonde could imagine the look on his father's face if he ever brought you around. He could practically hear the disapproval and the pure disgust in his voice, stating he no longer had a son when it shouldn’t matter.

His happiness should be what matters the most. He wasn’t happy with Pansy, he was happy with you. He didn’t want a pureblood witch ready to follow him like a lost puppy. He wanted the muggle-born wizard who was now slow dancing with Potter. His eyes followed Potter’s hands that seemed to be heading south far faster than they should be for a slow dance. That was what snapped the final straw. 

He set his glass down, adjusting his suit once more before making long strides over to you. Harry noticed him first, his face scrunching up in confusion, causing you to turn around and look at the blonde. The way you innocently titled your head should be considered a criminal offense.

“Malfoy.” Harry spoke up.

“Potter.” Draco spat out as his icy eyes trailed up and down his rival.

“(L/n)!” You shouted, throwing your hands in the air, trying to disperse the awkward tension. You knew Harry was holding back a giggle. “Are we good? Did I defuse the tension good enough?”

“Like a professional defusing a bomb!” Harry chuckled out, his hand going around your waist.

“Say, Potter.” Draco spoke up quickly, his eyes glued to the hand on your hip before moving swiftly to meet your eyes. “May I steal your dance partner?” Draco held his hand out to you, his other going behind his back as he bowed, like the gentlemen he was.

“If that’s what he wants.” Harry tried to hide his grin. He’d known how you felt about the blonde for a while so he was so down for this interaction to take place. After all, he only danced with you to get Draco’s attention. Once Zambini became a low key friend, he’s gotten to know the Silver Trio a lot better from a distance and about Draco’s little crush on you. The whole plan was just made Draco jealous; fair and simple.

“Hmm, I’m not sure.” You teased, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed along his monochromatic suit. He looked good. In fact, he looked down right sexy- Holy shit- He should wear white more often. 

“Dance with me, (Y/n). Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation would you?” Draco smirked, clearly joking as he pushed his hand closer to you.

“Oh, so polite and totally not self centered!” You placed your hand in his, doing a pathetic curtsy in your dress pants. You tried to ignore the primal urge to just hold the man's hand, maybe gaze under some stars with him. “Mom always did say it would be rude to say no to anyone who wishes to dance.”

Draco smiled and whisked you away. He led you into a spin before pulling you back into his chest, quickly taking the lead like his mother taught him too. One hand was resting gently against your waist while the other gripped your hand. 

“So.. Um.. What’s up?” You asked as the two of you began to sway to the music. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from the grin.

“Not very good with small talk are you?” Draco snickered out. He hated to admit it, but he really should’ve fucking asked you to dance sooner. Your body fit perfectly against his and he couldn't stop staring at your sparkling eyes.

“Well, you are quite intimidating.” You giggled out when he spun you around again. You couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across your face when he pulled you against him, but his chest was pressed against your back.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, love. I don’t bite.” His sultry voice whispered right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“I never said I was scared of you, Draco.” You craned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. I actually like to think you're not as tough or bad as you play out to be.” 

“Wha-” Draco blinked a few times before spinning you back around and tugging you roughly against him. “What do you know about me?” He couldn’t help how his grin morphed into a sneer or how his hands tightened their grip on your waist.

“Draco, come on. Everyone knows you got shit going on at home.” Your hands were running through his hair, ruining Pansy’s hard work, not that he cared. He loved feeling your hands run through his hair so much he didn’t notice himself sighing. “See? You’re just a misunderstood softy stuck between a rock and a hard place.” You giggled out. It was cut short when Draco was suddenly pushing you back, forcing you to walk backwards by the grip on your waist. He didn’t stop maneuvering you backwards until your back bumped into a wall, leaving you stuck between the male and a hard place. You stared into his icy eyes, your hands pressed against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m not a softie. I’m not a teddy bear! I’m a bloody Malfoy! I make my own bloody choices and I do what I want!” Draco pressed his chest against yours as he spoke. It was clear he was trying to intimidate you. His mood shifted a bit when your arms moved to wrap themselves around his neck.

“So kiss me.”

“What?!” His eyes got wide, his pale cheeks tinted a soft pink. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were already going.

“It isn’t exactly a secret you fancy me, Draco. You’ve been staring at me since the dance began.” You smiled at his shocked expression. “That and Blaise told me. So, if you truly do what you want, you’d kiss me and maybe take me back to your dorm room.”

Draco stood shocked, his inner battle event on his face. Go against his father, his own bloodline and everything he’s been taught just over some feelings? You were a mudblo- muggle born wizard for fucks sake. His parents, his father, would disown him for the wizard bit alone! 

But did his dad have to determine everything he did? Did he really have to follow this bullshit code that should’ve died ages ago? Did he really have to be a pawn in his father's stupidity? 

His eyes watched your tongue trail across your lips and he made his decision. Draco’s hands tightened their grip once again on your waist before he quite literally slammed his lips against yours. He pressed his body harder against yours, if it was possible when you kissed back and shuddered when your fingers threaded through his ruined hair.

You truly didn’t know how badly he wanted you. You didn’t know the inner turmoil the poor male had been fighting since the stupid ball was announced, but the kiss. The kiss helped Draco express his passion for you, his love. He would charge into battle for you, put up with Potter for you, hell, fight his father for you. He’d ignore the stares of shock from the crowd and the unamused expression of his forgotten date.

You got under his skin and stole his heart. You were worth more than the stars in the sky and he wouldn’t let anyone separate the two of you. That night, he made sure you knew how much you meant to him.

[binniedeactivated]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. || c.bg

─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞:  𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦. 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

a/n; everything is fictional! 

the night was young but more often than not it was filled with bustling chatter and soft violins stringing through the ballroom. alas, it was the celebration of Queen Choi’s 65th birthday and the parliament was gathering tonight on the sparkling marble floors of the choi residence. in their normal herd, the choi brothers were dappered up their white ruffle collared dress shirts and suit jackets in the midst of the crowd alongside their cousins, prince taehyun and prince kai. no matter what the occasion was, they were always dressed gorgeously.  each of their hair was parted and curled beautifully over top of their eyebrows. their suits were made of the highest quality and tailored to their body shapes. they wore the finest of jewelry plated with pure gold. being born into a royal family full of riches had it’s perks and they always shone brightly on the five. 

“good evening your highness. might I compliment you on how handsome you look tonight?”. she bowed graciously in front of choi beomgyu who was currently taking a sip of his white wine. he swallowed just before staring her in her hopeful eyes. “no you may not. what you can do though is give me and my blood some space to talk. carry on”. he says before waving her off. she frowns shortly and walks away, leaving the rest of the four chuckling in her trail. 

“damn. so much for being courted”. taehyun mumbles taking a sip of his wine as well. yeonjun playfully pushes his youngest brother’s shoulder. “you know you’re up next to get married. it’s only a matter of time before mother arranges it”. 

beomgyu shrugs, “I don’t want anyone mother has for me. nor do I want any of these women who court me either. all they’re looking for is get rich quick schemes anyways”. 

“then what are you going to do? if you don’t get married soon you will never hold a higher spot in parliament”. kai adds. 

“literally. while all of us, yeonjun hyung, taehyun, kai and me, are being crowned you’re still going to be prince beomgyu”. soobin laughs holding his glass up to the air, sipping the last of his beverage in the sea of the group’s laughter.

“with no type of power or authority”. taehyun adds making the four of them laugh even harder. beomgyu rolls his eyes. he could admit, maybe it was embarrassing that even the youngers Taehyun and Kai were getting married before him. but that was only because the boys knew who they wanted and courted them accordingly. and also because the boys married safely within royalty. 

but beomgyu knew who he wanted as well. only, he wasn’t allowed to marry her. for she was of royalty of course but she was of different blood. she was apart of the choi family’s biggest rival, King and Queen Hendrix. 

and of course right at the very thought of her, she arrived. see, even if the choi’s and hendrix’s were rivals no matter what-- all royal families were invited to all events and celebrations and were required to attend, almost being forced to make peace each time both families saw each other. 

“here they go with their bullshit. if they start anything this time it’s going to be a problem”. yeonjun grumbles watching the King and Queen walk in with cheshire cat smiles and folks bowing to them accordingly. it was only a matter of time before the both of them approached the boys and of course they were all required to bow. 

“nice to see that you all are aging well. perhaps when you’re crowned you’ll assist our Princes with any decision making in the kingdom”. Queen hendrix spoke holding her head high and her lips tight. She always had this sweet tone in her voice laced with demise. heuning kai nods. “of course your highness. we’ll all make a wonderful royal family”. she gave them another smug glance and made a hmph noise just before walking off. as soon as she was out of sight yeonjun sucks his teeth. 

“i swear you’re such a kiss up heuning”. 

“what am I supposed to do? wave her off like beomgyu hyung does his courts? no thank you I don’t want to get killed”. 

they were arguing but choi beomgyu was eyeing her. yes, princess aaliyah. she happened to be wearing a brown sparkly mermaid tale gown. her hair was done up in a high curly ponytail with some curly strands hanging down in front of her face and diamond earrings dangling at her neck. her almond shaped eyes immediately met beomgyu’s and a smirk flickered at the corner of her thick umber glossed lips. he smirks back and let’s his eyes wander her body. 

pft. it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done it before. 

she adjusts her jewelry before strutting her way over. 

“and here comes bitchy princess”. tyun says, chewing on the leftover ice in his glass. soobin rolls his eyes. “why is she coming over here?”. 

“to talk about how her brothers are going to make better kings than us. what the hell else is new”. yeonjun adds. 

“good evening”. she bows. “I see you gentlemen aren’t socializing much. it’s hard to be crowned when you barely know anything about your people”. 

“you just arrived your highness. may I ask, how would you know what we’ve been doing?”. beomgyu snarls. 

“i assume it isn’t anything different from what you all do at any other occasion”.  

“and why is it any of your concern?”. beomgyu sneers again. the boys were silently laughing on the inside. beomgyu was the only one who was never afraid of talking to princess aaliyah the way she deserved without consequences. it was mainly why they always let him do the talking whenever she came around. 

she licks her upper set of teeth and smirked at his attitude. it was sexy. “you’re soon to be crowned with my brothers it’s always of my concern”. 

“well I think there’s some time until then isn’t there? run along your highness”. 

she sucks her teeth and he steals short glances at her boobs almost spilling out her dress. “you’re right. I have better things to do other than approach a bunch of undeserving halfwits. if you’ll excuse me”. she replies arrogantly before strutting away, beomgyu’s eyes following her petite frame until she was almost out of sight. 

“did you see how defeated she looked? ah! that shit was priceless”. yeonjun laughs amongst the boys once she was finally away. “i swear hyung I don’t know how you aren’t dead already. if that was any of us we’d be gone by the time we take our next breath”. taehyun mentions. beomgyu laughs with them. “I don’t know either. I have to use the bathroom though. I’ll be right back”. he assures. 

“fuckk mmh”. she whimpers trying to keep her volume at a minimum. they knew that if anyone were to find out about their affairs they’d be getting exiled. but that didn’t keep choi beomgyu’s head from under aaliyah’s dress. as soon as they bustled into the wash room he sat her on top of the washing machine and proceeded to eat her shamelessly. 

he wraps his tongue around her clit and sucks her wet folds generously, holding her legs open with his hands. he glares up at her with the most innocent eyes while he was doing so ripping her heart into shreds. he wrangles his tongue along each and every part of her making her back arch in absolute bliss. she felt herself. pound at the feeling of his slimy tongue sucking on her sensitive nub. 

“fuck! gyu you’re such a good boy for me”. she moans in a whisper running her hands through his hair. she tongue kisses her clit attentively. “you taste so fucking good”. he praised just before sticking his tongue inside of her. he presses his thumb against her swollen nub while tongue fucking her sensitive core. she pants with beads of sweat glissading down her chest. her hips stuttered against his lips. 

and beomgyu liked it. he loved when he was the one pleasuring her. he loved seeing her pretty face contorted in pleasure. he loved how erotic she sounded when she moaned. he loved how sometimes she’d get so wet for him he could see it through her pantties. he loved having her much needed bliss at his disposal. and he didn’t care what he had to do to get his fix. 

he always ate her slow and steady, taking his time but spending quality time in the places she loved, licking and sucking like his life depended on it. he dug into her thighs with his hands and dragged his tongue up and down her folds. he’d bob his head obediently sucking on her and moaning at her taste. she clutches his hair shaking at his speed. he ate painfully slow but it felt better that way. she loved when he took his precious time eating her as if it was his art. 

 but most importantly she enjoyed the risk of it all. him eating her when she knew it was forbidden. but she couldn’t get enough of beomgyu’s tongue and his lips. the way he fucked her hard and rough and looked at her like she was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

“oh god I’m going to c-cum”. she whines and beomgyu did nothing but ignore her cries and continue to let his tongue ruin her in every possible way. each time he slips his tongue out it was left with more precum than it went in with and he loved it all too much. he cradles her hips to his face to deepen the thrusts and she shakes at the overbearing feeling. “fuckk you’re so good with your mouth”. she breathes with her eyes rolling to the back of her head. she steadily grinds her hips down on his tongue. 

“yes fuck my mouth please”. he begs. 

“promise me you’ll only eat me like this choi beomgyu”. she pants desperately trying to chase the orgasm she needed. 

he squeezes her thighs feeling himself get hard at the sound of her needy noises and squirming.

“I promise i’ll always eat your pussy like this”

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - ix (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The voyage that promised you safety had been a lie.

Warnings: TRIGGERING CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER, A lot happens in this chapter! Major (and minor) CHARACTER DEATH, This chapter is hella heavy (heavier than I meant it to be), injury to reader, MISCARRIAGE, blood, SEXUAL ASSAULT, descriptions of wounds, A LOT OF BLOOD, 

Word Count: 3.3k

In case it wasn’t clear yet...

TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The silence of the night was interrupted by the loud clattering of the guards’ boots against the tiled floors. Doors were being opened and slammed shut. Servants and nobles woke up startled when the armored men burst through their chamber doors, searching for one woman… You.

“Find her!” The king’s voice boomed throughout the castle. No one could tell if his tone was full of anger or concern. The two seemed to blend into one loud growl that barked orders at everyone in sight. Perhaps… it was neither emotion… Perhaps it was simply desperation. “Find her now!”

But you were long gone by the time Lord Barnes had relayed Natasha’s confession.

As soon as the sun set and the moon rose high into the sky, you and Wanda made your escape. Not wanting to be seen, nor heard, you abandoned your shoes. Your bare feet were silent against the cold floors as you both ran out of the castle and towards the docks.

You were surprised to see that Brock was nowhere to be found. In his place, stood the older Lord Pierce, who introduced you to the sailor who would escort you to Wakanda. The sailor was a man who only went by the name “Stern”. He was a pudgy older man who smoked a strange pipe that emitted a woodsy, lemongrass-like smell.

You didn’t like the way he eyed you and Wanda. His eyes shamelessly looked over your friend’s chest which made her shrink behind you. He had wandering hands that were bold as he pulled you into a tight hug, feeling up your body. He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek.

Pierce explained that Brock’s estate suddenly needed his attention and that the lord rushed over during the day to handle the matter, but he wished you a safe voyage. For some reason, you didn’t like the way “safe” sounded in Pierce’s mouth. It almost felt as if it were insincere – like the words of a politician.

Minutes had passed and Natasha was nowhere to be found. Although you wanted to wait, both Stern and Pierce advised that the longer you wait, the slimmer your chances at escape became. He promised he would protect her from the king’s wrath as best as he could, even offering to steal her away to York. Reluctantly, you and Wanda agreed that it was best to leave… Besides, Natasha was being courted by James Barnes, one of the king’s oldest friends. Her safety was nearly guaranteed by that fact alone.

So, Pierce ushered you and your friend onto the boat. You thanked him and asked him to thank Brock for you just before the boat set sail.

You watched as the towers of Ameera, Brooken’s castle, faded into the distance as the boat brought you closer and closer to safety – or, what you thought was safety.

Hours into the voyage, you were dry heaving over the side of the boat with Wanda pulling your hair away from your face. You weren’t sure whether to attribute the nausea to your pregnancy, or the violent sways of the boat, or your minor head injury from being pushed down the stairs. Whatever was causing this bout of sickness, it made the trip twice as uncomfortable.

Eventually, you had collapsed due to the exhaustion. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as she pet your locks, humming a soft lullaby to comfort the both of you. The boat would jolt side to side and Stern would let out a stream of curses. Although it seemed as if the strange man couldn’t expertly maneuver a boat, he did swear like a sailor.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Tell me!” Steven ordered. His hand gripped his sword tightly as he glared at the red-headed woman who cowered in her lover’s arms. “Tell me why she left. I don’t want to hear James’s words. I want to hear it from you.”

“She was convinced she couldn’t stay here.” Natasha said, her voice shaking as she trembled. “You had hurt her – multiple times… and your people turned on her the moment it seemed appropriate for them to. She was afraid and she was offered help, a promise of safety in Wakanda. She thought she had to take it. She felt as if she was in danger.”

“By whom?” Natasha looked up at Lord Barnes, who gave her an encouraging nod. The king’s tone was unamused. He was worried for you. “Lady Romanova, who offered her help.”

She gulped. “Lord Pierce and Lord Rumlow.” She glanced at the king’s hands which gripped the hilt of his blade so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. “I tell you this because I fear they don’t have good intentions with the queen. She’s vulnerable, impressionable. I think they’re feeding upon her own fears.” Steven’s grip loosened as he raised his eyebrows up at her, questioningly, prompting her to continue. “And there’s another thing… She’s pregnant, your grace, with your child.”

“What?” James muttered in disbelief. She hadn’t told him this beforehand.

Steven’s face dropped entirely. His worry tripling. You had fallen from the stairs, pushed by one of the ladies of his court, who he stripped of all her titles as punishment. Now, you were missing. Your disappearance aided by two men he knew were conspiring against him. You may have thought you were in danger in Brooken, but you had no idea how much danger you put yourself in by putting your faith in these two men.

“Take one of our fastest ships and sale towards Wakanda. It’s only been hours. They couldn’t be far.” Steven ordered Lord Wilson. He was a loyal friend and was an expert at sailing. He trusted no one more. “As for the rest of you, find me Pierce and Rumlow. Now!”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

(TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD)

You woke up to an earsplitting shriek. Your body was thrown haphazardly onto the wooden deck of the boat. Your head was heavy and dizzy, vision a bit unfocused, but you could make out two bodies feet away from you. When your vision began to clear, you realized it was Stern on top of Wanda, who was screaming your name and pleading for the man to get off.

“Get off of her!” You screamed, scrambling to your feet and wobbling over. The boat rocked beneath you. You pushed him, but you were too weak and tired – exhausted and injured from your fall the day before.

He reached out a hand and shoved your stomach, hard. You fell to the ground with a loud thud. You groaned in pain. Wanda screams were muted when his hands wrapped around her throat. She clawed at his wrists, desperately trying to break free.

With blurry vision, you searched the boat. Your head turned side to side, trying to find anything. The sunlight was reflected by a sharp blade behind the man’s body. You scrambled to pick up the dagger which already had blood dripping from it.

You screamed as you plunged the dagger into the man’s back several times as deep as it could go. The man backed away from Wanda, standing to his feet. She scrambled away with what energy she had left.

“You little bitch.” He moaned. His hand reached over to cut that you left. He winced as he withdrew and saw the blood. Stern stomped over to you, the boat rocking with his steps. You screamed as he twisted your wrist, the blade dropping from your grip, clattering onto the wooden floor. Stern was in your face, the stench from the pipe filled your senses, suffocating you. “I should’ve raped you first.”

He pushed you onto the ground again and threw himself over you. His hand grabbing at your skirts. You screamed and tried to push him off. Over the loud crashing waves, you heard fabric ripping. You sobbed and braced yourself, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut.

But nothing happened.

You heard a choking sound as warm liquid spilled over your face, some of it finding its way past your lips. A coppery taste filled your mouth. It reminded you of when you’d bite your lip or your cheek too harshly and it would bleed.

You opened your eyes to see Stern sporting a long, deep gash that split his throat open. The cut went from ear to ear. He scrambled to his feet, spluttering blood everywhere. Behind him stood a heaving Wanda, her hand covered in the same liquid that painted your face – the dark crimson of blood.

Her skirts were ripped and exposed her legs that had blood dripping down. She had her own pool of blood that collected in the fabric of her dress. She sported her own gash on her stomach. She fell to the ground as the boat rocked one way as Stern knocked himself overboard.

You found what little energy you had to crawl over to your friend who was bleeding out from her wounds. You cradled her head onto your lap, pushing her hair away from her face. She was pale – paler than she normally was – as she stared up at you.

“Wanda…” Your voice cracked. “Stay with me…”

“This… this was a… this was a mistake.” She muttered. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, giving you a squeeze. The blood on her hands left a print over your scarred skin. Her voice was weak as her strength began to wane.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You cried.

She gave you a soft smile and reached up to wipe your tears. Wanda took a deep breath and shook her head. “We shouldn’t have left…”

“I know… I’m sorry…”

“No, no…” Wanda smiled, gently. “Listen… The king loves you… Whether you want … to believe that or not. He does…” Her breaths were ragged, struggling. “I see it in the way he looks at you.” You saw the bruises that Stern’s fingers left on her throat. “He loves you, (Y/N)… Allow him to…” The muscles on her face began to droop as her arm slumped to her side. Her eyes glazed over as they stared lifelessly up at you.

You let out a scream.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun had set, and you were left shivering in the cool breeze of the ocean. You covered Wanda’s body with a tarp you found. You washed your face with the salty water as best as you could, scrubbing the scum’s blood off of your skin until your skin felt raw.

You weren’t sure how to sail, so you let the boat rock aimlessly.

Sanctuary in Wakanda must’ve been a lie. Pierce had lied. Brock had lied to you. They played you. Was this their plan all along? To rape you and your ladies just before killing you all in the middle of the sea?

You stared into the depths of the water. The hue of the water reminded you of Steven’s eyes. A deep ocean blue with specks of green. You missed his eyes. The warmth they gave when he smiled. The way they sparkled when he spoke to you. You missed his voice and his touches. His lips. You missed him.

Monster or not, you love him.

Suddenly, the dull pain in your stomach made itself prominent as your adrenalin ceased. It was sharp and striking, knocking the wind from your lungs. Your hand flew to the pained area and you winced. Your eyes widened with fear. “No…” You begged to whatever god was listening. “No, please… no.”

You tired to stand… Perhaps you could walk off the pain, but it raked through your body and made you collapse once more. Fresh tears began to roll down your eyes as you felt a warm liquid drip down your legs. You didn’t need to see it to know that it was blood.

“Over here, my lord!” Someone called out. There was a light in the distance. Another boat speeding towards yours. You didn’t recognize the voice, but you recognized the sail. The crest of House Rogers proudly displayed along with Brooken’s flag.

“Queen (Y/N)?” Another voice called out. A figure emerged as the nose of their boat gently bumped against yours. Samuel Wilson. His eyes were wide as he tried to train them to look into the night. “What’s happened?”

It was dim and the only light the night provided was the moon and the lanterns of his own boat, but with his many years on several battlefields, he could recognize the stains of blood anywhere. Your boat was covered in it. The tarp that harbored your friend’s body underneath was stained with it. Your ripped dress, too.

You didn’t need to answer. He knew.

Sam helped you onto their boat. He shook off his coat to wrap around your shivering body. You asked for him to retrieve Wanda as well, wanting to give her a proper burial. The ride back to Brooken was silent. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved to be going back or to be petrified. Steven must be so angry with you.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked. He genuinely cared. He really did.

You shook your head as another bout of sobs erupted through you. You held your head in your hands and wailed into the night with no care of whether the men on the boat judged you or not. You had lost one of your best friends and your baby all in the span of a day.

You were broken.

Sam wrapped his arms around you, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he paid it no mind. He glanced down at your legs, seeing the red spirals of blood. His heart sank to his stomach as he assumed the worst.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Your grace! Your grace!” A servant boy ran through the king’s chambers. The king laid wide awake on his lonely bed, staring up at the canopy over him.

“What is it?” He asked, sitting up. The boy was sputtering words, no coherent sentence forming. “Out with it, boy!”

“Lord Wilson is back … There’s a body in a tarp and another woman asleep. I didn’t see who the woman was.”

Steven’s heart dropped. His anxiety peaking.

You couldn’t be dead… The thought alone broke his heart.

He rushed out of his room, almost knocking the boy to the floor. It was as if he were experiencing déjà vu as he ran through the corridors towards the infirmary. It was the only place they would put a body.

He caught a glimpse of Natasha’s red hair disappearing as the doors shut behind her. Sam had walked out.

Sam grabbed his arm and shook his head. He heard Natasha scream, “No!”, followed by a loud sob.

“Sam – “Steven tried to push past his friend, but the lord’s grip was like iron.

“You should know…” Sam muttered, his voice so low only the king could hear. “Lady Wanda had been … assaulted… She was stabbed and she died from her wounds.” Steven felt guilty for feeling relief, but the body in the tarp had not been his wife. Who could blame him for being relieved? “Steve …”

“What happened?” Steven snapped. “Why will you not let me in?”

“I’m not sure what happened on that boat.” Sam whispered. “But it was covered in blood. Your wife’s dress was torn. I saw her legs with blood dripping down them.” Steven’s blood began to boil – like his friend, assuming the worst.

“Who was on that boat? WHO DID THIS?”

“She didn’t say. She was exhausted when we found her – cried herself to sleep, poor bird.” Sam explained, shaking his head. “I cannot be certain if a similar assault happened to your wife, Steven, but…”

The doors creaked open. Natasha’s red hair popped out. Her eyes red and puffy, face wet with tears. “The queen is awake… If you would like to speak with her, your grace?”

“I do.” Steven nodded. Sam bowed before leaving his king as did Natasha.

You looked tired. Dark circles rimmed around your eyes. One of your wrists was wrapped in a bandage. “My love…” Steve said so carefully as if he were afraid his voice alone would shatter you. You were staring up into the ceiling, tears running down the sides of your face. “My love…” He repeated as he slowly walked over to your side.

“She’s dead…” You whimpered. “She died because … I wanted to run.”

“I know, my love… I’m sorry.” Steven didn’t know what else to say. “What happened?”

A broken sob escaped your lips as you brought your uninjured arm over your eyes and cried into it. Steven rushed over and made you sit up, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You allowed him to hold you as you cried into him, trembling with each sob. You missed how his warmth engulfed you. It gave you a sense of security – of home.

He shushed you, running his fingers through your messy hair. “It’s alright… You’re alright now… You’re home. You’re safe with me.”

“Am I?” You asked, choked with a sob. “Am I truly safe here in Brooken?”

“I will strike down any threat towards you. I swear to you on my life.” Steven said.

“I was pregnant.” Steven’s heart dropped. Was. “Perhaps it was the stress or… or the struggle when S-Stern was on top of me.”

“Did … Did he … ?” Steven couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

“No.” You shook your head, reading his mind. “Wanda saved me just before she bled out.”

“Stern?”

“A sailor Pierce hired to take bring us to Wakanda… I should’ve trusted my instinct.” You scolded yourself. You blamed yourself. How could you not? If only you had listened to your suspicions, your instincts before… Maybe Wanda would’ve been alive… Maybe your baby would’ve survived. “I lost the baby.” You cried into Steve’s chest.

“It’s okay.” Steven said, rubbing your back, soothingly.

“It’s not!” You screamed.

“I am thankful you are alive. We have a lifetime to bring children into this world. My concern is for you, (Y/N).” Steven pulled you from his chest, his hands cupped your face as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Do we? Do we have a lifetime? Or will you grow tired of me like Margaret or Sharon because I cannot give you an heir?”

“What?” His face scrunched up with confusion. What did his past wives have to do with you providing him with an heir?

“You killed Margaret… stabbed her in the heart after growing tired of rejections for she did not want a child… You beheaded Sharon in front of her admirers because you were jealous others preferred her – “

“Where did you learn this?” Steven interrupted.  

“Do you deny it? Do you deny that you killed your past wives?”

“No.” You tried to push him away, slamming your hands into his chest and screaming for him to leave. “Stop!” He shouted. “Stop it, (Y/N)! Stop!” He grabbed your wrists gently, cupping them into one large hand. He was cautious with your injured wrist, not applying too much pressure for it to hurt. Steven didn’t miss the way your eyes glinted with fear. “Who told you this?”

“Pierce and Rumlow.”

“They’ve lied to you.”

“But you just admitted you murdered them – “

“I did… for good reason.” Steven sighed. “We’ve been played. They’ve been turning you against me feeding you half truths and half lies… I did kill my wives, yes. Because they were working to overthrow me… House Carter was working with Thanos.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed. You were dizzy. It must’ve been the stress from the horrific events that you experienced. You felt betrayed, confused, conflicted.

“It’s time I tell you the truth.”