#I was planning for her to be nice.. but now nice and sassy

[ask-mizumi]

...Not trying to be mean but cars is just your interests... If anything learning your left and rights are probably way more important

who do you think is the dumbest person in the group?

Judging by what Scotty has told me.. probably @ask-deisel and Snowboy, that's their names right?

Africs is a continent, common sense, we learned about this. Australia is both a country and a continent, and goddamn do you guys know your north, south, west, east?

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Come And See Me

Summary: “sexually reserved men are THE best. Well behaved, won’t steal a kiss, won’t touch you inappropriately but boy if you give them consent? FINISHED…”

Terry Richmond isn’t the type of man Summer is used to. He’s the strong, silent type. A lot of discipline and control. She’s used to men falling to their knees in an instant. Hardly any dirty talk. But it does feel good to get to know someone on a deeper level for a change. He promises he’d come see her, but Summer didn’t take his word for it. That was, until he walked into that strip club one evening to surprise her with…

“Flowers?”

Summer was in the middle of a routine that earned her bandz at an unimaginable level. She climbed that pole, showed off her acrobatic skills, flexed that body and popped that ass so good she had ‘em lost for words. Speechless.

Terry Richmond walked in with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in khakis, a Curaçao soccer shirt, and white Air Forces. His hair was styled in a tapered cut with a curly fro. In his large, veiny hand, Terry gripped her red roses tightly, walking through until he made it to a section he’d reserved directly in front of the stage. He wanted an up close and personal view of Summer. He didn’t plan to take his aurora gray eyes off of her.

His captivating eyes created a path of seduction across her glistening skin that glittered beneath the strobe lights. Drink in his other hand, he took small sips, licking his lips nice and slow. Terry held the faintest smirk on his lips, body composed, but his heart was racing. His print left little to the imagination. Low grunts fell on deaf ears. Summer hit a split and made her hefty cheeks bounce. That body on her deserved big dick. It was built for big dick. Terry couldn’t wait. It’s been too long. Suddenly, as if she could sense him, Summer glanced over her shoulder and that’s when she realized Terry had shown up.

For a second, she’d forgotten where she was. His presence stunned her. Summer turned her body on the floor of the stage, money sticking to her tacky skin. Their eyes locked on for a while. Oooh, she was speechless. Summer started grinding her crotch towards him, rolling her hips and biting her lip. Terry’s piercing gaze was fixated on her face the entire time. Not once did he look down. It was so intense, her clit pulsated.

Drankin’ and Smokin’ came on and Summer lifted her shapely body into a squat, slowly and teasingly removing her bikini top. At this point, she was putting on a show for Terry and Terry only. Her Marine. She’d had his name saved under Mr. Marine in her phone. The hot pink top fell to the stage, bountiful titties with pierced nipples saluted. Terry dropped his beautiful eyes down to stare at her round, fat titties.

We drink up and we smoke, but she always do the most

It kinda turns me on the way she lickin' on my stones

My chains on antifreeze, it look like I made a clone

Wanna see you get more sassy, if it bring out better emotions

She called me her God, the way I floated in her ocean…

Summer needed him. So bad. That fine ass man. Seeing him in person…seeing the man behind that deep baritone. She rushed off that stage in an instant as soon as the music faded out. Breathing uneven, she walked off in her seven-inch pleasers, looking back at Terry, mind replaying all their conversations late at night…

(one of their many phone conversations)

“Hey baby…I wish you could see what I have on right now…You so sexy, imagine how…Intense it would be…To hold me right now…Our song's playin’…”

Body wrapped in her faux fur, black blanket, head resting against her black satin pillows, Summer held her cellphone to her ear with one hand, the other caressing her tawny skin. Terry made a sound that vibrated her core.

“Summer rain…when I listen to that, you know I think about you, right? Mmm…I bet you look so good in my T-shirt.”

“You’re so far, and I’m all alone in my bed…”

Summer was wearing an old, baggy T-shirt; Terry’s Marine Corps T-shirt. The fabric of it against her body with his voice in her ear gave her butterflies.

I can still hear your baritone

In my ear telling me you'll take it slow

And I was in the mirror playing wrong

Like you were here, I couldn't turn me on

So I fell asleep with the music on

Woke up again hearing the same old song, playing…

Summer paced her bedroom, stopping in front of her window, gazing out into the rainy evening, pressed to the glass, and laughing at Terry and his corny jokes. Her brown eyes followed the path of the raindrops, the sudden recollection of her own essence dripping. All he did was make her laugh, spew facts about things she’d never heard of, and say over and over again how beautiful she is. He didn’t judge her. She felt safe with Terry and she hadn’t even met him in person yet. Thoughts of how gentle and kind and thoughtful he is makes her play in her pussy every night.

“Patience, baby…When I get to you, you’re all mine…”

She shut her lids and pictured him, standing at his towering height, bending over to kiss along her neck and wrap those big arms around her waist. Now, her body is shaking to the fantasies.

“Don’t take it easy on me, Terry. I need you here…”

Summer turned, pressing her back against the window, bringing the collar of his T-shirt to her nose and taking a whiff. Mmmm…it smelled just like his cologne. Vanilla and Sandalwood.

“You’ll be begging me to take it easy on you, baby…”

——

“Summer.”

Terry stood up and approached her. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress with her belongings. Her long, jet-black, silk pressed hair was pinned up with a claw clip. Summer gave Terry a bashful smile. She couldn’t contain the butterflies in her belly. Terry handed her the roses.

“Thank you,” Summer smelled them, “they’re beautiful…I can’t believe it’s really you…”

She knew Terry was tall, but DAMN. She had to crane her neck just to look up at him. And his eyes…Summer found herself getting lost in them.

“You’re so much more beautiful in person. That performance…damn…”

Summer tucked her chin, unable to contain her blushing. Terry startled Summer when he lifted her chin for her to look at him. Her breath hitched.

“Up here…”

“Okay…”

“You did amazing up there. I’m glad I got to see it in person…” Terry whispered with a low, resonant voice.

“Thank you, Terry. Me too.”

“Should we get outta here? I’m kinda anxious right now to have you all to myself…”

Summer chuckled softly, body vibrating with lust. Terry wouldn’t stop admiring her. It was so intense, Summer shyly smiled and dropped her head. What was it about this man that had her acting all giddy and nervous?

“C’mon,” Terry held his hand out for Summer to grasp.

Thighs clenching, Summer accepted Terry’s hand and when she placed her hand in his, Summer almost whimpered. His entire hand swallowed hers. Warm and strong. Fuck. Summer allowed Terry to guide her out of the strip club. When they’d finally made it to the door, Terry placed his hand on the small of her back, holding the door opened for her.

“Did you drive here?” Terry questioned.

“I did,” Summer pointed to her blue lexus, “This is me.”

“I’ll follow you out if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay!” Summer responded excitedly.

Terry laughed before opening her door for her when she unlocked it. He helped Summer inside and then he took her things to put them in the back seat. Terry stood at the opening of her driver’s side door, looking down at her with a smirk and soft eyes.

“I’ll be right behind you, baby girl.”

“Okay, Terry…”

She watched as he leaned into her car, her body tensing up. Terry grabbed her hand and pecked it gently to tease, then came that deep chuckle she loved so much. It took her a moment to gather herself. It was the faintest of kisses but the feel of his generous lips against flesh sent sparks throughout her body. The hairs on her arms stood up and her pussy did that pitter-patter thing.

“Drive safe.”

He shut her door and flashed her a quick smile before jogging over to his truck—an all black GMC Sierra 2500HD Denali. Summer started the ignition, licking her lips to . Cocoa butter. She pulled out of the parking lot and checked to see if Terry was following her. When the coast was clear, she drove off with shaky hands and a flutter in her belly.

——

Summer stayed in a nice cul-de-sac home with a two car garage. She’d made enough money as an exotic dancer to purchase a home and move out of her apartment. She hopped out of her car and Terry pulled in closer as soon as she shut the garage. He quickly exited his car and grabbed her duffel bag so she could open the door.

Terry was finally going to see her home. After talking for months and wondering if he would ever come to see her, she didn’t have to doubt him anymore. Summer opened the front door and turned on the lights. The home had a futuristic feel to it that Summer loved. Terry took off his shoes and socks so he wouldn’t ruin her good carpet. While Summer got settled, he did some exploring of the first level.

Biomorphic curves, gravity-defying elements, sleek materials and bold angles. It looked like something dreamed up by Hollywood. Even the staircase leading up to her room with its modern glass rails completed the design. Summer returned with her flowers, giving Terry a megawatt smile filled with dimples and glossy lips. He followed her into her kitchen and watched her place her roses in a vase.

“This is nice, baby,” Terry took in his scenery of sleek stainless steel and marble, “So, this where you cook up them smothered pork chops, collard greens, and red beans and rice, huh?”

Summer giggles, “You know it. This is my favorite place to be. Would you like some wine?”

“I’ll take some, thank you,” Terry placed his arms behind his back as he stood near the kitchen island.

Summer handed him a glass and Terry accepted it with a slight tilt of his head and a penetrating gaze. They toasted each other before taking a sip of the white wine. The silence was palpable. They were both so thrilled to be in each other’s presence that words were lost on their tongues. Terry broke the silence with a nervous chuckle. He gently placed his now empty glass on the kitchen island before walking with slow, purposeful strides to reach Summer on the other side.

Summer had a firm grip on her wine glass, brown eyes ascending his tall frame to reach his gorgeous face. The pictures of him told her that Terry is a rare sight. A man this handsome is hard to come by. To view him in person; skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath, eye-to-eye, Summer had never seen a man so beautiful. Terry reached out to remove the glass from her hand and he sat it down on the counter top.

“Miss. Summer. I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this moment…and I know that I’ve made promises to come see you…that haven’t been fulfilled…and I’m sure you’ve had your doubts…”

“I have, I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. But you’re here now,” Summer exhaled slowly, “I don’t have to fantasize about what it would be like to have you next to me in my bed anymore…”

When you're not here

(I sleep in your t-shirt)

I wish you were here

(To take off your t-shirt)

After we make love

(I sleep in your t-shirt)

Wake up in your t-shirt

I smell the scent of your cologne…

“I don’t have to wish anymore,” Summer blinked up at Terry as she reached out her hand to stroke his arm that’s two sizes bigger than hers and covered in veins, “Or wonder if we could be something…”

“Hey,” Terry drew in closer his voice lowering a register, “We are something, baby. I need to get that doubt out your head…may I?”

Terry opened his arms and Summer gave her consent with a nod of her head before his arms hugged her tight. Summer pressed her cheek centimeters below his chest. He’s so big and warm. Body beneath his T-shirt unyielding. Terry’s hands began to explore. One hand threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp through her silky, thick tresses, the other glided up and down her back soothingly. Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged like this by a man if not ever.

“I wanna explain what held me up a while…I had some legal issues in Shelby Springs…my cousin got mixed up in some mess and I went to bail him out but…he died.”

“The cousin you told me about? Are you serious?”

Summer rested her chin against Terry’s chest as she looked up at him with saddened eyes. He looked back at her, so much emotion swirling in those blue-gray orbs with flecks of gold and brown, as if they are forever changing.

“Yeah,” Terry’s shoulders slumped, “It’s a lot…still gotta clear my name…lawyer up…I’m sorry I’m dumping all this shit on you right now—”

“Don’t be, Terry, don’t be,” Summer caressed Terry’s cheek, “That’s a lot. I’m so sorry…I can’t imagine…”

Summer squeezed Terry and he reciprocated. She felt her body being lifted from the floor and her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m so sorry about your cousin.” Summer said.

“Thank you, ‘ppreciate that…you’re so precious…”

Summer smiled fondly at Terry, “You’re such a good man, Terry Richmond.”

He loved that she said that. It made him smile handsomely down at her. She wanted to continue putting a smile on his face.

“You’re my safe space, Summer…”

She shut her eyes to avoid the onslaught of tears. It’s only been months that they’ve been talking. She’s his safe space?

“Terry…”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes—”

Terry hooked his hands beneath Summer’s ass and hiked her up so her thighs could circle his cut waistline. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other secured her waist snugly against him.

Summer felt her heart race. The air was thick with the creamy, warm, and earthy scent of his cologne, and the distant sound of her heartbeat faded into the background. A mix of security and excitement reflected in their depths.

With a tentative smile, Terry brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. The hand against her waist gave a gentle squeeze that spoke volumes. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling.

When their lips finally met, it was soft and hesitant at first, testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection and the thrill of a moment long awaited. Their tongues danced a slippery recital, lip’s cushiony, teeth grazing.

He’d ached to taste her. To taste a woman after so long. Summer’s daydreaming didn’t prepare her for the reality in front of her. Terry’s long legs began to guide them into Summer’s living room and towards her couch. He pulled away so that he could place her on her back. Summer’s dress had ridden up her shapely thighs revealing smooth, tawny skin. Terry knelt one leg between her thighs before lowering over her. Summer lifted to kiss him again, but Terry stopped her with a single finger to her lips.

“…It’s been way too long for me, baby girl. Seeing you dance tonight…doing your thing up there…it took a lot of work not to walk up on that stage and put this dick in you.”

Summer’s breath hitched.

“I’ve painted a picture in my mind many times of what that body looked like…” Terry’s eyes dropped down to the tops of Summer’s breasts, “I don’t think I ever told you I’m a breast man…and you got a pair that I just wanna…”

He pressed his face into her neck and inhaled. Summer drew her bottom lip into her mouth to control the incessant trembling. He’d never talked this dirty to her.

“…I just wanna suck and lick and nibble all over these titties…”

She could feel her nipples hardening from his words alone. Hearing it in person and so close to her ears had a greater effect. Summer was squirming. Her pussy leaked so much that it became unbearable to even wear panties around him. She’d have to walk around with an exposed pussy to cool off.

“I can suck these titties all night…sleep with a titty in my mouth…play with your nipples until you’re squirming…flick your nipples with my tongue…you got some thick nipples too, baby…mmmh…”

That long, drawn out groan into her neck had her whimpering. This man had her weak. Summer raked her nails down his chest before twisting the fabric of his T-shirt into her fist.

“Here, please,” Summer thrust her chest into him, “Daddy, please…”

“I love the way you beg, baby girl…” Terry kissed down her neck, “you’ll be doin’ a lot of that shit tonight. Beg for me to suck on that pussy…beg for me to fit this dick in you nice and good…”

“Terry…”

His malleable lips created a tickling sensation until he reached her breasts. Summer watched with desperation as his lips covered the fleshy hills in a repeated motion. She was mewling. Nipples so hard. He started kissing around each nipple through her dress. Summer clawed the suede sofa.

“Daddy…”

She was shivering.

“Want more? Where you want it? Talk to me…”

She was able to control the quiver of her lower lip to speak, “Please suck on my nipples…I can’t take it.”

“Nahhh, you gotta beg harder than that…”

Summer moaned softly, “uhnnnnnn…” when he used his teeth to nibble on her nipples, “Daddy, I want you to suck my nipples. Do whatever you want to my titties…please, please, please….”

Terry peered up at Summer with those hypnotic eyes.

“Good girl…that’s how you ask for what you want…”

With one hand, Terry’s eyes remained fixated on Summer’s face, he lowered the top of her strapless, body-con dress, one beautiful, round, breast coming into view. Skin like honey, nipples and areolas a deep brown. Busty and asymmetrical. Perfectly imperfect. Her bejeweled nipple pebbled and Terry’s lips parted.

“Shit, you just don’t know…”

He revealed the other breast and it jiggled a little upon its release.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…”

He blew air onto her nipples. Summer arched her back. Terry used that opportunity to slither his hands beneath her to keep her chest elevated so he could attack each big titty the way he wanted. Hair in her face, glossy lips slightly open, soft moans flowing from her mouth, Summer looked pleasantly horny.

Terry started off with flicking her nipples back and forth. His pink tongue is warm and wet. When his lips drew her left nipple into her mouth first, Summer cried out. Her thighs gripped his waist, and Terry couldn’t wait to feel those soft thighs do the same thing to his head.

“Ah, mmm, unhhhh, yesss…you like these fat titties, daddy?”

“Mhm,” Terry was in the zone sucking back and forth.

She could tell he was a titty man alright. He rubbed his face in it, dragged his teeth down her breast bone, used his big, strong, veiny hands to push her breast together so he could trace his tongue back and forth.

“I’m a need you to do that on this pussy!”

Terry released a laugh, burying his face between her breasts. Summer was hot all over and close to tackling this man!

“More wine first,” Terry rest his cheek against one of her breasts as he looked up at her, “So soft…the best pillow…”

Summer exhaled impatiently, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.”

Terry kissed her breasts one last time before covering her back up, “Are you okay with me getting the wine? While you put on some music?”

Summer wasn’t prepared for the visual. Terry stood up and as he was fixing his shirt that had lifted up, she focused on those abs, the strip of hair leading down to his crotch, and the deep v-cut. The lower her eyes went, the more she had to stop herself from dropping to her knees. A very vivid and distinct outline of his third leg sat along his thigh like a python beneath a sheet waiting to strike. He was on brick.

“It’ll be all yours tonight…”

Their eyes met with equal desire.

“I’ll go grab that wine…bathroom?”

“Uh…d–down the hall and t–to your right.”

Terry chuckled, “I’ll be back.”

He disappeared and Summer let out a long exhale. She walked over to her Bluetooth sound system and knew exactly what she wanted to listen to.

——

Summer dimmed the lights with her cell phone and after five minutes, Terry returned with their glasses and a bottle.

Storming outside, rain

She keeps me home

Quiet conversation makes me warm

So

Summer rain

Whispers me to sleep

And wakes me up again

Sometimes i swear i hear her call my name…

Terry smiled at her. Summer pat the sofa cushion next to her enthusiastically. He handed her a glass and plopped down, throwing an arm over her shoulder. His finger tips caressed her arm as they sang along to summer rain

“So go ahead and make it rain…you bring the sunshine back again…”

“Okay vocals!” Summer teased.

Terry threw his head back and laughed, “Stop.”

“I’m just teasing, daddy,” Summer snuggled closer, “More wine, please…”

“Anything for you,” Terry leaned forward to retrieve the bottle.

Summer rain started playing again.

They emptied the bottle of wine and their tipsy banter stared. Terry was very playful. He had Summer trapped beneath him on the throw rug, his shirt off and thrown somewhere. Summer couldn’t stop giggling. The wine had her feeling light and cozy. Her laughter couldn’t be contained.

“If you follow directions, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Terry had her by her wrists above her head, “You gotta behave to get what you want, Summer. I’m not asking…I’m telling.”

“It’s on my thigh, and you expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to remember who’s in charge…”

“Terry,” Summer rolled her eyes, “You haven’t felt how deep this throat can go yet.”

“So? What that mean?” Terry arched a dark brow, “You ain’t felt my mouth on your pussy yet.”

Terry sat back on his knees above Summer. She lifted up onto her elbows. He tucked his chin slightly and stared at her with this primal look that reminded her of a jungle cat.

“…take this dress off.”

Summer sat up on her butt and shimmy’s her hips, bringing her dress up and over her head, revealing black, cheeky, lace panties and a matching strapless bra. Terry crawled to her. He pulled her into a fierce kiss. Summer’s hands roamed all over his muscles. His skin is so soft.

“Your room…now…” Terry spoke against her lips, “Right now…”

They both stood on unsteady legs, laughing. Terry popped Summer on the ass and she whimpered softly. They moved towards the stairs, Terry creating space between them so he could watch Summer seduce him with her slow ascend. She would look back at him as she climbed, smirking at him with those siren eyes. That booty in those panties made him want to take a bite.

He’d been dying to see her room. She pushed open the double doors and Terry came face-to-face with a room made for a vixen. The dark palate mixed with low lighting created the perfect space to get nasty. And he planned to get real nasty. Terry walked up on Summer from behind, and with one hand, he gathered her straightened hair into his fist neatly and tugged. She pivoted back against him, her soft cheeks flush against his crotch.

“I’m undressing you…”

Hair still in his grasp, Terry worked on her bra. It fell from her body to the floor. He released her hair so that he could drop down and take her panties off. Summer looked over her shoulder at him. He peeled her panties away at a snails pace. His lips kissed her back dimples. She wiggled her hips to help him lower her panties. Buttery, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

Terry nibbled on her ass like a famished man. His hands kneaded her plump flesh. It was time to peel the crotch of her panties away from her pussy.

“Bend forward slightly…yes…just like that…”

His deep grunt told her all she needed to know. Terry was blown away by how much sticky, wetness connected to her panties. A slimy, sweetness he couldn’t wait to clean up with his tongue. The aroma of her arousal activated his taste buds. The shape of her lips from the back had him mesmerized. Summer stepped out of her panties quickly so Terry could have her completely.

“C’mere,” Terry stood and walked Summer towards her bed, “Sit this pussy on my mouth right now.”

He got down on the floor and tilted his head back on the bed. Summer straddled his face and tilted her pelvis forward. Terry placed each hand on her ass to push her closer. The moment her pussy smothered him, he used his tongue to clean up her mess.

“Fuck!”

Summer felt his tongue part her outer lips and swipe upward. She almost saw heaven.

“Mhm…”

Her legs shook. Terry pushed her legs apart further with force so he can eat it more. Summer raised a leg to the edge of the bed and Terry wasted no time using his lips and tongue in junction to slurp on her pussy.

“Yes….oh….”

This was a man that knew what he was doing. He didn’t have to tell you. Summer started feeding his mouth some pussy with a roll of her hips. Terry followed her movements eagerly. Clit hard, folds nice and slick, she knew she was close. It was only a matter of time.

“Terry, I’m gonna cum in your mouth…”

His silence was her undoing. He was too busy eating pussy like a starved man. She could hear his big lips working her up to a juicy cum. His tongue darting in and out of her wet hole, her clit being attacked from every angle imaginable, she was going to burst.

“Terry…Terryyyyyy…”

That ass and those thighs jiggled out of control.

“Uhhhhhh….ahhhhhhh….huuuuuuuuhh….”

She fisted the sheets so hard her nails dug info her skin painfully. The aftershocks of her release left lingering tremors she couldn’t control. Terry removed his lips from her clit, a trail of her cum connected to his bottom lip. His face was covered in sweat and cum. Summer threw herself onto the bed so Terry could stand. She looked at him and watched as he licked his lips.

“So good…your pussy tastes so good…”

“Thank you…now I wanna taste you…”

It was the moment she’d been waiting for. Terry hummed his approval, walking up towards her. Summer worked to undo his pants with frantic movements. Terry didn’t stop her. She wanted that dick in her mouth.

“Get yours, baby…”

“Oh, I will,” Summer replied.

Summer lowered his pants and briefs. His dick bobbed out and she had to take a moment to just…

He was definitely a big boy. Enough to stretch you out. That pain and pleasure mix. His length told her she would feel it in her stomach. The veins created a path for her tongue to take. His tip; the perfect shape to fit in her mouth perfectly. His balls were taunt and heavy. It was a masterpiece.

“Summer…put this dick in your mouth…that’s an order.”

An order she would gladly accept. Summer kissed along his shaft. Terry smoothed her hair back so she wouldn’t mess it up. Her kisses turned sloppy, then she added some tongue, then she found herself sinking down onto his pole the sides of her mouth stretched to accommodate all of him.

“Put more in there,” Terry placed his arms behind his back, watching her like a drill sergeant, “there you go…such a good little thing, ain’t you?”

He sat at the back of her throat. Summer used her neck and jaw muscles to work that dick with loud sucking and spit bubbles. Terry’s mouth dropped open when she showed him that she could deep throat. Her tongue wiggled against his balls and Terry almost nutted down her throat from that alone.

“Damn, girl…you lovin’ this big dick?”

“Mmmmcmcjdkssk—”

“Fuuuck,” Terry’s beautiful eyes rolled shut, “that’s how you suck this dick…that’s how you show daddy…”

Summer loved sucking dick. Terry’s dick deserved all the love. She would suck it and look in his eyes. Terry stared back with furrowed brows and a bite of his lip.

“Summer…”

Her name resonated from his voice so deep and lustrous.

She pulled out all her tricks. Sucked his balls, focused on his tip, licked his frenulum. Terry’s ab muscles flexed and his squared jaw clenched. Her hair in his grip, Terry was losing his sanity.

“I’m cumming—”

Thick, ropes of ejaculate filled her mouth.

“Ughh–ahhhhh fuck—”

Summer drank down every single drop like it was the sweetest cream filling. She’d waited months to do this and she was going to make this beautiful man cum. That fat dick hung in her face ready for more action and she had a wet pussy for it to dig into.

“Aight, on your back, no more wasting time.”

Terry spoke those words with such urgency. Summer felt the firmness in his tone. She scooted onto the bed and spread her legs wide and limber. Terry climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. The feeling of the tip of his dick sitting against her pussy lips made this moment all too real.

“Yes…put that big dick in me…”

Terry placed himself above her and with one hand, he guided his dick between her lips and then with a slight thrust of his hips, he sank inside of Summer. She gasped, knees drawing into her chest. Terry watched his dick split her open with a penetrating stare. Summer tried to move and Terry locked her legs to her ears.

“You want me to keep you still? I suggest you stop moving.”

She froze.

With one thrust, he was fully inside of her. Summer moaned louder. As a reflex, she tried to close her legs, but Terry wasn’t having that.

“Terry! Holy FUCKING SHIT!”

“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”

He smirked mischievously. She was ruined.

Terry pumped into her at a moderate pace. Summer couldn’t handle taking all that dick and focusing on his eyes at the same time. There was no way.

“It’s so big!”

“It’s big but this pussy love it, this pussy love it, look at this pussy…creamin’ all over me like that…such a messy girl…”

Summer was making a mess indeed. You could hear it and see it. Wet, sloshing noises.

“Ain’t been fucked in a while…got you wettin’ this dick up.”

She couldn’t handle the way his dick stroked her spot.

“Stretchin’ this pussy out? Didn’t I say I wasn’t gon’ take it easy?”

She couldn’t speak. How could she? Terry had her folded in half and teetering over the edge. She felt her stomach grow tight and her body seized up.

“T–T–T—”

Summer didn’t have a chance. She turned her head and cried out. Terry held his dick deep while staring down at her face.

“You tryna push me out?” Terry chuckled evily, “What if I don’t wanna leave?”

“P–please, daddy…”

“Hmm,” Terry slowly withdrew his hips, “Please keep fucking you?”

His words were killing her. She could only nod her head.

Oh! Boy I've been waiting

(Oh oh oh)

Now my body's shaking

(Oh oh oh)

You're so deep, baby please, take it easy…

“Think you can arch your back for me?”

Terry kissed Summer on her lips.

“Mhm…”

Terry lifted Summer and helped her into position. She arched her back exactly how he wanted her. Deep with that ass high in the air. He was tall so it needed to be. Terry had a handful of her ass and that was his leverage to anchor his dick in her pussy. Summer groaned into the sheets. She looked breathtaking. Hair fanned out above her. Back in a beautiful position. Ass sitting up and giving Terry the best view of that pink pussy.

“Oooh!”

She could feel him almost touch her heart with how long his dick is!

“Terry, it’s too much!”

He wasn’t even giving her all of him. He arched a brow down at her.

“What did we discuss…”

She knew to be a big girl but LAWD he was hefty.

“I know…it’s just so big…”

“With a body like this…it’s built for dick like mine…”

He stroked slower, Summer drooling onto her sheets.

“Nah you look at me when I’m in this pussy…”

“Summer turned her head and looked back at Terry.

“There’s my pretty girl…such a pretty girl.”

Summer put a finger in her mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier while staring into his eyes.

“Fine ass,” Terry picked up the pace.

“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!”

Summer bit down on her finger and her eyes crossed. She coated his dick again and at this point it was dripping wet. Terry pulled out and ate her from behind. He couldn’t control himself. Summer tried to move her hips away and it earned a sharp slap to the ass. Terry resurfaced, pumping his dick in his hand. He snatched Summer by her hair and abruptly angled her head to suck him off. Summer did just that while Terry fingered her pussy from the back. He started talking her through it.

“Fingers deep in this pussy, little one? Mmhm…”

Summer stroked him while sucking on his tip.

“There you go, such a creamy little slut…”

She furrowed her brows at the feeling of two fingers pumping her. She was leaking to the bed.

“Daddy fingering this pussy good? Hmm?”

Summer spit his dick out, “I’m cumming!”

Terry continued to work his fingers knuckle deep. Summer felt something burst inside of her and soon she was creating a puddle between her legs. Terry’s fingers slipped out and he brought them to her mouth to taste. Summer licked them clean for him.

“I know you can give me more, right?”

“Yes…” Summer replied weakly.

Terry placed Summer on her back and then he got between her legs from the side. Terry pointed his still hard dick at her pussy and with one look into her eyes he was back inside like he never left. His toned hips worked to drill her hole.

“Daddy! Cum already!” Summer begged.

It felt too good and she couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure. She pressed a weak hand against his abs, attempting to push him away, only for Terry to lock her wrist down. He licked his lips at her and gave her a sly smirk while continuing to fuck her into the mattress.

“Terry…”

“Yes?”

Summer erupted. The tight hold from her walls made his balls tighten and his dick pulsate within her wetness.

“Give me this pussy!”

Terry’s hips stuttered out of control. He couldn’t hold off any longer. This good pussy on her had his dick so sensitive.

“Summer…FUCK!”

Terry pulled out and Summer shot up from the bed with her tongue poked out and eyes on him. Terry fisted his long dick, emptying a big load all over her tongue and face. It just wouldn’t stop. His ass muscles clenched from the overwhelming pressure. Summer looked pleasantly fucked and her giggle warmed his heart.

“You’re such a nasty girl…”

“All for you…”

[iambilliejeanok]

✨How my favorite anime men would handle being a side piece:

Fandoms: Naruto||Jujustu Kaisen||Baki🩵

Warnings: 18+ , explicit, nsfw.

✨Naruto:

He genuinely doesn’t mind being your little thang thang on the side, as long as he gets adequate attention he’s really okay. Now naturally, you might not always have time for him seeing that you have to balance work, your main hubby and him too, which could lead to having to think of a few excuses to rain check seeing him. In the beginning, he would just roll his eyes and shrug it off, understanding his place, but recently, he’s been behaving rather ballsey.

Look, he respects and cares about you enough to not try to ruin your relationship with your main, but honey, he’s not scared of your little boyfriend, so don’t think he won’t actually rock up uninvited to your apartment while your man is there because he’s tired of you canceling plans for this main dude. He has absolutely no respect for your boyfriend in all honesty.

Having Naruto as a side is sooo risky because you can never be too confident that he won’t try something on you while your man is right there. If he wants to fight Naruto is more than happy to.

✨Gojo:

lol, in the beginning, he kind of understands. Everybody needs a little break from reality every now and then, and he knows you need him to satisfy a few needs of yours that your man simply cannot. While he’s got you creaming and squinting back to back from the overwhelming, deep strokes with your knees behind your head, he will make you confess your innermost feelings to him with tears in your eyes, which he finds absolutely funny.

When he’s not poking your bladder, he will remind you of the words you spoke in bed and tease you over it. But listen girl, he’s only your side piece because he’s choosing to be it. Maybe he also doesn’t have time to fully commit to an actual relationship, but whatever the reason, you better hope and pray that things stay that way, because if he does catch feelings for you, Gojo doesn’t mind straight up telling your man that you’re ONLY gonna be his girlfriend from here on out. Especially with the way your orgasms grip him while he’s deep inside of you, how you cry his name out like a desperate prayer and most especially how beautiful you look in the aftermath of the mess he puts you through, LORD HAVE MERCY, he’s gonna tell your boyfriend exactly what’s going on down to the finest detail and he’s serious. Gojo will sit your man down at a nice cafe, order him a beverage of his choice and simply let him know that you are no longer going to be his girlfriend, because he’s decided he wants you all to himself. The end. If the your man decides to argue Gojo might simply shut him down with a “Fight for her. I dare you”, with an innocent smile on his pretty face, before getting up to leave.

✨Nanami:

Nanami knew what he was getting himself into. You were open and honest when you told him you were only looking for entertainment when your man wasn’t around, but even so, he still gets slightly sassy with you when you tell him you have to leave and go back to your main man.

He might give you the silent treatment when you come back to him after a long week of spending time with your boyfriend. He will respectfully ask you to not touch him without taking a shower first and he will sit infront of the shower and watch you wash yourself from head to toe to make extra sure that that man’s energy will be no where near him throughout the duration of your visit.

He hopes and prays that you’ll one day come to your senses a day leave your boyfriend for good, which isn’t such a difficult decision to make considering how much of a gentleman Nanami is. He always reminds you that you can simply chose him over you boyfriend any day and if your boyfriend ever bothers you, he will put an end it him. Literally.

✨Baki:

Baki isn’t going to be a side piece. Plain and simple. He is going to be the main in this, and the actual main will have to move over and become the side dish okay. It’s actually quite humiliating because your boyfriend can’t even fight, so he has to allow Baki to walk all over him.

Baki can be a little bit of a bully sometimes, most especially if your boyfriend resists him and shows a little courage and determination to keep you. It won’t end well for your boyfriend though because Baki might consider fucking you until you’re begging him to give you a break and will force your boyfriend to watch the entire show, reminding him that this right here is the exact reason why you’re too tired to sleep with him when you get back home from “the gym” or “extra shifts at work” .

[mandarinmoons]

Could I please request for Spencer where reader is in the bau and her and Spencer aren’t exactly friends but they keep it professional but sassy and one night after a case he comforts her because he secretly likes her ? Tysm ❤️

There’s never a dull moment when working at the BAU, whether it be a psychopathic killer or an evening with the team where everyone could let loose with a glass of wine.

You liked to have your fun, but you were determined to keep things professional with everyone. However, one of your coworkers managed to get closer to you than the others and you had your, dare you say, “unprofessional” moments with him.

Both of your bodies allerted you around the same time when coffee was needed and that was when the majority of the quips between you two took place.

“Half a bottle of sugar again, Reid?”

You watched Spencer pour in the needed amount of sugar into his coffee and noticed a small grin form on his lips.

“I think you should know by now how I take it.”

“Yeah, all sugar and no caffeine at this point.”

The banter between you two kept on going as time went on and you felt your poker face disappear every time he walked into the room, the way you wanted to be perceived by your peers was not going to last, especially after one night.

The team left the office one by one as the workday ended. You were still sitting at your desk, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. The case that was just finished didn’t go as well as planned and it left everyone’s mood sour, especially yours. You were the one who tried to talk the unsub into letting the hostage go, you were so close and yet you failed. You were questioning your abilities and if you should even continue, the guilt was too much to bear.

As you leaned your head back and closed your eyes to rest you heard someone walk up behind you.

“Are you okay?”

You sat up and looked behind you, seeing Spencer look down on you with sad eyes.

“I um, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Spencer sat down on the chair next to you and eyed you up and down, your back slouched against the chair and your head hanging down, biting your lip and eyes still staring down at the papers in front of you.

“You did your best out there.”

You looked up at Spencer and saw his eyes staring back at you, the brown of his eyes having a comforting quality to them.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Spencer looked down at his hands and gulped before continuing, “I know how you feel. There have been times where I think I could’ve done better, acted better, because maybe then they’d still be alive.”

You nodded and looked down at the picked skin along your nails, a bad habit that came out during stressful times.

“But… you can’t let that stop you from doing what you do. Think of all the lives you’re going to save in the future, they need you, we need you.”

It was as if Spencer was reading your mind and knew all of the thoughts going on in your head. You knew that you couldn’t let yourself get too out of hand with your feelings because more people needed you, but you just couldn’t shake it. Hearing it coming from Spencer though felt reassuring, you had no idea how his words managed to be so comforting for you, but you were grateful.

“I need you guys too,” seeing a hint of a smile play on your lips made Spencer break out in a smile as well.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Do you, uh, do you want me to help you finish your paperwork?”

“That would be nice of you,” you scooted to the side with your chair and passed a few papers over to Spencer and handed him a pen. Your fingers touched slightly as he took the pen from your grasp and from the corner of your eye you saw his cheeks form a reddish hue.

The rest of the hour was spent more on joking than actually working. Eventually the paperwork was finished and Spencer being the gentleman that he is, helped you into your coat and held the door for you when walking out of the bullpen.

When reaching the parking lot and walking towards your cars, you stopped and faced Spencer.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome but it’s not needed.”

“Yes it is. I would’ve driven myself insane if you hadn’t stepped in and calmed me down.”

Spencer chuckled and looked down, your words were clearly getting to him and making him nervous.

A moment later you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Spencer froze at first but pulled you in closer and rested his chin on your head, you couldn’t remember the last time a hug felt so comforting.

The two of you stayed in the position for a good minute until you pulled back and looked into Spencer’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of-”

“It’s okay, I liked it.”

You two were left staring at each other in the parking lot for what felt like an eternity until someone walked past the both of you and heard them unlocking their car.

“I should go now, thanks again Spence.”

Spencer nodded and walked over to his car, thinking of the nickname you had just called him, meanwhile you melted into the driver's seat of your car, taking in the moment you just had with your coworker. Was he just a coworker? No, he was your friend, and to Spencer you were something more than a friend.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

[veryblushyswitch]

💔 A Better Way to Fight 💔

Summary: A sarcastic comment makes Robbie wanna pound Dipper into dust. However, when Wendy rides up on her bike, Robbie needs to figure out another way to take out his anger. 💔

Lee: Dipper

Lers: Robbie & Wendy

Author’s Note: I had an idea and I ran with it. I don’t know why ler Robbie was so intriguing, but here we are. Hope you enjoy! 💔

The sky was a beautiful blue and the pine trees glowed varying shades of green in the sunlight. It seemed like there was a rainbow of colors in Gravity Falls today. Yes the colors were always there, but I guess something about today felt different. Special almost.

Dipper Pines stepped outside of his Great Uncle’s Mystery Shack. A nice deep breath of fresh air filled his lungs. Nothing was going to ruin today. Dipper and Wendy had planned a movie night at her house. Nothing new for the two, but ever since Robbie and Wendy started dating, Dipper and Wendy haven’t been able to hang out one on one as much. So let’s just say Dipper couldn’t stop smiling whenever he thought about today’s plans. That was until he heard that agitating voice.

“Wendy!! Yo, Wendy where are you? You haven’t answered any of my calls!” Robbie was cupping his hands around his mouth shouting. Dipper rolled his eyes. Of course Robbie interrupts this perfect morning. He sighed and walked over to the still yelling teen. Robbie visibly cringed when he saw the kid.

“Oh, it’s you. Any idea where Wendy is? Learned some new chords on my guitar and wanted to show them off.” Robbie bragged, knowing how jealous Dipper must’ve been. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Dude, she was out on a trip with her family all weekend. She’s coming back sometime this afternoon.” Dipper kicked a stone out of frustration. What did Wendy see in this guy?

“If you’d listen to her maybe you’d remember some of that stuff. Isn’t that what a boyfriend is supposed to do?” Dipper’s sassy tone cut through Robbie like daggers. This twelve year old kid with a sweating problem was trying to tell him how to be a good boyfriend. Oh, he was gonna get it-

“That is it you little squirt!” Robbie yelled as he lunged for Dipper. Dipper almost got out of the way in time before he was pulled up by the hem of his shirt.

“No one tells me how to be a good boyfriend!” Robbie took one hand and poked at Dipper’s collarbone. “Especially some twerp who wears the same shorts everyday.” Robbie noticed Dipper seeming to try not to smile with each poke. That’s a weird reaction. Did he think this was funny?!

“Put me down!” Dipper pulled at his shirt still in Robbie’s grasp. Robbie was about to tell him off when they heard the sound of a bell ring. The two turned their heads to see none other than the topic of their discussion. Wendy Corduroy, the cool redhead herself, was riding her bike up to the Mystery Shack.

Robbie gasped. She couldn’t see him and the kid fighting again. She’d break up with him for sure. After reaching the gate, Wendy rested her bike against the fence and walked over to where they were standing. Now able to make out the position the two were in, she scowled.

“Hey! Are you two fighting again? C’mon you guys, you know how I feel about dudes fighting.” Wendy crossed her arms with a stern look. Robbie quickly adjusted the hold he had on the pre-teen. Taking Dipper into one arm in a sort of half bear hug against his chest. Dipper was annoyed, but put on a fake smile for Wendy. Robbie matched the same expression.

“Whaaat? Noooo. I was just… just uh-” Robbie was racking his brain on what to say. He couldn’t say they were fighting, but he couldn’t just make up something outlandish either. Wendy wouldn’t believe him if he said the two of them completely made up. That’s when he remembered Dipper’s reaction to the pokes from earlier. Of course! It was so obvious now. The kid was ticklish. Incredibly so it seemed. Robbie could work with that.

“We were just messing around. Kid got a little sassy with me and I had to teach him a lesson. Isn’t that right?” Robbie asked, bringing his other hand over and starting to poke at Dipper’s side. Dipper jerked at the touch causing Robbie to tighten his hold. He tried his hardest not to smile. No way was this happening- Not in front of Wendy!

“Lehehet goho!” Dipper choked out with a giggle. This was so embarrassing! Robbie chuckled and made the speed of the pokes more random. Even moving up and down his ribs where Dipper’s arm wasn’t pinned against his side. Dipper’s giggles couldn’t be hidden any longer. They escaped his lips as a small hint of pink flushed his cheeks. Wendy smiled at the sight.

“Aww, it’s really nice to see my two boys getting along finally. And Robbie I didn’t know you could be so playful. It’s nice to see.” She walked up so she was right in front of the pair.

“Yeah yeah totally. I’m sooo playful. Especially with this little guy right here.” Robbie switched from poking to scribbling at Dipper’s stomach. Electricity suddenly filled Dipper’s body and his light giggles turned into laughter.

“Nahahahaha! Rohohobbie! Stahahahap!” Dipper squealed, much to his dismay, and kicked his legs. Wendy giggled along with him. His laughter was too contagious not to. If Robbie couldn’t beat him up, this was the next best thing. He was even making Wendy think he was just being playful with the little guy. Win win.

“Not until you take back what you said earlier.” Robbie ‘threatened’ as he added more pressure to his fingers. Dipper shrieked and his squirming became a bit more desperate.

“Nehehehever! It’s truhue! Ahahaha! Wehehendy hehehelp!” Dipper reached his hands out as far as he could. Surly Wendy would help him. After all, Wendy knew just how ticklish Dipper was from all the times she’d seen him get tickled by Mabel. She had even gotten him a few times during their movie nights. Speaking of which, she couldn’t help herself and felt the need to join in on the fun.

“Sure I’ll help. Robbie, his armpits are a hotspot.” Wendy let out a laugh at the shocked face Dipper gave her before he fell back into laughter. Robbie looked at Dipper with the most devilish grin Dipper had seen. He was having way too much fun with this.

“You don’t say?” Robbie stopped his attack for a moment to adjust his hold. He quickly grabbed Dipper under his arms and held him out in front of him. His fingers still, but the mere presence of them on his worst spot already had Dipper giggling out pleads and kicking his legs.

“Wehehehendy- GAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO!” Robbie’s fingers suddenly sprung to life scribbling and kneading all around this underarms. Dipper pushed at Robbie’s arms, but the tickling had made his arm go weak. Only being able to grip Robbie’s wrists as gravity prevented any sort of leeway to push or pull away.

“STAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEASE! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!” Dipper pleaded. Wendy giggled and even snapped a picture or two. If Dipper wasn’t blushing already- Dipper sometimes forgot the fact that Wendy had three younger brothers. Her older sister side was coming out and he was unfortunately the victim.

“You gonna take it back now? Or am I gonna have to ask Wendy for more tips?“ Robbie glanced at Wendy and gave her a wink. Wendy gladly accepted his invitation. Walking closer and grabbing both of Dipper’s knees in a claw-like shape. Dipper’s legs kicked out at her on instinct. Missing her, however, since she stood to the side.

“NONONONOHOHOHO! DOHOHOHON’T!” Wendy hadn’t even began and he was already feeling the phantom sensations. She nodded to Robbie and started squeezing at his kneecaps. Dipper’s laughter went up an octave as a high-pitched squeal echoed through the woods.

“Wohoah. Didn’t know someone could be this ticklish.” Robbie laughed as Dipper groaned through his laughter. Maybe this kid wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he could take him down with a few knee squeezes.

“Oho yeah. I’ve gotten him a good few times. He deserves it almost everytime though.” Wendy’s fingers moved to behind his knees and that’s when Dipper was about ready to throw in the towel. His struggling was futile. Robbie had a good grip and he knew he wasn’t going to stop until he said what he wanted. And if he didn’t give in now he was gonna die laughing.

“OKAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! IHI TAHAHAHA- I TAHAHAKE IT BAHAHAHACK!” Dipper managed to say through his cackles. The two finally halted their fingers. Robbie almost just let Dipper fall to the ground before remembering Wendy was there and instead set him down gently. His knees almost buckled from them still tingling. He wrapped his arms around himself and graciously took deep breaths. Man, those two could be ruthless.

“Thahat was soho mehean.” Dipper giggled out. Robbie chuckled and Wendy laughed. The kid could be really adorable when he wasn’t so uptight and hard on himself. She bent down and pulled him into a side hug.

“Oh please, I’ve seen Mabel get you way worse, buddy. Plus, you should really laugh like that more. It’s reheally contagious.“ She punctuated her sentence with a poke to his side causing him to giggle. She stood up and ruffled his hat. Dipper smiled. Still embarrassed about the whole situation, but it reminded him that Wendy doesn’t think he’s uncool.

“Hehe. Thahanks. I guess.” Dipper giggled, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking at the dirt. Wendy grabbed Robbie’s arm and dragged him over to her to hold him against her side.

“You find out he’s ticklish too yet?” Wendy jabbed at Robbie. Both in the literal and metaphorical sense when she poked Robbie’s rib after asking the question. Robbie yelped and slammed his arm down against his side. Now he was the one blushing. Dipper smirked at that. Guess Robbie was just as ticklish as him. Well maybe not as ticklish, but he was ticklish and seemed to also be embarrassed about it.

“I had no idea. But I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Dipper answered Wendy before looking over to Robbie. He smiled and gave Robbie the smuggest little face he could muster. Robbie understood what that meant. He was not going to let him live that down, but he knew Robbie wasn’t going to let him without consequence. And honestly, being tickled was way better than being beaten up. Even if it was in front of Wendy.

[pixiesfz]

hi hi! can i request a fluffy jessie fic where her and reader have been together for a few years and reader has a kid from a different relationship (shes older than jess by a few years) and jessie just treats readers kid like her own because the other parent isn't in the kids life anymore!

I have the cutest idea!

little O j.f

plot: a year out of your marriage to your ex, you meet Jessie and so does your little daughter Olivia, it’s been a rough ride but the day finally comes that she calls Jessie mum.

warning: if you don’t want kids after this (I don’t blame you) I don’t know what will.

Olivia or liv of you were allowed (she was fussy) was your whole world and Jessie knew that, it was the first thing you brought up on your date but she insisted that it would be no problem for her.

“Jess” you started, it was now your tenth date without returning to your own home and you had both decided it was time for Jessie to meet you very sassy 3 year old.

“I want to meet her, I’ve been actually really excited for this moment for a while” she smiled and you leaned back “she’ll be confused she has never seen me date a women, well that’s also because I’ve never dated a woman long enough for them to meet her” you explained and Jessie nodded as she drove to your house.

“I’m sure it will be fine and if she doesn’t like me straight away I’ll just buy her ice cream” she said and you scoffed “no Olivia is a mini genius she will see through your plan”.

When you arrived at your home early in the evening you thanked and payed your babysitter who stared blankly at Jessie when she entered the room.

“When you told me you were going on dates, you didn’t tell me it was a Olympic gold winning soccer player” she smirked and you rolled your eyes “well that’s if Olivia doesn’t run her away like she did my ex boyfriend” you laughed as you remembered him “well maybe she did me a favour”.

The babysitter left and you made your way up to your daughters room to find her not in her bed.

“oh shit”

Unbeknownst to you your little 3 year old had heard voices when she was supposed to be asleep and got curious.

Now she stood staring at Jessie as she was looking into your pantry.

“You’re not mummy” she glared and Jessie’s eyes popped, how did a 3 year old scare her so much.

“No I’m not” she said before nervously pulling her hand out “hi my names Jessie” she smiled and Olivia stared at her

“Why are you here Jessie?” she asked with a scowl and your loud and quick footsteps entered the room “oh Jesus” you muttered at the sight.

“Jessie is here” you started as you picked up your daughter “because I want you to meet her, I plan on you two seeing eachother more often” you explained and your daughter looked in between you.

“Is this like meanie Michael?” She asked, saying his name as if it was a swear word “yes but no” you explained “Jessie will be here with me and you and-“

“And I’m not going to leave” Jessie stepped in and looked at you “I promise” she said this time looking at Olivia.

“But you’re both girls?” She asked out of curiosity and your eyes widened.

The next time Jessie came over to see you and Olivia was nice, you three went on a walk as Olivia demanded to be thrown, taking advantage of the fact there was two of you. Then you ate fish and chips at an oval and walked back.

When Jessie said goodbye she gave you a quick kiss on the lips and bent down to Olivia “I uhm- I’m going now” she said and Olivia nodded “are you going to come back?” she asked and she nodded “yeah I’ll be back” she smiled and Olivia nodded, suspicious of the girl.

Olivia refused to go to bed in her own bed that night and you were too tired to fight when she snuggled up to you in your bed.

“Mummy” she whispered out and you hummed “I don’t want Jessie to leave” she said, you turned around at her words “do you like Jessie baby?” You asked and she looked around “I like you and I don’t want you to be sad again” she said and you nodded “I don’t think Jessie will leave”

“You said the same thing about meanie michael and horrid harry”

You tried not to smile at the nickname your daughter gave your exes “Jessie’s different” you smiled at your daughter as you tan your fingers through her hair “how do you know?” She asked and you smiled “I don’t know” you admitted and Olivia frowned “but I’m glad to know you like her”

“I didn’t say I liked her” Olivia huffed and you nodded “okay then” you smirked and your daughter poured “I didn’t say I like her!”

Olivia watched as months went by, Jessie coming in and out of the house almost everyday as you now forced her to go to Jessie’s games where she promised Olivia she could walk out as her ‘mascot’ one day.

“I’m not nobody’s mascot” she replied and you both laughed “mascots get to be on the pitch” you told her and she smiled “I wanna be a mascot!” She yelled and Jessie laughed.

“This is your fault” you said as you pointed at Jessie who gasped “she now wants to be a football sensation”

“Like Sam Kerr!” Your now recently turned 4 year old yelled “what about Jessie Fleming?” You asked

“No”

Jessie shrugged “worth a try bye little O” she waved and Olivia looked at you “I’m not little” she said and you picked her up “course your not” Jessie smiled and walked back to her team but tan back to give you a kiss on the cheek then walk away again.

“I think-“ your daughter stopped before looking up again “I think I like-“ she stopped again “Liv what is-“

“I think I like Jessie” she admitted and you smiled “yeah?” You asked and she nodded “do you like her so much that you wouldn’t mind if her sleeping at the house stayed permanent?” You asked and the little girl rolled her eyes “she can’t take my room” she said and you kissed her forehead “it’s okay we’re gonna share mine”.

Jessie moved in and things were working nicely, she had signed up Olivia for soccer and now you were stuck driving the girl to trainings and games.

“Can Jessie drive me next week” Olivia asked as she got into the car, your heart swelled but you tried to hide it “have you had enough of me?” You asked pretending to be hurt but she grabbed your hand “some of the boys on my team don’t believe my mums dating a soccer star” she complained

“and also Jessie can tell them some tips because I’m running circles around them” she sighed and you laughed.

“I’m sure she would love to”

You got home and showered Olivia before sending her to bed when you joined Jessie on the couch. “Guess what?” You asked and Jessie shrugged “did Olivia injure another player?” she asked and you shook your head “oh god no, I do t think I’ve never been more angry and proud of her ever but no”

“Then what is it?” Jessie said as she leaned down on you “she asked if you could take her to training next week” at the news Jessie shot up to look at you, excitement filling her mind “really?” She asked and you nodded “I know your busy but could you-“

“Yes”

“But I know you have some team bonding-“ Jessie shit you up with her hand to your mouth “No I will call that off if Olivia wants me, I will not disappoint her” she smiled and went back to her seat.

“I love you”

The words poured out of you without you even noticing but when Jessie looked at you, your cheeks turned crimson red “I love you too” she said and she leaned down to wear you laid on the couch and kissed you.

You loved each other and lived with each other and your daughter was warming up together.

You were almost like a family.

It wasn’t until Sam and Kristies wedding that your daughter realised that.

She sat with other children at a small table where you and Jessie were sat nearby as you watched Sam and Kristie have their first dance.

She watched Sam and Kristie then to you and Jessie and wondered if you were going to ever be in the same position.

Then her mind got too excited when she was allowed onto the dance floor.

You and Jessie watched in awe as your daughter went up to another boy and danced with him, laughs filled as your whole table joined. Olivia came back to you with blushing cheeks as she told you his name was Dylan.

When she ran back to the dance floor she saw Dylan dancing with another young girl, heartbreak flowed through her as a tear ran down her eye.

This must be how mummy felt she thought before she looked back to see you with Jessie, you had a smile on your face as you slow danced.

Jessie made you happy.

So Jessie made her happy.

“Mama!” She yelled as she ran to Jessie, you turned your head with furrowed brows at the new ‘a’ sound that she didn’t usually call you but when you saw the girl jump into Jessie’s arms your eyes watered “hey little O” Jessie said as she tried her very hardest not to react weirdly at her new label.

“Dylan mama, he- he with another girl!” She complained before she cried into Jessie’s shoulder “which boy is Dylan” she said as she held Olivia closer.

You didn’t even think to slap Jessie out of her state as Olivia pointed him out and they made their way to him.

Kristie ran over to you in fear “oh my god” her American accent thick “why are you crying, are you okay?” She asked and you smiled “happy tears I promise, Olivia called Jessie mama for the first time”

Kristie gasped and grabbed your hands “really?” She asked and you nodded and you looked for your girlfriend and your daughter who were now walking back.

“Mummy why are you crying?” Olivia said “Is it because I took away Mama?” She worried as she passed Jessie towards you.

“No no darling you can have Mama as much as you want” you told her “good” she smiled “because despicable Dylan and is now too scared to dance with anyone at all” she cheered and you looked to Jessie.

“You’re now Mama so you get to talk to any angry parents who come looking for the girl who yelled at their son”

After that you heard little patters of feet walking up to your daughter.

“That boy sucks” the little blonde said and held out her hand “my names Harper” she smiled and Olivia took her hand “my names Olivia” she said and they walked off.

“Do you also have two mummies?”

[g-hughes]

Let’s talk Nico Hischier in the form of a request shall we? "I just want you to be happy! And perhaps a little bit naked."

The Girl from Across the Hall - N. Hischier

masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Ever since he moved in, Nico has had a crush on his neighbor, but she doesn't feel the same way. . . or does she?

word count: 3.0k

warnings: idiots to lovers, mentions of hookups/sex, cursing, drinking

Nico had a crush. 

At age 25, Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, had a crush on his best friend. 

It wasn’t like Nico planned on falling in love with his best friend, it just kind of happened. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it did, and there was nothing that he could do about it. 

Nico could remember the day he met her like it was yesterday. He had just been drafted by the Devils, and was moving into his apartment, by himself in Jersey City. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was terrified; being in a new country, a new city, about to embark on a brand new journey in his life. Nico thought he was doing a good job at hiding his nerves, but apparently, he was not. 

On the second week of being on his own, Nico had ventured out to get some basic things for his apartment that his mother hadn’t already supplied him with. He was thankful that his parents had flown across the ocean to help him move in. He hadn’t ever lived on his own before, and found himself calling his parents almost every single day. Nico had gotten by for two weeks with the basic supplies and amenities he had, but he wanted to get some more things like a blender and a waffle iron, and maybe some decorative pillows. 

But Nico was a lot like his mother, and ended up buying a lot more than what he had wanted to get. With his arms full of shopping bags, Nico made the trek up to his tenth floor apartment, breaking a sweat by the time he got to his front door. He grunted as he shifted the bags around, trying to grab his keys out. 

“C’mon,” He said to himself, trying to adjust his keys in his hands, his arms beginning to hurt from the bags cutting off circulation, “Fuck! Fuck!” He cursed as his keys clattered to the ground, “Fuck!” 

“You okay?” A gorgeous girl in a pair of shorts and a tank top stood in her doorway, a confused look on her face. 

Nico sighed, and looked down at his keys, “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” She asked and Nico shook his head. 

“I dropped my keys,” He said in defeat. 

“I see,” She said, stepping out of the door, “You just move in?” He nodded, and she bent down to grab his keys, easily finding the one to the door, “I’m Y/N,” She introduced herself, putting the key in the lock, and turning it, “My sister and I live across the hall.” 

“Nico,” He said, and she pushed the front door open, “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” She nodded, “But you know. . . the doors have their own key fob you could’ve used. Hell of a lot easier than fiddling with a key,” Nico’s jaw dropped dumbfoundedly, as he watched Y/N skip back across the hall, “Nice to meet you, Nico!” 

And now, nearly 7 years later, Nico lived in the same apartment with Y/N still across the hall. Though things had changed over the years, such as Y/N’s sister moving out and Nico becoming the captain of the devils, their friendship never changed. They got closer as the years went on, both of them being the same age, having some of the same interests. But Nico was drawn to her personality; confident, sassy, smart, a beautiful person both inside and out, but also a bit intimidating. Nico had witnessed her first hand hold her ground against pissed off hockey fans, and dudes who think they are entitled to get something after a first date. 

And maybe that was why Nico was afraid to tell her how he felt. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want to lose her as a friend. Y/N had been one of the first people he had connected with when he moved to Jersey. She was there through it all, his tough rookie season, bad losses, exciting wins, being named captain, a run in the play-offs, a miserable season following. She was his person, his best friend. And he was going to be damned if he did anything to mess with that. 

So Nico kept his feelings a secret, and kept on playing the dutiful best friend role that he had been playing for the past 7 years. Even when all he could do was sit on a barstool and watch as she danced with some random guy at the bar. 

“You know,” Jack said, sitting down next to Nico, “This is getting pathetic.” 

“What is?” Nico asked, looking at his alternate captain. 

“You,” Jack said, honestly and the Swiss man furrowed his eyebrows, “And her,” Jack then pointed to where Y/N was, her back pressed against some guy as they swayed to the music. 

“She’s having fun,” Nico shrugged, “And I’m making sure he doesn’t disrespect her.” 

“Oh you are such a hero, Nico! A stand up guy! Oh please have my babies!” Jack feigned, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated move, “You’re making me sad! It’s a bar! We just clinched a playoff spot! And you’re making me sad!” 

“Then don’t look at me,” Nico sassed back. He grabbed his beer and took a hefty sip, before looking back at the dancefloor where Y/N was still with that guy. She was facing him now, whispering something in his ear, as his hands sat dangerously low on her hips. Maybe they were discussing going home with each other. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Nico spotted her coming home with a guy or watching a guy leave out her front door. It broke his heart every single time, but he would never tell her that. 

“Look,” Jack said, sitting his beer down, “I am just looking out for you, okay. It is painfully obvious that you have a thing for Y/N, and it’s kind of obvious that she doesn’t feel the same. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I feel like that's where this is heading.” 

Nico sighed, hanging his head, “So what do I do?” He asked honestly. 

“You find yourself a hottie, take her home, and bang her,” Jack said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “Hey, I know that you haven’t had your dick in something other than your hand since you broke up with Macy eight months ago.” 

Jack was right, Nico hadn’t been intimate with anyone since his ex. Macy was a great girl, fantastic even. She never got mad or upset about him always being going or putting most of his focus on hockey and the team. The only issue was, she wasn’t Y/N. Nico hated that every time he kissed Macy or touched her, he would imagine she was Y/N. When Nico broke up with Macy, she wasn’t mad, and it was almost as if she expected it. She even told him that she knew his heart wasn’t completely in it, and that it belonged to someone else. 

“I don’t do one night stands,” Nico said. 

“How do you know? Ever had one?” 

Nico was silent for a moment, “No.” 

“Then?” Jack encouraged, “Just get it out of your system.” 

Nico pondered it for a moment, looking around the bar. It was packed, girls in scantily dressed clothing, and men with fake designer clothing on. The loud music felt like a second heartbeat in Nico’s chest, and the air was thick with sweat. 

“Her,” Jack said, pulling Nico’s attention, and pointing to a girl on the other side of the bar, “She’s just your type, she looks like Y/N.” Nico hated to admit it, but the girl on the other side of the bar did look a lot like Y/N. A tall-ish build, with beautiful curves and a bright smile. However this girl had a certain aura about her, as if she was commanding all eyes to be on here, where for Y/N, all the eyes in the room naturally followed her. 

“I’ll be back,” Nico said, chugging down the rest of his beer before going to the girl. 

It was about five minutes later that Y/N came bouncing up to the bar, out of breath, and in dire need of a drink. She loved going to bars and clubs like this. She loved feeling the bass in her bones, the bright lights robbing her of her site, the layer of sweat on her body. She knew that Nico hated it, but would grin and bear it just for her, he hated her going to these places alone. But the Devils were in the playoffs and so coming to the club was a must for celebration. 

“How ya been, Dancin’ Queen?” Jack greeted her. 

“Dying of thirst!” Y/N answered back, draping an arm around his shoulders. He held up his beer in offering and she shook her head, “Water, please. I don’t like drinking alcohol at the club.”

“You’re so weird,” Jack shook his head, but knew her reasoning. Y/N only liked to drink in a ‘controlled environment’ as she would call it, the comfort of her apartment or Nico’s or Jack’s, or anywhere that wasn’t in public. She was just naturally a ball of fun at the club, sober.

 Jack waved down the bartender and asked for a glass of water, which Y/N thanked him for. The cool liquid felt amazing down her dry throat, “Where’s Nico?” 

“Overthere,” Jack smirked, nodding towards the other side of the bar. Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw her best friend, leaned up on the side of the bar talking to a gorgeous woman, “Where’s your date?” 

“My date?” Y/N asked, looking back at Jack. 

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “The guy you were dry humping on the dance floor.” 

“Logan?” Y/N asked again, a laugh tumbling from her lips, “He’s been my friend since elementary. He’s just here for the weekend.” 

“Mhm,” Jack nodded, rubbing his lips together. Y/N looked back over towards Nico, a weird feeling in her chest as she watched him move in closer to the girl, and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Y/N swallowed down the rest of her water, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’ll order an uber or something.” 

Jack snapped his head towards her, “What? No? You love this club!” 

“Yeah,” She sighed in defeat, “But I’m tired and my feet hurt and the music is starting to give me a headache.” Jack looked at her incredulously. Usually Jack and Nico were dragging Y/N out of the club at the end of the night, hardly ever did she want to leave before last call. Jack looked over at Nico, and then at Y/N, realization settling on his features. 

She was jealous. 

“Are you-” 

“I’m leaving,” Y/N ordered, turning on her heel, but Jack grabbed her arm. 

“Hey,” Jack said, “One, you’re not going to get into an uber by yourself on a friday night in Jersey City. I’ve watched enough SVU to know that’s a recipe for disaster.” 

“Thanks detective Tutuola,” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts being pushed up over the top of her silver slip dress, “Are you coming then?” 

“Yes,” Jack grumbled, “Hold on.” He turned back towards where Nico was standing, waving his hand to get his friend’s attention, but Y/N was growing impatient, not wanting to stand there and watch Nico talk to some girl who was giving him ‘fuck me’ eyes. 

“Uber is two minutes out.” 

“Fuck it! I’ll just text him.” Jack groaned, slamming back the rest of his drink and getting up from his barstool, “C’mon.” He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her hastily out of the bar towards the awaiting bar.

“That’s seriously so cool!” The girl, whose name Nico learned is Megan, said, “I have only been to Switzerland once, and it was the most beautiful place I have ever been too. We went up to the mountains and ugh. . . that’s a sight I still have dreams about.” 

“Yeah it’s def-” Nico was cut off as his phone buzzed in his pocket, “Excuse me,” He blushed as he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, seeing a message from Jack. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he read it and then looked up, seeing Jack slam his glass down and all but run out of the club, his hand on Y/N’s back. Nico looked back down at the message, anger blooming in his chest. 

‘Going home with Y/N. Don’t wait up.’ 

Nico clenched his jaw, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He huffed and turned towards Megan, “You want to get out of here?” 

Megan licked her lips and nodded, “Sure.” 

— — — 

This is what the walk of shame must’ve felt like, though she had little shame as she walked down the hallway on the tenth floor to her apartment. It was more like she didn’t want anyone to see her current state of dress, a large oversized t-shirt, a pair of men’s boxers, and white nike socks all courtesy of Jack Hughes. After they left the club, Y/N didn’t want to return to her empty apartment, instead she went back to Jack’s place, where Luke had escaped to earlier in the night. She had crashed in Jack’s bed after many more drinks and rounds of UNO. 

Now, she was making that fateful walk back home, her silver dress strewn over her arm and her heels in her other hand. Her hair was a mess of curls and hairspray, her face felt disgusting with the remnants of last night’s makeup. Y/N was almost home safe, when her neighbor opened his door, startling her. 

“Hey,” Nico said, standing shirtless in nothing but a pair of running shorts and sneakers, “You’re just getting home?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “I ended up staying at Jack’s last night after we left.” 

Nico felt his heart speed up, “Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N said again, this time shrugging, “I felt like I had been home alone so much this week with you guys gone, and didn’t really want to come back alone so I-” 

“But you weren’t alone,” Nico crossed his arms over his chest, “You had Jack.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at the shift in Nico’s tone, “But I was tired of looking at the same scenery, I need a change. What’s with the interrogation?” 

“Just didn’t know you and Jack were like that.” 

“We have been for a while,” Y/N shifted on her feet, “Usually he comes over here cause Luke is-” 

“Luke knows?” 

“He lives there,” Y/N was growing confused and a bit annoyed, “Look, it’s not that deep. I crashed at his place last night. I don’t know why I’m getting grilled like a criminal right now.” 

“Cause he’s my teammate,” Nico grumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, anger, jealousy, sadness. “And we’re about to go into the playoffs and I don’t need some chick messing with his head.” 

Y/N was taken aback by Nico’s words. ‘Some chick’? Y/N wasn’t just some chick. She was Nico’s best friend, and considered an honorary WAG of the Devils organization. Everyone loved and adored her, inviting her to sit in the same section with the rest of the WAGs or on roadies or to watch parties. The coaching staff knew her on a first name basis and knew that if anything happened to Nico, she was the first person to call. Y/N L/N wasn’t just some chick. And Nico knew that. 

“Fine,” Y/N pursed her lips, “Good luck in the playoffs, Nico. I’ll leave you and the rest of your team alone.” 

“Wait, Y/N-” Nico was cut off by the loud slam of her front door and the lock turning. He groaned, cursing himself in his head as he walked up to her front door, pounding his fist against the wood. 

“Go away!” 

“No!” Nico protested, continuing his loud knocking on the door. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she yanked the front door open, “Go away and quit knocking on my door like a lunatic!” Y/N went to slam her door in his face again, but Nico stopped it with his strong hand. She let out a huff as she turned on her heel, welcoming him into the apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” Nico said, running a hand through his hair, “You’re not just ‘some chick’. . .” He took in a deep breath, gathering up the courage, “You’re everything to me.” 

“Nico,” Y/N sighed, looking up at him from the couch. 

“Just listen,” Nico stood in front of her, “I’m in love with you. And I have been for a while. And I-I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and I’m okay with that. Well, I’m learning to be okay with that. It sucks, okay,” Nico shook his head with a self deprecating laugh, “It sucks because I just want you to be happy! And maybe a little naked with me,” His cheeks turned red and she couldn’t help but giggle, “But if that’s not what you want, then I’ll deal. I want what’s best for you and if Jack is what is best-” 

“Wait,” Y/N held her hand up, cutting Nico off in the middle of his confession, “Jack?” 

“Yeah,” Nico nodded, “You said that you guys have a-” 

“Oh my god,” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter falling from her lips. “Oh my god, Nico.” She closed the gap between them, placing her hands on his stubbled cheek, “Jack and I? We are friends. There is nothing and I mean nothing between us,” Her eyes searched his for a moment, as she drew in a breath, “I love you too. And I have for a while.” 

Nico didn’t hesitate to place his lips on hers, pulling her flush against his body. Years of pent up tension and wondering what the other was thinking washed away in an instant. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his brown hair. When the two of them pulled away for air, Y/N rested her forehead against Nico’s. 

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” She asked. 

“Me? Why didn’t you?” Nico laughed, “God, we’re dumb.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled up at him, “But you love me.” 

“That I do.”

[siddyyyyyyyy]

It's All an Act

Actor!AU Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 7.6 K summary: Actor!Bruce plays as your love interest in your up-coming movie warnings: afab!reader, both being about the same age, acting sex scenes on set (not real secs for now), reference to the Writer's Strike (2023) please don't arrest me, sassy and smug Bruce, making out a/n: got this idea while scrolling through pinterest, lost my mind somewhere during this, originally wanted to make a single part on it, but I think it's better if I make it a few parts instead. enjoy!

next part

Everyone knew you. Well, it was hard to find someone who didn‘t at least know how you looked like. The same goes to Bruce Wayne, but there is probably a chance that he is even more successful than you.

And that‘s exactly what you are trying to change with your new movie. Casting him as the main character and yourself as his love interest will get the media spiraling. Being a director and actor really does have its charms sometimes. And surprisingly enough, he accepted the role since he auditioned to it in the first place. Now you can finally get to prepare all the stuff for the filming days once you got all the other actors for each role filled, and the script finished.

There‘s no more satisfying feeling you get when everything seems to work out and it‘s time to actually film the movie. The hardest part is to keep it a secret for a few months until the production gets into working. But for now you are pretty satisfied with your work, getting some progress and even getting to test out new cameras for the movie, form a company that supports the production. Only thing that‘s making you a little weary is the actual success of the movie. What if he ends up getting even more popular than you? What if the movie flops completely and you need to somehow cover that up? What if you won‘t have good chemistry on set, even with two talented actors like you two? What if…

»Have you finally got the copy of the storyboard?«

Malva asks, looking to you with her usual strict look, one of your close friends waiting for your answer. She is working with the camera crew, has gone to filming school with you. Has sticked to your side through thick and thin, and she still gets ideas that blow your mind at times. Her ideas are mostly for camera directing, but that's the most exciting part in filming for most, so it really pays out.

At her question, you hand her the copy of the storyboard, getting to discuss some questions and how you actually imagined the scenes to look like, getting invested on talking with her that you don‘t notice your co-star arrive on set and search for the director.

»I‘m guessing you are the director? Sorry for interrupting.«

There is that bright smile in front of you that never fails to make you swoon for at least a split moment. No, actually, you can‘t stand the way he looks so perfect and has more prominent in media than you. Although it is a little weird when he mostly takes on smalled roles as side characters and rarely gets a main role like this.

»No, don‘t be sorry, I‘m glad you made it! We‘re still setting up some stuff, so you can get ready in trailer seven.«

He nods and gets to the trailer that is going to be his while filming, letting you have some more time with Malva and your crew to set everything up and start to film the first scenes.

You settle on filming the scenes in the middle of the movie, only able to use the setting for today and tomorrow, really hoping you won‘t film too long so the landlord of the property won‘t get angry at you.

Once settled, the filming starts and it goes by fairly nice and as planned. Sure, it was a little funny acting out a scene with him, playing a couple who‘s having an argument about their current state of relationship, even when they just met on set.

Either way, the crew and co-director are satisfied with the result after taking some more takes. Maybe this will be better than you‘ve expected. Until you realised what the next scenes were going to be. You hate yourself for writing this script. A sex-scene, seriously? Trying to overshadow your small worries, you get ready in your trailer with some help of your staff before you discuss the ‚choreography‘ of the scene together with Bruce and the intimacy coordinator. This loosens you both up, having a plan and also know what to expect from this scene, since you literally just wrote „They undress and have sex.“ What a creative script writer you are.

You don‘t know what you expected, but you didn‘t necessarily think that Bruce would be so open and chill about such a scene. During your discussion of boundaries and acceptable touching areas, he seemed like he didn‘t have any problem being touched anywhere, really. It was a little strange at first, but you quickly realised he probably just wants to get over with it. And that made you a little sad. He should be comfortable during the scene, not be annoyed and hoping for it to end quickly, considering filming usually takes a few hours. The co-director and you want some close-ups, wide- hots and midshots in order to edit it together as the best verion of the scene in post. Of course it‘s going to take hours and it‘s important to feel comfortable during the long filming hours together.

But he reassured you after asking him again with that charming smile of his, hating how perfect it looks like. You‘ve seen him on interviews and on the red carpet before, but seeing him smile like that never fails to make you wonder if he is actually real.

Finally, with everything settled and with the modesty garments on, you can finally film the ‚Reuniting Scene‘ with your co-star.

Your movie is about two past lovers who find each other gain after a few years, then getting together again. What a classic. The plot is however more than that. The main character, Bruce, or rather Andy in the movie, is a playboy and billionare with a secret identity. His love interest doesn‘t know this though and just wants to get together with him again, and he is way too naive to get in bed with you almost immediately after one cafe date. Playboy activities.

This means that the scene you are about to play is essential for the movie.

First, you start with wide shots. Easy done, getting a camera set up that follows your movements onto the bed. After getting some shots of Andy passsionately and messily kissing you while guiding you urgently to the bed, you already feel a little worn down. So, time for a break!

During the break, he approaches you to discuss the other stuff in the script.

»Just… how did you get the idea of this plot? I mean, a playboy having a secret identity as a hero? How did you come up with that?«

You didn‘t know he was a secret interviewer as well. But putting your slight surprise aside, you start explaining to him briefly what got you into this idea while trying to keep it as brief as possible. Also without telling him about your initial plan of getting more popular than him... In a way.

All the while he listens to the while you explain, listening intently while nodding along from time to time. Unfortunately, you got a little carried away while explaining him your reasons for the movie, having ended up info dumping on him a little about your researches you did for writing the script, which however made him listen to you even more intently.

»So, I also just watched a lot of videos and documentations about gun handling and missions from former private agents, so I can make this as believeable as possible, but I also feel like I still haven‘t mastered it quite well for now, even though I made sure the props are as realistic as possible and we have a good choregrapher for the fight scenes later on – « You ramble on as you get on set again, settling onto position on the bed while talking his ears off in the meantime. It doesn‘t seem like he minds though, listening to your words, while throwing in some small questions and check-ups as he is hovering above you on the bed.

»Yeah, you can put your hand on my thigh – and I also made sure to actually make the small mission Andy is in will be as realistic and logical as possible, but I‘m also a little unsure if the scenario is actually so realistic as it is…«

»You‘re really determined to get the most realistic movie of the year, huh?« He muses back once you trail off, looking to you once you are both finally in position on bed.

»What? How could you ever think of that?«

You retort sarcastically, not having noticed how much you‘ve been talking until the co-director just calls »Action!« for the cameras to roll and you have to act.

Your breath hitches subtly once you feel his hand ride up your thigh before landing at your collar of your shirt and starts to unbutton it in careful but rushed movements. Again, you have to follow the small choreography you both came up with earlier, your brain working quick to actually follow through and act as if this already feels like heaven. Finally, you get your head together and reach for the back of his neck to connect your lips, getting a small moan from both of you. His hands finally pry your shirt off and he disconnects his lips from you to trail them down your throat towards your chest, a small shiver running down your spine against your will.

You both agreed for him to have the upper hand in this, since he is acting as a playboy, and you‘d be lying if you said he isn‘t quite confident in his role. Your thoughts are quickly thrown away as you feel him press kisses against your temple and down to your jaw while his hands roam over your sides. Mimicing his actions, your hands feel across his lean back and press him further down towards you. A low growl escapes him before he takes your thigh in his hand to push it up against his side.

The scene ends for now, needing to repeat it for a close-up shot. You are actually grateful he has expirience in intimate scenes, not needing to give him any more instructions or tips since he has quite a good knowledge in it already. Repeating the same scene for the next shot was easier, actually having had a little time to prepare instead of being pulled away from your rant about your script. Afterwards, you get another break and take your time to actually collect yourself before continuing with the scenes. Your co-director pulls you to her side for a moment to look over the filmed scenes, not having expected for them to actually look… hot? Well, this is good, actually. It‘s a little strange seeing you on screen like this, but you knew you would need to look over the scenes either way.

Once satisfied, you get back to your spot to sit down and scroll through your phone, distract yourself from the scene you just filmed over and over again, feeling how mush your brain feels right now.

This time, Bruce doesn‘t come around to ask you about the plot and other stuff, probably having had enough of your rant earlier. You really tried to explain it to him briefly, but it ended up in a full ramble session.

Filming the last few scenes were a little difficult to master from the last hours of filming, but time came by faster than you‘d expected and it is time to pack up and leave the set for today.

◐

The filming days actually went by rather fast, and your work relationship grew stronger with Bruce. You had some fun actually acting the scenes out with him, even when the first day was just slightly awkward between you two. Currently, you are neck deep in a book, annotating the pages at the side with a red fineliner during your break. The colour matches the book cover. Bruce walks by and the book in your hand catches his attention. Reading the title, he immediately recognises it and steps up to you.

»My son loves this book.« You finally look up from the words on the page and lock eyes with him, being slightly surprised by it.

»Which son?« You ask slowly, being unsure if this question was offensive or not, even though he showed his rather dark humour early on and doesn‘t seem to be hardly offended by something ever. He huffs out lightly amused and answers your question without missing a beat.

»Jason. My second son. He is a big bookworm, I think he read more classics than school textbooks.«

»Well, he isn‘t the only one.« He smiles lightly at that and takes a seat besidde you, his cup of coffee still in hand.

»So, you‘re a bookworm? Or just to pass time?«

Honestly, you haven‘t exactly expected for him to strike up a conversation with you that seems to be genuine at that as well. The first talk he started with you was just about the script anyway and it was more to clear up his curiousness and slight confusion. This actually feels like he wants to talk to you and get to know you.

»I read quite often. At least when I have time, like now.«

You answer him and close your book, setting it on your lap before clasping your hands over it. Bruce takes your answer in, asking another question.

»And you annotate? What exactly do you write down?« That question throws you a bit off guard, trying to answer him without sounding like a total loser.

»Uhm… usually just my thoughts. And sometimes I analyse sentences, if I feel like it.«

Finally, Bruce seems to be a little impressed. Or maybe he is just good at acting surprised, which you wouldn‘t doubt he is doing right now.

»Really? So, you usually just leave simple comments or thoughts? That‘s actually pretty nice, but I wouldn‘t have the energy to do so.«

You manage a small chuckle at his words, not sure if you should be flustered or not. Was that even a compliment?

»Oh, I get it. Can‘t have much time to yourself with this job.«

He lets out a small laugh as well and nods in agreement, fidgeting with his coffee cup in his hands a little.

The conversation pauses briefly, Bruce speaking up again and looking towards you.

»Would you like to go out and get some coffee some time? Get a break from all this, wouldn‘t hurt right?«

Without much thinking you agree on it and set up a date for it, only later realising it sounded a little suspicius. Even if it was just a little suspicious, you won‘t let that go in your mind. He basically just asked you out. And typically enough, you didn‘t even notice it or gave it a second thought until later when he left again.

Was this genuine or was it just method acting? This would be a little too much for method acting, no? Maybe. Does this concern you even more? Yes.

Getting off the break, you continue to film the second act of the movie, already feeling like this will actually pay out in the end.

It doesn‘t really seem like he is method acting, more like acting out the scenes like a normal actor after practicing his lines thoroughly, and being confident in his performance. Besides, method acting has nothing to do with him asking you out. Method acting, also known as ‚The Method‘ is a form of rehearsal where the actors tries to understand his character and analyses their emotions in order to act it out as accurate as possible and to show the audience the depth of the character. While it is mostly common used for theater, it‘s also common to use it for film.

You are really trying to figure Bruce out. In past interviews he was nothing but charming and polite, strictly polite even, but on set he is no different. It‘s strange, most actors you‘ve worked with were at least a little chaotic and different on set, but not him. You hate to say it, but he is not like others. He has something more to him. A certain charm and touch you can‘t quite put a finger on yet. And being with him almost every day because of work is giving you the opportunity to check on it and find it out, but he is hard to reach as well. It‘s not like he is hard to talk to, it‘s quite the opposite. But your conversations have never been more than mere small talk and discussions about the script, that usually ends up with you rambling off about it. So, you are frustrated.

Eventually, you help the crew and technicians with putting the stuff away for today, knowing you shouldn‘t do it, but you can‘t just leave the studio without helping them with the rest.

Bruce catches you however and snatches the heavy camera from you so he can put it in its case without your back breaking halfway.

»Oh, you don‘t need to, I can- «

»None of that. You already work so much, it‘s only fair when someone helps you out. Besides, I like helping people.«

He ignores your words and just smiles softly, as he puts the camera gently into its case, it seeming as if it doesn‘t weight anything in his arms. The he handled it with such ease really hurts your ego a bit, but also makes you wonder what his workout routine is. Because there is no way he just didn‘t break out a sweat while doing that. Unlike you.

»We don‘t want to miss out on our small date, right? Or did you forget already?«

You don‘t see it but Bruce is ready to be rejected and made fun of with how surprised you look at him. But truth is, you really just forgot about the arranged meeting you both settled on earlier in lunch break, because of all the things you had to do today.

»No, sure we‘re still going out. I just… kind of, forgot about it, but I didn‘t! I mean, I just, uh… let‘s just go, okay?«

You tag him along to the exit and he leads you to the café he mentioned earlier, it seeming already cosy enough from the outside. He opens the door for you before choosing a place to sit at and goes to the counter to order you both a warm drink. He sits down across from you at the table again and just looks at you with a small but noticeable smile. It is quiet for a moment before he speaks up.

»What kind of books do you read again? Or any other hobbies you have?«

Is he really trying to just befriend you or are you just another hopeless case of delusional? Quickly putting those thought aside, you answer him and make it short this time. No rambling now. Once he finds out about your passion for thriller, he perks up and shares his own few favourites about thriller and detective stories. Although he tends to love real biographies and real incidents, there is a mutual interest for those gernes in books.

»It‘s a good thing we have something in common. But I‘ve never tried annotating books before like you do. Is it fun?«

You shrug lightly in response, answering him after a brief moment.

»Depends on the person, but I really enjoy doing that. I like reading through stuff and write down my own thoughts. I also underline sentences and just… use the book. I didn‘t buy it for nothing, right?«

He nods lightly to your words, probably not used to someone using a book to actually write in it just for fun. Most people see it as a crime to doodle into the pages fo your book, but you take pride in it.

»Could I borrow one of your books? Especially one that you wrote in already.«

The suggestion takes you by surprise, but who are you to say no to that? Of course you nod without thinking too much about it, already thinking about which book you will lend him.

»Sure, I‘ll lend you one! I‘ve waited so long for someone to ask me this, what book do you want? I can also just take the book I read today. I have read it over three times anyway.«

Now Bruce is slightly surprised but also glad you agreed to this so easily. He nods slightly, not wasting time on responding to you.

»Animal Farm? Sure, that sounds good.«

Even when the novella isn‘t a thriller or detective, he is still willing to read it just to get to know you even more and read through those silly comments on the sides. Reaching over, you hand him the book which he puts safely into his own bag before the conversation continues between you both and you end up chatting about other stuff as well and enjoy your coffee while talking. You don‘t even realise how much time goes by before the staff in the shop are slowly getting ready to close it, cleaning around and making sure you both don‘t want to order anything anymore. That‘s also when you see how dark it is outside, getting out of the shop with him and walk down the dimly lit streets side-by-side.

Once you are both back at the parking lot, he walks you to your car, making sure you won‘t get kidnapped.

»You know, we could read together in my library some time. If that would be okay.«

That thought put a smile onto your facce but you quickly mask it, not wanting to come off as too excited.

»We could, at least I won‘t mind. I don‘t want to be a bother in your home or anything.«

You respond, still trying to be polite but he seems to destroy it with shaking his head.

»You won‘t be, promise. I‘m sure Damian won‘t mind, and all my other kids only visit occasionally now.« Bruce reassures you, smiling a little at you as he stands before you, waiting for your response. Sighing out you give in, agreeing to the invitation.

»Fine. We can meet up some day to read. I‘m sure I‘ll have time in about a week.« Bruce nods and feels glad you will make some time for him to hang out again. Reading together in comfortable silence? There is nothing better in Bruce‘s mind.

◐

The silence is filled with tension while Andy is standing tall, still with his suit and pistol in hand. His lover is standing right in front of him, a look of horror on their face that makes his chest shred into pieces.

»I can explain...« Andy carefully starts and puts the safety on in his gun before placing it onto the table beside him.

»First you are some kind of playboy, now you are… a murderer?! Who are you really, Andy?«

His lover demands, voice trembling lightly as the tension only rises and rises more between them. With a small step, he tries to get closer and make sure his partner isn‘t freaking out totally.

»I am not a murderer, Bell… I‘m...« There‘s a dramatic pause before he continues, taking a deep breath.

»I am Strong Guy.«

Bruce is doing his best not to laugh at his superhero name from the script, clenching his jaw and keeping up his tense glare, waiting for you to say your next line. Even his damn children tease and make of him for accepting such role, but that‘s not really a surprise.It‘s only a matter of time when he will finally crack up, having warned you prior already.

»No way. You… can‘t be. How is that possible? But Strong Guy is basically from space, right? What… have I been dating an alien the whole time?«

You are in complete shock and disbelief. At least trying to seem like it. When you wrote the script, you really had to hold yourself back from writing a better scene than this. But Hollywood is demanding and only wants to please the poor viewers who are seeing the same movie over and over again, but in a different fond every year. At least the Writer‘s Strike is almost over and other, more legendary directors can direct more original and creative movies… well, depends if the WGA and other people responsible for that will actually care about anything other than money.

»Babe, believe me, I am still me. The Andy you know from high school and the same one you fell for all those years back.« Strong Guy, Andy, uses a softer tone with you now and looks genuinely desperate not to lose his partner because of his secret identity.

Your character isn‘t strong for that matter and gives in after a few more weak attempts of arguing, before the tension eases up and you both hug each other tightly, whispering sweet nothings against the other.

Once the scene ends, you have to repeat for another four times to get it in every angle and make sure you get the best takes. By the time that‘s finished, Bruce can already feel how drained he is after the dramatic and less than poorly written scene. Don‘t get him wrong, he likes the way you tell the story, but the dialoge couldn‘t be any more cheesy and… over-cliché in his opinion. Not that he would that say to your face.

Malva approaches you with a glass of water in hand, offering it to you to cool your mind after the rather intense scene.

»I‘m counting the days, you know? When you and him become… a thing?«

She elbows your side playfully, making you almost spill your water and choke on the sip you just took.

»Mal, what the fuck!«

»Fuck! Yes, when is that going to happen?« She inquires and awaits your answer curiously, seeming dead-serious. But you know her better than that. She is most likely just teasing and tries to force another crush on you yet again.

»I‘m not going to answer the question. We barely know each other.« You mumble back finally and sip on you glass of water in attempt to hide your tiny smile, glancing towards Bruce to make sure he isn‘t secretly eavesdropping on you two.

»Look, I‘m just trying to be honest. The way he looks at you? You can‘t tell me you haven‘t noticed. He is, like… so expressive with his eyes and so dreamy...« Malva trails off and sighs out softly, making you cringe lightly beside her.

You hush her quickly once the man you are both fussing over walks by, exhaling wearily and speak to your best friend again.

»Okay, I may have lend him one of my annotated books and he probably invited me to his library to read together. Next week, or something.«

Her jaw falls almost literally to the floor as she listens to you, in disbelief and is actually speecheless for a second.

»Oh, you have to tell me about how it went! You two already look so good together on set, I can‘t imagine — « You cut her off quickly by pressing your palm against her lips, embarrassed and also noticing Bruce being dangerously near your area.

This is going to be a hell of filming and hang outs in the next few months…

◐

You knew his house was big, but… you nearly want to throw up at how big and pretty it is. If there‘s thing you can compliment him, is that he has good taste in almost everything besides coffee. What sane person likes their coffee completely black and plain?

Walking up to the big double door, you ring the bell and wait patiently. Your wait doesn‘t last long as one of the doors swings open and a rather small boy greets you with a judgemental look. That‘s surely one of his sons. Jason, probably? No, he is too old to look this young…

»Hey there. I‘m here to meet Bruce, is he here?« You greet as polite and friendly as possible, always having managed to scare off children without meaning to. Or at least babies.

»Father should be inside.«

Politely enough, the boy steps aside and lets you enter, watching you intently as you take the interior in.

Feeling a little awkward, you decide to ask. »What‘s your name, by the way?«

He narrows his eyes at you and crosses his arms, answering your questioin that was meant to be polite.

»You are not worth it to know my na —«

»Damian! I‘m sure you showed her around a little and were polite, weren‘t you?«

Bruce hurries down the stairs and approaches you both, seeming only slightly tense as he awaits his son‘s answer, running his hand through his hair.

»Of course, father...«

Damian scoffs lightly and averts his eyes away from you to the floor, seeing some similarities between him and Bruce.

The older man smiles and steps beside you, eventually paying his attention back to you.

»Sorry, this is Damian. My youngest.« He finally introduces and gestures to his son in front of you, taking him in again and nod slightly. Damian is doing a poor job in hiding his displeasure on meeting you, grumbling something under his breath as he gives you a sharp side-glance.

»Alfred said he needs some help in the garden, why don‘t you join him?« Bruce uses the code word they settled on in case Damian should be somewhere that he isn‘t welcome to and gets the message, making his way outside to the backyard.

You watch him wander off in a rather moody demeanor, feeling Bruce‘s warm hand settle between your shoulderblades.

»I hope he wasn‘t a bother while I was gone. He can get… pretty angsty at times.«

He apologises but you quickly wave it off, actually being quite amused and not bothered at all.

»No, I get it. I was just as grumpy and annoyed when I was younger, I don‘t blame him.« At your words, he raises an eyebrow while leading up ustairs with him, walking to his library.

»That‘s interesting. I could never imagine you as a grumpy teenager though, what were you like? Also throwing a tantrum for not receiving the latest comic book?«

He teases lightly but also refers to one of his kids when they were a little younger and spoiled, all to his fault.

»No, I was more of a… rebellious kind? I hated it when people wouldn‘t take me seriously and protested a lot. Over the right stuff, though! Maybe you could call it a punk phase, but I really just wanted to be taken seriously and be understood, you know?«

Bruce listened to you explain while entering the library after passing the hallway, looking to you once again with a fond expression.

»You and I may have more common in that sense, then. I also tried to prove myself to others and threw myself into… some situations. But all for the right reasons, right?«

Maybe Malva was right. You should hurry up and claim this man for yourself.

Snapping your gaze away from him, you take in the big library you are both in, it being a spacious room with tall shelfs, full with books that go up the ceiling, and some couches around in the middle to lounge on. You genuinenly haven‘t expected for him to have this whole area as a library that‘s actually filled with so many books, being literally surrounded by them.

»So? Have you got a book to read? If not, you can always lend one from here.«

He claps his hands once and walks to one of the larger couches before sitting down on it, the book you gave him from your earlier hang out in his hands.

»Oh, I came prepared, I have my own book with me.«

You answer back and take a seat beside him on the couch, taking out the book from your bag as you lean back and start to read where you left off.

He shares his last glance at you before he foccuses on his book for now, feeling joy at the small comments you left on the sides of almost every page, being content just reading in silence for now while sitting beside you.

Some time passes and you both have read quite a lot over the time-being, itching for a small break. Alfred, his butler apparently, had got you both some warm tea and cookies onto the coffee table in front of you and left after saying his usual polite words.

Tasting the cookies, you have never eaten such delicious and not overly sweet cookies before. You need to steal his recipe later and make them yourself at home. The tea is just as good, still warm and having a comforting effect on you. Bruce speaks up, his body turned more towards you on the couch as he has his arm around the back of the couch, sipping on his cup of tea.

»What do you think of your book so far?« It seems like he always asks these questions on purpose, just to hear you talk his ear off about a random topic. But you answer truthfully anyway, looking to him now as you take a break from munching on those cookies.

»I really love the way Pushkin wrote about his wife in his novels, every female character he inserts seems to be his wife and he won‘t waste any time on sweet talking everything. But his works actually represent a path from Neoclassicism through Romanticism to Realism, or whatever they say, so… I just love how easy his rhymes are in some passages and how obvious that is that he was such a hopeless romantic...«

You glance around the library as you talk, eventually trailing off and checking in to see his reaction. He leaned his head against his fist from his arm that rests on the back of the couch, eyes ever so tender and nonjudgemental. Almost loving.

»You okay?« You ask finally, unsure because of his quiet demeanor and how he just stares at you. How long has he been staring for?

»Yeah. Just wondering if you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense.«

Now you feel offended, no matter how much he‘s flirting with you right now.

»Nonsense? I think you just lost your mind, I never talk nonsense, especially not about my favourite writer.«

Bruce can‘t help but smile at that, glad you didn‘t react badly to what he just blurted out without actually meaning to.

»I‘m sure everything you say is logical and accurate, but I —«

»Oh, so you weren‘t listening the whole time? Why do you even bother asking me about those —«

This time, you are the one getting interrupted and he puts a gentle hand onto your knee to try and soothe you.

»Because I love the sound of your voice.«

Oh, you froze. Bruce is panicking, he never thought he would be so straightforward with his feelings towards you, but something about you just lets him let loose and be himself. It‘s almost scaring him.

But you didn‘t freeze because you were startled or shocked, but because you never expected for him to compliment you in such a genuine and nice way. And his hand on your knee is only making your case worse. As he is about to get his hand back to himself, you move closer to him and hug him as tightly as you can. Bruce stumbles slightly back into the couch because of the force of your hug, but doesn‘t waste any time on hugging you back. He is instantly relieved at your reaction, letting himself melt into the hug and rub your back lightly in return.

»Not good at taking compliments?«

You scoff at his teasing comment, leaning a little off of him to look into his eyes again.

»At least I don‘t tell people they talk ‚nonsense‘ just to compliment them later.« He rolls his eyes at your light jab, loosening his grip around you as he is unsure if you want to stay in the hug for longer or not. When you don‘t let go, he decides to follow your lead and just let you stay half on top of him with your arms wrapped around his neck. It could come off as friendly cuddling, almost, but there seems to be still some light tension between the two of you.

The fact that Bruce has invited you to his Manor to simply read together says a lot. It is well known to the media that he hasn‘t really been in a relationship, and that he doesn‘t go around dating or hooking up usually. Bruce Wayne is mostly a mysterious person to the media, talking and responding politely and patiently to the interviewers or reporters, letting his guard down only rarely among other people he doesn‘t really know.

Working together with him has shown you that he can warm up to people, especially when they share interests or just seem good-hearted. Like you.

You have shown him how coorperative and kind you are to all your staff and co-actors, he has seen some of your interviews as well. Being kind and bringing a positive message is important for you, and you‘ve made sure to show it. Either through films or other actions, you managed to let Bruce believe there is still good in this world and genuine people. You aren‘t full of money, your beliefs are similar to his in that sense.

He hasn‘t realised it yet, but his hand traces mindless circles around your back as you two stay in the hug, your own hand lightly fidgeting with the back of his shirt collar.

As time passes and you two talk about whatever, the evening rolls by quickly and it becomes dark outside, making the atmosphere more relaxing. By the time you two have talked, you both adjusted your position more, his arms still around in a way while your body is laying mostly across his lap with your head resting against his chest. You didn‘t realize how comfortable it would be to lay almost completely on him, and you‘re trying to make it last.

He uses the opportunity to talk more about himself since you didn‘t really get the chance to get to know each other that much with work. Bruce mostly talks about his sons and daughter, describing their personalities as best as he can, telling a few funny stories here and there from their younger years, knowing they would kill him if they would find out he told you about it.

It‘s endearing hearing him talk about his children, listening to him with heart eyes as you stay in his arms, melting against his chest.

His voice smooth and low, a subtle rasp to it while he eyes dart around the room from one spot to the other until they land on you from time to time. He started to play with your hair at some point, twirling some strands around his finger before letting go and starting again, his hands always busy with something.

»Did anyone ever tell you how soothing you are? Like, I never expected for you to be so calm and kind until now. What‘s with the persona for the press?«

He looks down to you and continues to play around with your hair a little, adjusting his hold on you to let you stay comfortable against his chest.

»Everyone has an online persona. Like to stay more private about my stuff.«

He shrugs lightly, letting his arms stay loosely around you. That response makes you smile, leaning up a little.

»Does that mean I‘m special?«

Bruce can‘t help but smirk at that, shifting to make you face him more.

»I guess you are, yes.«

His warm expression makes you contemplate wether or not this has something more to it, if you both just really good friends already or more. The tension in the room seems thicken, especially with how close you both are right now on the couch. The library falls into a comfortable silence again, this time with both of you staring at the other. You study his features, realising how much prettier he is from up close. From this proximity, you can barely make out the faint freckles across his cheeks, making you want to study him more and find out about all the other faint or small features he has, taking pride in seeing such details.

He also focuses on your face, the way your eyes flit around his face and are soft in the warm light of the room. His hand carefully cups your cheek, feeling the soft and warm skin under his palm. Without thinking, you lean into his hand, looking back into his eyes.

It almost feels magical and surreal how close you are to him, realising you are both about to get even closer. Your heart starts to pick up its pace, but you don‘t pull away. Bruce‘s thumb brushes against your cheekbone, his adam‘s apple bobs briefly before he leans in, seeing how willing you are to stay close and closer.

Eventually, your lips meet and it feels better than any cinematic movie could ever potray a romantic scene. The kiss lingers before you break it, but stay close, your noses barely brushing together.

He trails his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, threading his fingers into your hair.

»Please tell me you wanted this just as much as me.« His voice is quite, careful. Warm.

»Genuinely? From the moment you invited me to your library.«

He smiles at your response, freely with his perfect teeth showing. Without further discussion, he presses his lips against yours again, making sure to be gentle, as if he could break you by being too harsh.

You tremble lightly in his arms, too enrupted by the sensation of the soft kisses to care about anything else. Getting the courage, you wrap your arms more around his neck and lean more into him, making him melt from the inside and become weak for you. You could do anything to him and he would happily let you. Is it a little too early to be so trusting? Maybe. Does he care or want to waste this time with you? Fuck no.

He sighs into the kiss and leans back further into the soft couch, making you follow and press yourself further against him. It becomes overwhelming, getting to sit properly on his lap, your hands on either side of his face, his hands resting contently at your thighs. And it happens.

You can‘t help it, you want – need friction from him, and buck your hips against him, earning a low groan from him.

His grip on your thighs tightens, breath starting to get shallow the longer you kiss. At his subtle reactions, you do that again, starting to grind lightly against him, your own breath growing heavier.

Bruce feels his head spin because of you, the way you are so eager to continue, to feel him more and to get more is making him fall even more for you. The fact alone that you are willing to trust him with your body is enough to get him going more, but he hates that you are both in his library at the moment and you are both nothing official yet.

He does what he thinks is logical and wants to be the responsible from the two of you.

His hands grab onto your hips, stopping you from picking up the pace or apply more pressure against him.

»Hey, easy… easy, we have all the time in the world, just...« He sighs out, loosening his grip on your hips once you simply sit on him.

»Did I do something wrong?«

You panic and look him over to see if you hurt him or made him uncomfortable.

»No! No, no, no, you never did anything wrong, I just… I don‘t want this to be our first time.«

As soon as he drops those words, you slump your full weight on him, slightly confused and disappointed.

»I just want you to have something better than having it in my damn library. You deserve more than that. It needs to be special.«

His hands settle on your waist, his hair slightly tousled and face flushed, chest heaving lightly as he catches his breath, but still feels breathless because of you.

You stay quiet for another moment, processing his words. It‘s difficult to do so, that sight in front of you is making you feral but he doesn‘t want to do anything more because… he wants to treat you better?

Now you are really starting to wonder if he is real. There is no way someone would be nice enough to actually stop making out before it escalates, just because he wants to make it special in another time.

»Oh… okay, then. I won‘t force you anyway.«

You shrug lightly, feeling disappointed. But you would hate to force him to something more. Bruce seems glad you agree on it so easily and lets his hands trail up and down your sides more until he sets you down beside him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

»Sorry for cock-blocking you, dear.«

He murmurs into your ear, making you flush and groan, elbowing his side annoyed; all the while he laughs amused.

←MASTERLIST

a/n: let me know what you think about it, hope you enjoyed it!

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #9

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Happy birthday! a late one at that... Warnings: Angst, fluff, bickering.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz

Three months passed, no one except Lucifer, Alastor and Charlie became nervous as time went by. Charlie didn't know what else to do about the contract, it protected you from killing yourself during its validity period, but after that she couldn't do anything to avoid it.

"Charlie, can I ask you a question?" She walked over to the stove, accompanying as you finished checking the meat in the pan. “If…if I happened to make it out alive, but your father were the reason for that, or Alastor, how would you feel about it?” Charlie choked on her water, to put it in a nice way.

“You’re asking me permission to go out with my dad?” she laughed, “Depending how okay are you with it” she snickered, “I mean, it would be weird” she started “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t think I can see you as a step mom” he gave you a playful nudge on your shoulder.

“I don’t plan to play mom with you, I’ve already done it for eight years” you pointed to her bandaged finger you had fixed a few moments before.

“Do you like my dad?” what an interesting question, his advances did in fact made you look forward to spend more time with him, “I’m starting to get fond of him, I want to know if I should push the halt now before it’s too late”.

“And hurt him more than my mom already did? No” she made a pensative face, while the question brew in your stomach, “What if she comes back?” Charlie’s eyes shifted, “I won’t have her back” as a former mother that stung in sympathy for her, as little as that was, “That is what you say now, but I know you, that attitude won’t be there if she stands in front of you” sad but true, you knew her.

“Going back to my father, he’s old enough to decide who he wants to date” you let out a breathy laugh, “I wasn’t asking your permission, I wanted to know how you felt about it, I won’t have my wings broken by you again anyway” she nudged you again.

“If there’s anyone I would know my father would be happy with, you wouldn’t make the first of my list, but you´re there” you made as if there was something piercing your heart, with a stabbing motion of your hand in your chest, “Cold as fuck”.

“You wanted my opinion” she defended herself, “I didn’t say it wasn’t appreciated” you gave her a bite of a stir-fried red pepper, “Y/n, I love you, as friends or an aunt, but I will end what I started when you betrayed me if you hurt him” her horns peeked out of her head, low blow reminding you of how the battle became to be.

“Charlotte, even if he didn’t liked me, I’m ready to fight Jesus fucking Christ for you and this hotel” ‘you and him and Alastor more than anything’ you thought, “Don’t underestimate the growth I had this eight years”.

You plated a portion of the meat, stir-fried veggies and mush potatoes, “You and your dad have the same eating issue, so I’m getting up his dinner after plating for you and the rest” you said as you prepped the plates on a line, “Fun to know the only few things I have in common with my dad are issues” her sarcasm drew a smile on your face.

Her mean/sassy attitude was refreshing after a lot of her sunshine bullshit.

“Also your eyes, the way you hide your feelings from others, your cheeks, that lovely angelic happiness, the way you smile, your theatrics, the list is infinite” you winked at her, “You are his spitting image, the only thing you have from your mother is your hair, the height, and her temper” she groaned a little, “I got my singing from her”.

You hummed a no, “Ezekiel 28:12-13 say how beautiful lucifer was. God created him to be perfect in wisdom and beauty, a spectacle of flawlessness and gave him special capabilities in music and voice, the bible doesn’t lie” she looked at you in awe, “What? He’s proof of everything the darn book says” another blink.

You weren’t a believer until you saw Adam for the first time.

After bidding everyone a good night, you made your way to his room, tray in hand. Charlie warned you to be careful, she had heard some breaking sounds coming from his chambers, she was far too scared of his rage to interfere. Talking of her inner child saying be cautious to her.

"Your highness? You didn't attended dinner, so I brought it to you" you opened the door, the sight unnerved you.

There were rubber ducks that were burned, had their throats cut, were torn to pieces, or even turned to dust. The painting of his wife had claw marks on her face, there were feathers on the ground, his, and other smaller ones that didn't match his colors.

"I'm not hungry" your eyes caught sight of him, sat on the ‘your side of the bed’ facing the window. The light was not working, with the dim light of the city emanating from the window you could see his tattered hair and his wrinkled suit, also a few small drops of shiny golden blood on his arm.

"You have to eat, even if you’re not hungry, Charlie mentioned you didn’t ate much at lunch either” You didn't eat with the rest of the group, for the simple fact that due to your new anatomy you had to eat at least three dishes to be satisfied, and it made you a little embarrassed.

"Say my name" he whispered, his voice low and deeper than his usual, "Excuse me?" you pushed a few things off a table near you to set the tray down.

"It's always my lord or your highness, never my name, say it" his red stare chilled your blood, "Why is it so important?" you swallowed a huge lump to say that, "Then I'm not eating until you say it" he crossed his arms.

"You're being a child” in a matter of second he was inches away from your face, “And you secretive, since when? Have I gave you a reason to not say things to me?" his distorted voice thundered, flinching was so hard to avoid, "No" you bite your own tongue, "Then please, address me by my name" a few flames came out of his mouth.

"I don't negotiate with children throwing a tantrum" you walked around him, trying your best to shake off the sight of his angry face, printed in your mind.

"Why is it so hard to say?" He muttered, "And it's not a tantrum" you chuckled, "Sure it is" you accidentally stepped on a head of a former duck.

"You've still haven't answered, why is it so hard for you to say my name" you didn't had time to answer when his wings carried him to you again,  "Do you fear me?" Your visible flinching giving his demonic form made his eyes widen, immediately shifting back to his simple self.

"You do fear me, wow, I don't... this is new" he plopped against the bed, feeling sad and heavy. "You know? After being almost skin to skin with you, I thought there was a level of trust" your pride stung, "I do trust you" you were going to say that because he is stronger than you, there was some caution in your way of being, but he then said, "But you fear me" "Maybe? Maybe I just respect you" "Oh cut the crap".

"You do that, what the hell happened here?" With a heavy sigh he pointed to an open envelope on the other corner of the room, "Lilith wrote, I thought it was to let us know if she was coming back but there were paperwork" Taking out the first sheet you read divorce agreement, the mess made sense now.

"She could've told me this herself but NO, she sends a cherub to give me the papers already signed" Poor messenger, "She has been in heaven this whole time?" His horns erupted from his head, "I KNOW, RIGHT? Of all the places she could go to" noticing how you took a step back he put in his best efforts to relax again, or as much as possible.

"I already sign them, if I seal the envelope it will be sent back to heaven to processing" You walked to sat by his side, "You want to do this?" He looked up to your face, "I can't force her if she doesn't want to be with me" He waived his left hand, the envelope then flew out your hand to seal itself and in a second it disappeared with a bright white light.

"Give me your hand" he knew which one, so he did, you slid his ring off gently, then kissed his released finger, "Think about it as a chapter of a book, now you inevitably have to pass to the next page" your free hand left the ring on your thigh and went to clean a tear going down his eye.

"Otherwise how you're supposed to know what lies ahead?" He pressed his cheek against your hand, "It hurts" his broken voice sent a needle like pain on your heart, "Mourn this love, you tried your best".

He let out a broken sob, tears streaming down his face.

He remembered how happy he felt when he proposed to her and she said yes, how elated he felt when Charlie's birth took place, and all of his wife's love was true and present. Seven years of sleeping in a bed with an empty space that no longer had his presence or her scent. After the second year he didn't even use her anymore, the memory of when she was happy hurt him a lot.

Now, the cold he felt was erased, you were there to console him. He Intertwined his fingers with yours without taking your hand from his face.

"You've still haven't answered my question, why while being so close I feel you so far away?" You thought about it for a moment, "Sorry Luci, I initially wanted to keep you at arm’s length" he took the ring off your thigh, making it go away.

"I figured, it hurt" there was a slight flash of red in his eyes, "Sorry" he shook his head, standing up "Don't sweat it ducky" breaking the somber angsty moment, you laughed, "Why the laugh?" His smile returned to his face, "Ducky is also slang from my time, means that something is very good", he chuckled at that, he had meant it as a nickname.

"Speaking of very good things, Charlie spilled the beans of forgetting somebody's birthday, it was a few months ago" he had a sing-song tone in the word somebody,  "Oh fuck, tell me she's not putting up balloons" he laughed in your face as he added "And serpentines".

You groaned, falling onto the bed, "I'm in hell".

"Since we already missed it, but tomorrow there will be a celebration, and we are close to the witching hour, I wanted to give you something first" he walked to his side of the bed, taking a red box from under it, "You got me a gift?" He placed the box next near as you sat on the bed.

After taking the lid off, the little girl that lived off hurt and grief awoke from deep within you, a yellow duck plushie sat at the bottom of the box, huggable size.

"Go to bed! You lying, no way!" Your voice took a higher tone as you took the stuffed animal out of the box.

"A plushie, how did you knew?!" You hugged the animal, "You told me, that time you came back drunk" your happiness didn't go away buy you did halted for a second, "What else did I told you? I can be a huge blabbermouth" Indeed you were.

"Your contract with Charlie, and what is about to happen...to you" you took a deep breath, "Oh shit, well I really love this, thank you" what is done is done, you couldn't change the past.

"I'm glad, I thought I made it too fluffy" after he told you he made it for you, the purring started, Lucifer slid on the bed to hear you better, "Oh there's my reward" flushed you hid your face in the plushie, "It ain't that cute" in response he lightly pinched your face, "It's adorable".

"Thank you, Luci" one of his hands took yours, lightly rubbing his thumb on your skin, "Happy birthday Y/n, you don't look a day over 120" he winked, "You were off by twenty years" his bright eyes held so much pain and happiness at the same time, "You also told me to remind you of something" he pushed the plushie down, setting it aside, "Of what?".

In a blink his lips captured yours, gently making pressure as he moved, his hand went from the bed to your cheek. The surprise made you hesitate for a second, your shaky arms passed his shoulders, hugging him closer, making him smile on your lips.

It made you laugh how he took a bit of leverage on you by sitting on your thighs, straddling your hips.

"That" he teased, "Now that was familiar" your hands felt his back, admiring the position, "How much do you remember?" You remembered most things, but you liked to mess with him.

"Bits and bits" he lowered to your cheek, placing a chaste kiss, "Say my name" he whispered, "Is it a kink for you?"  You gasped, his kiss landed on your neck next, "Say it" he moved again, his eyes on yours as you said it, "Lucifer".

His name rolling down your mouth made him crazy. Kissing you again, he felt like making it a little more intense, he pressed your body against the bed towering over you, his tail taking hold of your thigh.

His tongue licked the rim of your lip, asking for permission, "My tongue feels like sandpaper, like a cat" You shook your head, he smiled while snapping his fingers, then your tongue was smooth as normal, "May I now?" You nodded, his lips attaching to yours, finding a small gap to introduce his forked tongue into your mouth.

With one hand he leveled himself over you, while the other snaked his way to the back of your head, pressing you against him.

A small whine called his attention, he wanted to check on you, but when he separated a bit you brought him back, pushing yourself upwards and hugging his back with your arms. He hummed in delight, seeing that he was corresponded.

He made noises of his own, sighing when you took gentle fistfuls of his golden locks into your hands, those sent electric pulses down your core.

After a while, you stopped, pressed your forehead against his.

"You make me so confused" You whispered,  "How so?" Though your hands on his shoulders, you could almost feel his heart beat, "I do feel scared, but in the middle of the day I think about coming back here, with you, and it excites me", and the thing that makes you scared is to lose the warmth again.

Giddy as he could feel, he smiled, "Well I do make a hell of a cuddle buddy". Laugh, that was all you could do. The lights on his room went on again, making the disaster look less worse than you thought.

"Now that you're single, I'm sure Angel can help you out if you would like to get out there again, the lady demons will eat you up with a smile" a direct stab to his heart, one that brushed off with a smile.

"I'm sure they would, but I'm pretty comfortable with you" there was no way he meant it, or was it? "While you look for a partner right?" He shook his head, "Stay...with me" why would he say that? Is already the second time he made that proposal.

"What if you get bored of me?" Worried, he noticed you were, "We sleep on separate beds until we miss each other"  it was his turn to have his hands on your face, brushing off strands of hair, "I'm damaged" he smiled, "So am I, we have so much in common" how he could be so happy when you were so hesitant?

"I have issues and quirks and weirdness" how he could be so loving with you? He just lost his wife forever maybe, "I have depression, I'm weird and have a lot of energy, I may exhaust you one day" the sad look he gave you despite his smile torn apart something deep within you, "You could never" pressing a kiss against his temple made him hum happily, "I don't know if I'm ready for a commitment" you confessed, specially having your heart divided.

"Then, may I court you?" imagine a light, but instead of coming off his body only, it enlightened the whole room with an angelic hue, that’s how exited (nervous), he was. "We could go out, get to know each other, maybe seal the deal if I convince you" he said ever so sly, adding a bit of seduction to the mix, his charm was irresistible, "Okay, but if Charlie asks, it was your idea, I really don't want my horns pulled off again".

"You had horns?" he touched your forehead to try to find any reminiscent of horns, he was confused because he didn’t even found a scar, his eyes flashed a red hue again for a second, then he understood, he was able to see the colorful rim of your seal that kept your real self, hidden away.

He stood up and moved away, his magic aiding him to clean the mess he had done. Afterwards you ordered him to eat his dinner, the one that was kept decently warm under the silver lid. He took a few glances off the food to see you hugging the stuffed animal close to your heart.

How to explain what he was seeing? You, your eyes so lit with a joy that had been taken from you and denied for so long. You held the little animal so close to your heart, your knuckles forcibly white, as if you were afraid that at any moment someone was going to take it away from you.

He saw a girl, the girl that maybe you once were. A happy little girl with a birthday gift that she promises to always use until she wears it out, and maybe love it even if it is in tatters.

"How are you liking the plushie?" he finished eating, making his way to you, "I think he will take your place tonight" he gasped, acting offended, "What? I'm better than a plushie, I come with hugs".

"This might sound weird, because it is, but tomorrow morning, would it be possible for me to brush your hair?" Lucifer couldn’t avoid blushing, his surprise alarming you a little, "It's something I saw some people do for others, I just, okay it's stupid" he smiled, "A couples thing" you nodded, closing your eyes as you saw his face getting closer and closer, until he placed a peck on your nose, "I would love to".

You left a few minutes to eat your portion of dinner, then when you returned, Lucifer was in the middle of the room, only in his brief, short black boxers that made his ass tight.

"Oh hey, I come in the wrong time" you laughed, closing the door and facing it as fast as lighting,  "You're too cute for my health" he laughed, his hoofed feet sounding closer and closer to you, "Look, nothing out of the ordinary" he turned you around, both hands on your hips, your back against the door.

Another set of scars making his sides look greyish, burned patches, by the look on your eyes he couldn’t make out if you wanted to ask about them, kill the person who did them, (not that you could really), or do the crying instead of him.

“Don't mind those” since his hands were already on your hips, he took on the opportunity to hug you, “You know? you asked me why I was bothered with things so earth bound" you bump your head against the door, "Me and my big mouth" his tail went around your leg.

"You should speak your mind more often, also, just so you know, I don’t want you to show me if you don’t want to, but I can see the spell surrounding you" ‘Again, I hate the way you see through me’ you thought, making the spell go away at will for the first time, because the other one was because of anger reasons.

"Alastor saw me like this, I couldn't tell if he was scared or disgusted" he chuckled, "For his own sake, he better not say a fucking insult your way" If he could purr he would, especially taking in your entire appearance at once. Broken brown horns, your wings dragging on the ground, the connection between your back and the bone was clearly loose and broken, you also had several spaces without fur, old brown marks that made his heart cry.

You decided to break the focus the king was on your skin, for two reasons the silence was giving you psychosis and at the rate he was going you would end up biting him, and not in a non-sexy way.  

"Hey Luci, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he took his cheek off your stomach and frowned in surprise, "Uhm yes, why?", you tried not to laugh in anticipation giving the stupidity you were about to say, "Because your beauty is angelical" but the punchline made you lose it, literally laughing your ass off while he pinched his nose trying to hold his own chuckle.

The next morning, something that came to you like second nature was waking up next to Lucifer. You usually had him hugged your waist like those little parasitic fish that hang from the skin of sharks, except that he was one of the good little fish, or rather a little duck that has a very bad awakening.

If you have seen a Polish chicken and the crazy hairstyle they have, then you can get an idea of what Luci looked like in the mornings.

You'd wake him with a few gentle caresses on his cheek, then watch him join you in the bathroom, heavy eyelids and sharp teeth showing from how much he yawned. For him, having you comb his hair was another level of intimacy that went beyond sex, due to his height his head was at the height of your breasts, he was perfectly fine using you as a pillow while you fixed the pompadour that he liked to wear every day.

He enjoying himself while you were fighting with a lock of hair as proud as him that did not want to fall in line under the hairspray.

Both already dressed, just like the demon on the radio (but don't tell him) Lucifer left his bowtie untied just for you to fix it, the occasional brush strokes of your fingers against his neck getting to puff up his feathers.

Internally you wanted to die, or run away. Charlie is very good at making up for shit she screws up, and forgetting your birthday wasn't necessarily an action that would hurt you, to be honest, since you hadn't celebrated it in a long time, simply no one, not even you, remembered it.

Even the bar had balloons and serpentines, the amount of confetti that came out of the sides of the stairs when you came down was so much that you would be spitting out pieces of colorful paper from now until the anniversary of the deal between you and her.

"Happy belated birthday" here and there, there was even cake, but Nifty had baked it so for safety's sake you didn't take a bite of it, no one in fact. Everyone swore they saw something moving inside the cake.

You and Lucifer agreed to go out that night, Alastor seeing this couldn't help but feel like something was slipping through his fingers. Almost as if he had the deer on the edge of the nose of his rifle and his trigger jammed.

"You look so beautiful, dear, ready for a second part of the celebrations?" ever so harshly he tried to get you away from Lucifer as he could, “Actually, Bambi, she and I will be going out right now” If the king's mocking smile wasn't enough of a kick in the guts for Alastor, the nickname made his blood boil.

“Isn’t it unfair to snatch the birthday girl on her day?” Him and Luci were starting to het dangerously close, “Belated day” you tried to add, “Not that you knew either” lucifer smiled, the air getting thick. “Guys?” you tried again, no reaction, “Big bad Bambi is going to stop me from treating her to a nice evening?” Lucifer bared his fangs to the deer demon, but far from make him retreat, he encouraged him so, the dials in Alastor’s eyes turning a furious shade of red.

“I could offer her something better” the king snorted in response, “Voodoo doll making and killing don’t make much of a date, you know?” the bickering went on like that until Alastor pushed a limit, “How about you go beg your wife for some sympathy instead?” now before Lucifer could utter a single word you put yourself in between them.  

“Alastor, enough” he had to blink a few times to acknowledge you in the middle, “I think I have the right to spend my days however I want, do I not?” he growled a ‘Yes’, “Then we’ll have a drink in your studio once I’m back, how about it?” now it was that or making you angry enough to ignore him again, “Fine”.

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Part 10

Stay tuned :3

[dc-marvel-life]

You Are My Family Now

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha is dating someone that the team does not like and tries to get Natasha together with Bruce.

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: This is for @waltermis. I saw that you looking for a story like this, and I love the idea so much I made it. Lisichka - little fox, I found this online so I am not 100% sure if it means little fox.

Warnings: The team is mean

You are an ex-assassin/spy for hire who was awfully good at her job. Your biggest enemy was the Avengers, but they never were about to spot you. You caused many injuries and near-death experiences for them, so you were on their naughty list. 

No one in the world was able to get close enough to catch you, well no one but Natasha Romanoff. You also have a soft spot for you. You could never pinpoint exactly why but you had the biggest crush on her. It was the way her body moved against you. It was always a dance between you too, but you always got away. You couldn’t tell if you were just that skilled or she let you go on purpose. 

You thought that she liked the cat and mouse game that you both played just as much as you do. It was also the way she talked to you. No matter what the situation is or what you said, she always had a sassy comeback that made your heart skip a beat. 

— 

It all changed one night in Paris. You were working a job where you needed to take out a mob boss who was staying at a hotel nearby. You were just about to walk up and take him out when Natasha came out of nowhere and stopped you. 

A fight ensued and you got badly injured. You couldn’t finish the mission with how bad the wound was. You needed to get to your safe house immediately and take care of the wound before you bleed out. You somehow managed to get to your safe house alive, but you weren’t alone. Natasha was able to follow you back.

“Looks like you got sloppy there Silver Fox,” Natasha says once she enters your safe house with a gun in hand. You smile at the way she says your code name. She says it with so much lust behind it. This time you couldn’t say anything smart back at her because you were bleeding to death.

Natasha looked at you and saw that you were in real pain. You are lying on the floor with your hand on the wound trying to put pressure on it but slowly losing it. Just like you, Natasha had a soft for you too. Natasha puts down her gun and treats your wound. Once she finishes patching you up, she puts you in the bed and finds some food and water for you.

“Don’t scare me like that again Fox” Natasha says handing you water.

“Wouldn’t plan on it. Then who would you track across the whole world to see” you say taking the water.

“By the way, my name is Y/N,” you say realizing that you never knew each other names. Just code names Black Widow and Silver Fox.

“My name is Natasha. It is nice to finally meet you” Natasha says with a small smile. You both stare at each other’s eyes then something clicks. You both lean in for a kiss that feels like it lasted for hours. That night you both made love in that safe house until the sun came up. 

— 

That became your guys' routine for a few years. You guys will find each other then find a hotel or safe house to make love all night and leave in the morning. During the years that you both have been hooking up with each other, you started to fall in love with Natasha. After you guys finished, you would talk about everything. She told you about the Red Room and how she lost her sister. You told her about your backstory and why you are an assassin/spy. 

You wanted to do better for Natasha, so you slowly started to take fewer and fewer jobs until you were completely out. Natasha was able to track you down in Jamaica. Once she got there, you told her that you were about of the game and wanted to do right by her. Natasha was so happy to hear it and officially asked you to be her girlfriend. 

You said yes and you guys spent a week in Jamaica. Natasha didn’t know that you planned for this whole week. It was the best time of your life. 

A month later, Natasha told the team that you guys were together and they weren’t happy about it. You have caused so much damage to the team over the years and it can’t be fixed anytime soon. 

You understood and asked for a chance. The team didn’t want to give you a chance, but Fury wanted to keep your talents so he let you on the team with pushback. 

You were happy that you could actually do some good in the world and be near your girlfriend. After a few months of staying there, you and Natasha moved into the same room together. Everything was going great with you two.

— 

Now you are on a solo mission while the team is at the compound having a chill night drinking, playing games, and watching movies.

Natasha is drinking with the rest of the team but she is waiting for you to be back. You told her tonight when you come back you are going to cook her a nice meal to celebrate each other. So Natasha is trying not to drink too much unlike her teammates who are drunk right now. 

“You know Nat, you shouldn’t be dating Gold Fox,” Tony says slurring his words.

“It is Silver Fox and she has a name,” Natasha says defensively.

“Look what we are trying to say that she isn’t good for you. Why not date Bruce? He is a better fit for you” Wanda says to her best friend. Natasha rolls her eyes at the thought of it. She only wants to be with you. It was no secret that Bruce has a crush on Natasha and everyone is for it but you and Natasha. 

“No, I am in a happy relationship” Natasha bites back at her team. 

“How about you kiss to see? You may never know. Now kiss” Tony says and the whole team starts to chant ‘kiss’.

“Hell no!” Natasha says but now Bruce is drunk and has some confidence. He comes over to where Natasha is and pulls her into a kiss with the team cheering. 

Then you hear a loud bang. The team turns around to see you standing there with bags of groceries. You drop the bags and leave the compound.

“Look at what you guys did” Natasha gets up to try and catch you but you are long gone. Natasha sighs and starts to pick up the bags that you dropped. Natasha let out a sigh because she was looking forward to dinner. You always made her the best food and she wanted a night alone with you. You've both been on missions back to back and needed it. 

Natasha picks up the bags and sees a small box. She opens the box to see a beautiful engagement ring. It is the ring that Natasha has been describing you for months now. 

“You guys are all dicks!” Natasha screams and takes off to the landing bay. She knew exactly where you were going. The safe house in Paris.

Natasha takes a small jet and goes to you. She gets to the safe house and sees you on the bed in a ball crying while holding a picture of you two on your first date. 

“Lisichka” Natasha comes over to you and holds you tight. She wipes away your tears.

“Why would you do it” you say in a small voice.

“Lisichka, it didn’t happen that way. The whole team was drunk and wanted me to kiss Bruce. I said no and he came up and grabbed me. He kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him. These lips are only for you” Natasha kisses your cheek. You turn around so you are looking in her eyes to see that she is telling the truth, and she is. 

Natasha likes to think that you can’t tell when she is lying but you also do. 

“Now were you serious about this” Natasha holds up the box.

“Yes. I was supposed to ask you about a beautiful dinner and it be romantic” you say sadly.

“Well, the answer is yes. And this is just perfect for me” Natasha kisses you with all the passion that she has. You hold her close so she does go away.

“Let’s run away together,” Natasha says once she breaks the kiss. 

“Baby, no,” you say and Natasha looks at you confused.

“As much as I would love to run away with you. The Avengers are your family. You even got Yelena back in your life. I don’t want to be the reason why you have to leave your family” you say holding her cheek.

“You know that you are my family now too right” Natasha gets the ring out of the box. You stop her and put the ring on her. 

“That’s very true,” you admire her with the ring on.

“Fine, but I will make them like you,” Natasha says in all seriousness. 

“I bet you will,” you say and kiss Natasha again. You guys spend the night making love to each other in the same place that started it all.

Masterlist

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XIV)

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Hi! Here is new chapter! Today, we have… Christmas shenanigans, and Andrew’s family! Some misogyny in the academic world. Also, Saoirse’s back!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3578

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

No Second Troy

Why should I blame her that she filled my days

With misery, or that she would of late

Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,

Or hurled the little streets upon the great,

Had they but courage equal to desire?

What could have made her peaceful with a mind

That nobleness made simple as a fire,

With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind

That is not natural in an age like this,

Being high and solitary and most stern?

Why, what could she have done, being what she is?

Was there another Troy for her to burn?

The room was quiet as Andrew finished reading the poem. Unusually quiet. The heavy kind of silence that filled a room after art had drawn emotions from the depths of all the hearts who had listened. Even Andrew was uneasy at the thought of disturbing it now that it had settled in, now that it filled every corner.

Saoirse wasn’t sure what was the reason behind such an emotional response to the poem. The words were beautiful by themselves, of course. Her professor had introduced the poem right before reading it out loud, and perhaps the aching came from knowing that Yeats had written this poem for Maud Gonne as she rejected him once more, and was choosing to marry another man. Of course, such sentiment, phrased with such poetry, was emotional. But Saoirse couldn’t help the thought that came to her mind, as she was pretty much certain that such pain came mainly from her teacher.

There was something in the way he read poetry that tugged on her heartstrings every time. The way his deep, quiet voice moved across the words in such an intimate way that she forgot she was in a classroom. But this time, he seemed more emotional than usual. His voice shook in the middle of a verse, his tone was deeper than it should have been. His hand was slightly trembling as he readjusted his glasses upon his nose, his head still bent as he kept staring at the page.

But then he looked up again, a small smile tugging at his lips, as if he hadn’t shattered Saoirse’s world for a moment. He put down the book on his desk, buried his hands in the pockets of his grey pants, leaning back against his desk. Like it was easy to read like this, like life could go by unchanged after such a moment.

There was a flash of mischief in his gaze, and then his smile widened a little.

“Sassy…”

Some students chuckled at the comment, but Saoirse didn’t. She was still struggling to find back her footing into reality. And then Andrew looked straight into her eyes, seemed to notice her distress, frowned a little at the sight. He checked his watch. There was but five minutes left to their class for this week. He moved on.

“Erm… so… this is the poem you’ll have to work on for your essay. I’ll remind you of the specifics I want for this exercise, but I’m already warning you about something tricky with this poem, because… like… there is a trap you must not fall into. As you could be tempted to… erm… focus only on the love side of the text, and you absolutely must focus on that… but it’s Yeats. You can’t dismiss the political context in favour of a purely romantic reading, especially considering Gonne’s own convictions about an Irish independence. So… be careful not to minimise that side of the poem.”

He gave them more instructions for the essay, and Saoirse wrote down all the details, even though she couldn’t shake the thought that the way he had read that poem… there was something so personal in there, something that seemed to echo within him, or maybe it echoed within her…

The class was dismissed, Sean heaved a tired sigh, rubbed at his eyes before he started packing. He was sitting next to her, the way he always did. And she liked that. They were friends…

“I need to head to the library before our next class,” he told her. “I haven’t finished preparing Y/L/N’s class for tomorrow. I need to finish reading the excerpt and write down some notes, or I’ll be too lost during tomorrow’s lecture.”

“I’ll help you if you want. I’ve finished it.”

“Ha, but that’s because you’re so fucking organised… a real pro…”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway at the gentle teasing. Meanwhile, Andrew had walked closer and he was now standing in front of her, a worried expression painted on his features.

She blinked up at him. He seemed a little shy now that he had to talk one-on-one with her, although the smile he offered her was benevolent.

“Are you alright? You seemed upset at the end of the class, I just wanted to check in on you…”

He stared at Saoirse with expectant eyes, and she couldn’t help the surprise that was painted on her features.

“Erm… yeah, I’m good. I’m just… I guess I was really touched by the poem, that’s all.”

“Oh… alright. Good. I thought you were upset over something else like… the workload or something.”

“No, no… I just liked the poem a lot.”

Andrew chuckled at that, visibly relaxing. He hummed, his hands back into his pockets.

“Hmmm… such a sucker for longing, this William…” he joked, making both of his students chuckle.

“Yes, and… I don’t know… the way you read it… I was genuinely touched by it.”

He blinked, tightened his jaw a little, but the same kindness was still written in his eyes as he answered.

“Hmmm… we all find parts of our lives that connect to poetry, and art in general. That’s why we make art, that’s why we engage with it too. We all have emotions to express and understand and process, and whether it may be through our own production or through the work of others… what makes a piece of art worthwhile is how relatable it still is, despite the passing of time.”

Slowly, Saoirse nodded, pondering on her professor’s words. It made her want to dissect every piece of art she had ever encountered through that scope, through that longing for communication, for being understood, for speaking when words failed…

“Well, have a nice week then, and good luck for the essay. And don’t forget to have fun over Christmas despite your studies!” Andrew smiled as they parted.

As Sean and she walked out of the classroom, heading for the library, she remained lost in thought. December had come now with its load of grey clouds, biting cold and the first layers of ice over curbs, rooftiles and windows. There were no leaves left on the trees that grew across the courtyards, but the grass was still as green, even if patches of it were tainted with white. As she breathed, condensation clouded her world, and it made it as unrecognisable as her own thoughts.

Yes, her professor had spoken with emotions that made the text more beautiful than it should be, but there was more to it, a reason behind how upset she still was about the whole thing. Something personal, a reason that was there, in her chest, and yet she couldn’t fathom what it was, couldn’t put a name on the problem.

“Shite! Those fucking steps are so slippery! Jesus Christ!”

Sean laughed as he had almost fallen, walking up the few steps leading towards the entrance of the library. The round sculpture that decorated the space before the entrance was visible behind him, although his body, as he bent over with laughter, was hiding a part of it.

She stared at him as he laughed, the sound infectious enough to draw a smile on her own lips. When she reached the first step, he reached out to her, holding gently the sleeve of her warm coat, with a smile on his lips that told her in silence I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.

The tugging at her heart told her that maybe, just maybe, a part of the answer was there…

Andrew was humming a tune you didn’t recognise but you didn’t really mind. On the contrary, as you read an article on your computer screen, the sound made you smile.

He was in a good mood, clearly, had been all day. The upcoming Christmas break was at fault, without a doubt. He had mentioned that he would spend a lot of time with his family in Wicklow for the holidays. He would spend New Year’s Eve with you at the party Frank and Sam were throwing though, but Christmas was a precious moment he wanted to spend with his parents and his brother. Only a few days left of work, and you could both take a break from reading articles, preparing classes, grading essays…

You looked at him for a moment, or rather, you stared at him, that was a more appropriate verb for your action. He kept on humming softly, you didn’t care what the song was. It was a soothing sound, one you could have been lulled into sleep with. He was focused on typing something, you had no idea what. He had let his hair loose today, was wearing his glasses that reflected the light of his computer screen. He was wearing a brown shirt that fitted him a little too well to your liking.

Too well, indeed… it wasn’t helping your torturous thoughts.

You had to stop thinking about that kiss. It was nothing special, it didn’t mean a thing. And you didn’t want Andrew at all, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank and you knew it, so why were you staring at Andrew like this now? Why did you keep thinking about that drunken kiss?

Or… to be fair, kisses…

He let out a triumphant exclamation, turned to you with a grin. You had to pretend that you weren’t already staring at him.

“I’m done! Christ, the exams are going to kill me one day.”

“Finished the questions?”

“For all my classes. It’s done. I’m not touching it again, not changing anything, that is enough.”

He checked the time on his watch, but it was barely 11 o’clock. Too early for lunch break. And yet, his leg was trembling, you guessed he felt restless.

“Want to take a walk?” you asked. “A coffee?”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I’m sick of this article, it’s not even a good one. Let’s take a break!”

He grinned, the kind of bright smiles he seldom wore. Oh, he often smiled, but this kind of bright grin, of relaxed joy… he seemed to save those only for people he truly felt comfortable with. Your heart felt all warm at the thought that you were one of these people.

“You seem particularly happy today,” you pointed out, unable to refrain the fondness in your voice.

“I am!” he nodded as you walked out of your shared office. “My brother is coming over for Christmas. I’m relieved, he was working on a project in Mayo and wasn’t certain to make it. But he’ll be here to pester me about how to cook meat, and claim that the best Star Wars movie is episode five when…”

“We all know it’s Rogue One.”

“I can’t believe you’ve just said that, I’ll act like you haven’t said anything.”

“Rogue One is excellent, what are you talking about?!”

“It is excellent,” he nodded. “It’s definitely the best one after the original trilogy.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“I’ll ignore your terrible taste in Star Wars movies if you’re free some time this week.”

“Free?”

“You keep on claiming that you’re a killer at Mario Kart, and yet all I hear are words, and I don’t see any proof to back up that claim of yours.”

“Oh, so you want to get your arse kicked, then? Suit yourself, I’m free whenever you want.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“My place.”

“I’ll bring the wine.”

“Deal.”

You hoped he hadn’t noticed that your playful banter had lost some of its strength as he mentioned alcohol. Or more precisely, the prospect of getting drunk with you, which, last time, had led you to…

No! There was no need to think such thoughts! You didn’t want Andrew, you wanted Frank, and that kiss was a drunken mistake. Andrew had agreed, hence showing that he didn’t see you as more than a friend either. He wanted Sam anyway…

You heaved a sigh as you entered the cafeteria though. In front of the coffee machine, Ian and Patterson were chatting together. You tried to ignore them, but they greeted you and Andrew politely before returning to their conversation. They remained nearby while Andrew was preparing coffee for you both.

And of course, they were talking about their favourite topic of conversation… criticizing women.

Or rather, their second-favourite topic, you reckoned. They loved gloating about themselves more…

“Of course, the sources were all over the place, if women were rigorous enough, they would have more access to research jobs…” Ian said, making Patterson chuckle while Andrew was glowering at them over his shoulder, but decided to say nothing.

You threw them a disgusted look as well, one that didn’t go unnoticed. But you weren’t in the mood for arguing today. All you wanted was to escape the room with Andrew and go back to laughing with him…

… and maybe thinking about his lips again.

“Oh, I bet our ‘expert’ has something to say about that,” Patterson said, looking at you with a mocking smile.

“Not today, no,” you shook your head.

“Why not? Too tired? Busy week?”

“Just… not interested.”

“Not interested?”

“In wasting my time on you,” you clarified.

Andrew turned to you, a surprised yet impressed look on his face. Meanwhile Ian and Patterson were stunned by your tone.

“That is barely polite…” complained Ian.

“Oh, sorry… was insulting half of humanity not impolite, perhaps?”

“Now, that’s quite enough, we weren’t employing that tone!”

“God, you’re insufferable, both of you.”

Andrew blinked as he stared, stunned by your sharp tone as well. Although, he didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. He was rather… impressed.

“Insufferable… that’s highly unprofessional.”

“And you’re highly irrelevant 99% of the time you open your mouth, so maybe spare us all the boredom?”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a laugh, drawing glares from your two colleagues, but he couldn’t have cared less.

“I hope you don’t have a good day,” you concluded the discussion with a tight-lipped smile, taking the cup of coffee Andrew was handing you, and he followed you out of the room while Patterson and Ian were fuming after you. You ignored them though, merely walked back towards your office.

Andrew was staring at you in silence still, and when you turned to him, you threw him a questioning look.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked, making Andrew finally look away, blushing.

He shrugged.

“Nothing, just… I like that side of you.”

“What side?”

He laughed, gently nudging as you walked down a corridor together.

“Your ruthless side. You’re kind of… terrifying, when you want to be.”

“And you like being scared?”

“I’m not scared. Just… impressed. Intimidated as well. You’re intimidating.”

You tried to hide the way you were smiling by drinking some of your coffee. The fact that Andrew was rolling up his sleeve as he changed the topic of conversation back to something lighter again wasn’t helping…

“Mom!”

“I don’t want to hear it…”

“He started it!”

“I am too old for this…”

“I didn’t start shit, you loser! You’re the one who started this!”

“You have no taste whatsoever… and you pretend to be an artist…”

“Oh, sorry, professor, do you want to grade my essays or are you simply going to lecture me on ‘how to be a boring arse’?”

“I swear to God…”

“Stop it! Both of you!”

Both Andrew and Jon fell silent, glowering at each other from across the table.

“I swear, you two… how old are you both? You’re still bickering like you’re a pair of five year-olds!”

Andrew opened his mouth to protest, but one look from his mother made him fall back to silence.

“You boys are too old for this,” she stated, a final statement that would close any debate, and both of the brothers knew better than to argue. “And I am too old for this.”

Meanwhile, John was looking at the scene from his own spot around the table, trying hard not to laugh. While Raine was pouring herself some water, there was the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips as well.

“Jon, I’m glad your project in Mayo is working out fine, honey,” she congratulated her eldest son. “Tell us more about it.”

And Jon did, he talked about the new short-film he was shooting, talked about his colleagues, about his difficulties and the fun he had as well as their meal went on. Meanwhile the rest of the family listened and questioned and teased and joked around. And it was such a lovely afternoon. Outside, rain was pouring but in the Byrnes’ home, it was sunny and bright. Warm with love; the kind of love that whispered in the quiet that everything would be alright, eventually.

Andrew had missed this. If he didn’t live far away from his parents’ home in Wicklow, he didn’t come that often. Not as much as he would like, at least. He had a busy life of his own, after all. Jon had been away for three months, and he would rather die than admit it out loud, but Andrew had missed his brother terribly. The place felt empty when they were not all gathered together.

It was the day before Christmas, and in a few hours they would all be heading to see their relatives and spend the evening with them. Andrew would be driving, Jon and their father would criticise his itinerary, claiming to know a better route, while Raine would hum to whatever tune would be on the radio, and in the trunk there would be the food they spent their day cooking, enough of it to feed a whole battalion.

But for now, it was still just the four of them. And Andrew basked in the radiance of it all, in the simplicity of an ordinary day spent with the people he loved most on this earth, without adventures or anything exciting happening except creating memories.

He watched his brother babble about his job, his mother pouring everyone some water without asking if they wanted any, his father sneaking a piece of food to Elwood under the table.

Andrew wished he could live this day over and over and over again…

“What about you, Andy?” John asked after a short silence. “Preparing for exam season?”

“Everything’s ready,” Andrew answered with a tired sigh. “Just… busy.”

There was a moment of silence, and Andrew knew the next question that would come before his brother would ask it out loud. He had been expecting it all day, after all.

“And… what about Sam? Are you still in contact with her?”

“Yeah… erm… I’ll see her for the New Year, actually.”

“Is it really healthy to keep seeing her like that?”

“I want to keep seeing her.”

Jon narrowed his eyes as he stared at Andrew, in that way he hated so much. The way that made Jon the big brother judging the bad decisions made by the youngest.

“I really hope you’re not hanging onto her.”

Andrew grew quiet, knowing what would come, he had been expecting it, and in all fairness, his family was right. It wasn’t healthy to cling onto his ex that way, to want her back, to attempt to get her back when she was engaged to another man.

He couldn’t help it though, he just… couldn’t help it…

“Andy…” Jon heaved a sigh that withheld so much unspoken judgement it made Andrew’s blood boil.

“I haven’t asked for your opinion…”

“She treated you so bad, Andy! She broke your heart!”

“I’m not asking for your opinion, Jon!”

The room grew quiet again, until Raine reached across the table to hold her son’s hand.

“You do whatever makes you happy, Andy. That has always been what we have wished for both you and your brother. That you would both be happy.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Now, that being said… I think you deserve better than her.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“You’re my mom, or course, you do.”

“No, your mother’s right,” John added. “Sam is lovely, but… you deserve to be treated better. I think… I think you could be loved better. I think you could be happier with someone else.”

“Alright, let’s talk about something else,” decided Raine. “What about that new colleague of yours? That you keep on mentioning? Y/N?”

Andrew’s face lit up at the sound of your name, but he didn’t notice. His family did though, and they all shared a look.

“She’s well! Adapting, trying to get her footing at Trinity, I guess… but she’s doing okay.”

“You’re becoming good friends, I reckon.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think we can say we’re good friends by now.”

“Hmm… and nothing more?”

“Mom…”

“I’m just asking!”

“Nothing more. None of us is… looking for anything like that at the moment anyway.”

“Hmm…”

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me… There’s nothing there, just… we’re just good friends. Really good friends.”

Why did this answer felt like lying though? Why was his heart dropping as he spoke the word ‘friend’?

For a second, the mere blink of an eye, he could feel your lips on his and…

No! No… it didn’t mean a thing…

“Anyway… she shut Ian and Patterson up the other day, like… it was crazy.”

“Really?”

“Hmm… yeah, like…”

Andrew started rambling about you, failing to realise that he jumped from one anecdote to the next. Raine and John exchanged a knowing glance, smiled.

They merely hoped their son would wake up soon.

[fivelasanctum]

Fivela push & pull chemistry

Think I'm showing my age with this one 🤣 I'm grateful we were able to see the softer, romantic side of their relationship. However, do miss the more aggressive banter they had. We did get hints of it still happening before the subway. Most likely they still partook in that in the 6 year time-skip leading up to season 4. They had become close friends by the point of this scene. Body language. Five automatically denying her with an air of familiarity like he is use to her having these suggestions. Ironic given he does cave rather easily to her suggestion. Both having that thirst for excitement. His addiction to problem solving amidst the chaos. My theory is I think he did want more opportunities to spend with her. Quite possibly he tried to compartmentalized any guilt since he did make some attempts to bring Diego into the information they had and plans. Pass that point, he was going to take the little moments with hanging out with Lila.

Another instance of them still having their sassy chemistry of the likes of season 3 five and lila is them shoving each other out of the way when Lila tried to claim shotgun seat from Five.

As I was taking screen captures, noticed for a moment Five had this quick bemused expression at her threat. In this scene they engage well in conversation. Five caught up in talking and doing whisper banter made him forget himself for a moment with being on the mission. Him wanting the last word over who would blow their cover and her whisper being loud.

Took 6 years but couldn't help but remember Lila trying to give some constructive criticism on his tone of voice. Now Five mentioning her whispers are high pitched.

Their first year or parts of it suggests they had that back and forth snarky banter. Looks like Five is amused with getting her riled up but then when the blame game started (was lila's fault initially...) he's annoyed. So even if their wasn't emphasis on that part of their relationship as much anymore. It is nice it wasn't ignored completely. They simply just evolved as people and with their relationship becoming more mature and intricate in it's complexities.

[nikoniclove]

Hi!! Love your Ace in the hole fics! I saw you said you take requests here. Id love to see more angst surrounding JJ and Emily. Maybe them almost getting hurt and Ace distancing herself because she’s scared of the heartbreak she would feel if she loses one of them, so she tries to back off to lighten the blow. Up to you if you like the concept, it was just a thought. Thanks for all you do!

It’s hard to explain.

Emily gets shot. It’s a graze on her left upper arm. She’s fine. Actually fine. She’s already making jokes about it when the team is on the plane heading back to Quantico.

That’s not the confusing part. You know how she got shot. You were all clearing the house, divided into two groups. The unsub fired off a shot when he was startled, the bullet zipped past Emily just nicking her. You fired back - kill shot. That’s also not the confusing part. You’ve been in war zones as an operative and a sniper. Shooting someone who attacks your unit or your team … that’s not going to cause you a single bit of heartache.

No, the confusing part is the feelings. Again, you’ve been in war zones and lost fellow soldiers, and you never felt this … panic. It doesn’t make sense. You’re very good, very adept, at just not feeling, not letting things affect you. You keep your head down. You don’t get involved with personal things. You do the job, and you go home. Sure, you’re not a sociopath, so you develop bonds with your unit and your team. You don’t like to see them get injured. You worry about them. But the feeling that gripped you when Emily got shot was nothing like that. It was raw, deep, and thick. That feeling lingered.

Even now it’s hanging around when you know she’s okay. You saw the injury while she was perched on the back of the ambulance, cracking jokes and being sassy while getting stitched up. JJ nudges you with her foot, a silent check in. You force a reassuring smile and intentionally mute your anxious fidgeting habits. “Coming over tonight?”

Right. You’ve never slept with anyone before and then seen them get shot, so maybe it’s that, but again it *feels* different. You glance toward Emily, her sleeve’s texture bumpy where the gauze is wrapped around her upper arm. “I… umm… I… uhh… I have plans.”

“Oh yeah,” JJ asks, feigning belief. You nod, biting your lip. If your feelings are reacting like this, after sleeping with them a handful of times, getting close with them as teammates, you should reel it back in and quickly. You don’t want to stomach the raw, intense feelings if they get hurt or when they finally decide this coworker-with-benefits arrangement has run its course. You need to retract back into your fortitude and do what you can to lessen the blow before it happens. You got too attached. Keep your head down; keep to yourself. Do your job. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you agree, far too quickly to be truthful.

JJ hums noncommittally. She doesn’t believe you for a second. To be fair, your responses weren’t exactly confident. Oh well. Too attached. Need to pull back before you get your heart crushed. “Emily’s okay, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” At least you can say that part honestly.

When you go your separate ways at the airfield, you sit in the parking lot for a long moment, trying to justify your bullshit. You’re waffling. Both options suck. If you keep seeing them outside of work, you’ll get closer and closer until they decide it’s over. Those aggravating, confusing feelings will get deeper; they’ll bleed over into field work like they did today, and when they do finally call it, you’ll be crushed, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. If you pull back now, like you know you should, you miss them, and they’ve become an equally confusing important part of your day-to-day, and that’s bound to make you feel … things. Briefly you wonder if you could convince your therapist to increase your dosage to get to some nice medium where you feel nothing and you can exist without worrying about your stupidly fragile heart behind walls and walls of inner defense strategies. They’re too smart for that, and you wouldn’t actually ask because that’s not what your meds are for. Having a conscious is stupid.

The tap on your window scares the shit out of you, and Emily waves, her keys in her hand. You roll it down and look at her expectantly. “Car okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you confirm. You haven’t turned it on yet because you were sitting moping about your stupid feelings but you won’t tell Emily that.

“Don’t you have plans to get to?”

“What?” Your brow furrows in confusion. “Oh, right. Yeah.” Lying bites you quickly in the ass as you forgot you told JJ there was a reason you couldn’t come over. “I should get going. Thanks for checking on me. I’ll… uh… I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Emily leans into your window, so you couldn’t drive away even if your car was on and you were ready to do that. “So what’s the real reason you’re not coming over,” she challenges. “Because we both know you don’t have plans.”

“I do,” you insist lamely. With her non-injured arm, she reaches to turn your face toward her. “I don’t like feeling things,” you admit, annoyed with the blush heating up your cheeks.

“And you felt something back in the field,” she understands. “I’m okay, love.” You know. You know that. It’s not as simple as that, which is also why it’s so fucking confusing. “Hmm,” she noises at whatever reaction she reads across your face. “Come over. We’ll have dinner. We can ignore whatever feelings you don’t want to talk about. I’m a pro at that.” The offer is stupidly appealing. Aggravatingly, confusingly so. You are too attached, too invested. These women are going to break your heart and make you feel all sorts of things you’re not ready for. But you can’t turn her down. You nod slowly. “Good. JJ’s going to ride with you, so you can’t change your mind.” Emily tips forward just a bit more to kiss your cheek. “We have feelings too,” she whispers. “It’s okay.” You’re not so sure that’s the case, but that’s a problem for Future You. For tonight, you’ll go back to their apartment, spend time with and between them, and you’ll sleep. Figuring out your feelings can be for another day.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Christmas for Two

Plot: Away from their families, Jamie and Y/n attempt to do Christmas together.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: f!reader, language, talk of alcoholism, child abuse/neglect

A/N: A little Christmas in July/Phil Dunster Emmy nomination gift for you all! I have no clue what the timeline on s3 is, but this felt like a good place to put a Christmas chapter. I also did my best to combine English and American Christmas traditions/vernacular, hopefully did okay. Hope you enjoy!! 🎄❤️

—————

The coach’s office was a mess of ribbons and wrapping paper.

Ted gasped as he opened the box sat in his lap, “You are kiddin’ me.”

Stood in a corner of the room, Y/n beamed.

“C’mon now,” Ted pulled out the bottle of American barbecue sauce, “Where’d you find this?”

“Specialty store in Chiswick,” Y/n replied, “I was there seeing if Britain had finally caved and brought over Ben and Jerry’s. Spoiler alert: they have not.”

Ted was grinning ear to ear, “Man, this is special. Thank you, Y/n.”

On their traditional half-day of work on Christmas, the AFC Richmond staff were holding their party. Gifts were exchanged and treats were eaten. One room over, the Greyhounds were having their own celebration.

“Yes, I think you’ve got us all beat for gifts,” Rebecca said from her corner, sniffing one of the tea bags in the collection Y/n had gifted her.

“Not true,” Y/n held up a finger before holding up the spa certificate Rebecca had just handed her. “I just know the power of American barbecue.”

“And yet,” Beard held out his hands in expectation, “None for me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing how happy he actually was with the philosophy book she’d found him.

“So,” Ted drummed his hands on his desk, “What’s everybody’s plans for today?”

“The Higgins’ door will be open and ready to receive any and all weary travelers,” Higgins volunteered, “I believe most of the boys are coming.”

“I’ve got dinner with Nora and Sassy,” Rebecca said.

“Fun,” Ted said, looking over across the room, “What about you, Roy?”

“Phoebe’s got a pageant at school,” the coach replied, “Fuck knows why it wasn’t last night.”

“Nice,” Ted smiled, “Y/n?”

Y/n exhaled, “Well, my sister couldn’t come over this year, so it’ll just be dinner with a friend.”

“What about your folks?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, uh,” Y/n tried to put on a smile, “They couldn’t make it either.”

“Too bad,” Higgins empathized, “Well, if you and your friend don’t feel like cooking, there’s always room at our table.”

Y/n nodded, “Thanks.”

Things lasted another half hour or so before people began to trickle out, off to their respective plans. Y/n stayed behind, having volunteered to clean up since everyone else’s day was time sensitive. She was just tying the trash bag of wrapping paper when there was a knock.

Jamie hung on the frame that separated the coach’s offices, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Y/n set the bag in the corner of Roy’s office, “That’ll be Monday’s problem.”

Grabbing her bag of gifts and switching off the lights, Y/n glided past Jamie, who followed behind. They ducked out into the hall, some of the last people in the building.

Christmas was an off holiday for both of them. With the match against Crystal Palace that weekend, Jamie couldn’t get away to Manchester to visit his mom. And Y/n hadn’t lied when she said her sister couldn’t travel to spend the day with her, but she had lied about her parents. They had every opportunity to phone and ask her to come home, or to visit. They just chose not to.

So, with nowhere else to go, Jamie and Y/n had decided to spend the holiday together.

“Are there even any markets open on Christmas Day?” Y/n asked once they were in the parking lot.

“Yeah, I think there’s one near here,” Jamie unlocked his car door. They’d carpooled in the interest of the shopping they had planned after the party.

“I hope you thought right,” Y/n said as she climbed in the passenger seat, “Or else it’s going to be a pretty funky dinner.”

Jamie had, indeed, guessed right. There was one market open for half a day in Richmond for the cooks who’d forgotten that one ingredient. Y/n and Jamie, however, were starting completely from scratch.

“Okay,” Jamie tugged on one of the shopping trolleys and swung it around, “What do we need?”

“Everything,” Y/n stated, “You ever cooked a Christmas dinner?”

“Uh, no,” he replied, “You? We’re fucked if you say no.”

Y/n scanned the rows of aisles, unsure of where to start. “No, I have. It’s just been a while. Like, not-since-America while.”

Jamie puffed out his cheeks, “Right.”

“Okay,” Y/n clapped her hands together, “Turkey. Main attraction. Let’s start there.”

Down the aisle where the entrees should have been, there was an empty case. A few lonesome birds were still chilling, but it was clear all the good ones had been chosen long ago.

“So we’ve either got a fuckin’ Goliath,” Jamie held up a massive turkey in one arm, then the smallest in his other, “Or its baby.”

Y/n crinkled her nose at the colorful description. “I mean, that one’s meant for way more than two people,” she pointed to the first option, “It’s not like we need leftovers.“

Jamie nodded, that was true. Roy had allowed him one cheat day for the holidays, the free pass ended at 12AM, December 26th. But be was determined to enjoy the one meal.

“So the baby?” Jamie held up the small bird.

“If you stop calling it that,” Y/n grabbed the cart, “Yes.”

Jamie laughed cheekily, setting the turkey in the basket. “Right, what else?”

“Stuffing, potatoes, something for dessert,” Y/n listed items off her mental menu. She glanced over at Jamie, “Really hope we can cook.”

They went around the rest of the store, picking leftovers off the barren shelves. Unfortunately, that left either the specialty items or the nearly expired dishes, which was how they ended up with the most expensive potatoes, gluten free stuffing mix and a pudding that was on its sell-by date.

“Who was your secret Santa?” Y/n asked as they passed the wine aisle.

“Dani,” Jamie answered, “Why?”

Y/n stopped and backtracked her steps, reaching for the first bottle of red wine she saw. She’d stopped by the locker room on occasions where the Greyhounds won and had caught a whiff of the strong Mexican liquor Dani favored. A world didn’t exist where she felt like subjecting her stomach to that.

“Smart,” Jamie agreed as she popped the drink in the trolley.

They managed to get in and out quick enough that the only person who recognized Jamie was the cashier, who didn’t do more than wish him luck on the upcoming match. Y/n wasn’t used to worrying about being photographed, but she knew that any time she stepped out with Jamie, there was a chance of it.

As they loaded the bags into the boot of Jamie’s car, Y/n caught one lone present, wrapped and tied with a ribbon, pushed to the side.

“Did you forget someone today?”

“Huh?” Jamie hummed. Y/n pointed to the box. “Ah, no,” he shut the boot before she could get a better look and smirked, “That’s for later.”

Y/n pursed her lips a little, smiling as Jamie walked the cart back to its station.

“Alright,” he said as they got back in the car, “We doin’ this at my place or yours?”

Y/n thought for a second, “Do you even know how to use your kitchen?”

“Course I do,” Jamie paused a second, “I mean…pretty sure.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n chuckled, “My place it is. That, or we ask Sam for the keys to the restaurant.”

Jamie backed the car out of its spot, “Think we need to have a bit more confidence for that.”

Y/n agreed silently, before her thoughts fell to the inevitable. A few weeks prior, during the whole Twitter fiasco, Sam’s restaurant had been broken into and destroyed. The night of the Arsenal match, the boys had all gone over to repair it, surprising Sam. Y/n had yet to see it in its restored glory.

“I feel like we got a pretty good handle, though,” Jamie interrupted her thoughts, “We got the meal, the crackers, place’ll be all decorated…”

Hoping his eyes were more focused on the road then her, Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah,” she said, “That’s, uh…”

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I’m not…totally decorated,” Y/n struggled to get out.

“You’ve got a tree at least, yeah?” Jamie replied.

Silence.

Fate bestowed him a red light, and Jamie turned to Y/n with widened eyes. “You haven’t got a tree? The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I’ve been busy,” Y/n defended the decision, “I’ve barely been home between the away games and working late. There wasn’t much of a point in getting one.”

Jamie let his hand smack against the steering wheel, “Unbelievable.”

“Wha- you don’t have one either,” Y/n argued. There’d been a stunning lack of Christmas cheer in Jamie’s house the last week when he’d been appointed to host the monthly team dinner.

“That’s different,” Jamie put his foot to the gas as the car behind him honked.

“How?” Y/n laughed.

Jamie shrugged, “I dunno. You’re you. Figured you’d be one of those people who’s decoratin’ the day after Halloween.”

In another life, that was her. Y/n had been all over Christmas in her younger years. Every holiday was a speed bump in getting to December 24th and 25th. But once she’d graduated and started her corporate life, it became less and less of a big deal. If it was a year Caylee came to visit, she’d dust off decorations and make a show of it, but it just seemed sad to do it all on her own.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Y/n smiled, ignoring the particular bit of backstory she didn’t feel like sharing.

“You’re not,” Jamie replied as he signaled to get into the next lane, “‘Cause we’re fixin’ this.”

Y/n looked out the window, the turn that would’ve been theirs was drifting further and further away. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Ten minutes later, Jamie was pulling the car into a Christmas tree lot. Or rather, what once was a Christmas tree lot.

“Can’t believe these places are even open today,” Y/n commented as they walked up to the shop.

“They’re here for the sad sacks who wait till the last minute,” Jamie remarked smugly, nudging Y/n’s elbow with his.

Like the market, the lot was sparse. The only trees left were either the type that shed its needles if you breathed on it or the ones that were already turning brown.

“I’m not overwhelmed by our options,” Y/n said, scanning the rows over again.

“Hang on,” Jamie climbed behind one of the half-dead ones, having spotted a flash of green as he’d passed. He pulled out a miniature one that barely went up to his waist.

“It truly is a Charlie Brown Christmas,” Y/n remarked, smiling at the juxtaposition between Jamie’s size and the tree.

“I mean, it is going in the bin tomorrow, innit?” Jamie picked up the glorified shrub and brought it to the poor worker stuck there on Christmas Day. “We’ll take this one.”

“And we’ll just stick it in the car,” Y/n added, catching Jamie’s confusion and whispering, “We are not making him go to the trouble of tying a houseplant to the roof.”

As Y/n handed the worker a few bills, Jamie spotted a small stack of ornaments and stands for sale as well. He grabbed one of each and pulled a few pounds out his wallet, adding to the total.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to the man, “Merry Christmas.”

Jamie looked proud as they walked back to the car, “Now it’s Christmas.”

Y/n couldn’t argue with him.

—————————

Once they got back to Y/n’s place, Jamie took over unpacking the groceries, while Y/n dug through the hall closet to find some lights for the tree.

“Oi,” Jamie called down the hallway, holding the box of stuffing, “We can still cook this normal, yeah? We don’t have to do anything different.”

“I would think,” Y/n yelled back, waist deep in old boxes, “It’s just bread.”

Jamie went back to the kitchen, he remembered his way around from when they’d unpacked it months ago. The only thing that had changed was the light fixture.

“That’s new,” he said, hearing Y/n’s footsteps approaching.

“Oh, yeah,” she replied, setting an old strand of multicolored lights on the counter, “Ted helped me install it last week. Couple shocks…mostly Ted, but we got it up.”

Jamie chuckled.

“Okay,” Y/n looked to the pile of food beside the stove, “I’ll do the turkey, you start on sides?”

Giving a little salute, Jamie went about grabbing bowls and spoons. Y/n pre-heated the oven and took the turkey out of its wrapping.

“Ugh,” she groaned, peeking inside the bird, “I forgot how disgusting this part is.”

Jamie glanced over and scoffed, “Nope.”

Y/n shut her eyes as she reached in and pulled out the giblets, nearly gagging as she did.

“Carry on with that,” Jamie teased, making a show of pouring in the very dry stuffing mix, “I’ll stay doing this.”

Annoyed, and slightly jealous, Y/n cupped the unmentionable parts of the turkey in her hands and approached Jamie.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he held up a wooden spoon as if it were a shield, “Get away. There’s probably, like, four different bird diseases in there.”

“Yep,” Y/n continued walking towards him, “Don’t get smug in my kitchen, or you’ll be benched with three of them.”

Jamie held up his hands in defeat, “Truce.”

The two of them snorted and snickered before carrying on with their tasks.

It all flowed rather well. Even though they were lacking in skill, Y/n and Jamie felt good about how well everything seemed to be going. In between mixing and flipping, they managed to get the tree in its stand and start decorating. As Jamie was finishing with the ornaments, Y/n popped over to check the turkey, surprised by what she found.

“Shit,” she exclaimed, reaching for the oven mitts.

“What?” Jamie called.

Hurriedly, she opened the oven door and pulled the bird out. The outer layer was far beyond well done, looking tough and chewy.

Jamie entered then, puzzled, but chuckling. “Thought you said you knew how to cook a dinner.”

“I do,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave, “With a much bigger bird. This is a pigeon!”

Jamie was full on laughing by then, covering his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, Padma Lakshmi,” Y/n retorted with a smirk, “Smell that?”

The air was thick with the scent of something burning, and it wasn’t the meat. Jamie pushed past Y/n to get to the stuffing and potatoes he’d put on. Determining the stuffing was the cause of the scent, he switched the burner off and attempted to scoop it out of the pot.

What came out was one giant clump, burnt to a crisp on the bottom and around the edges.

Y/n snorted as she set the turkey on the counter, hand on her hip as she watched Jamie work up a reply. When he came up with nothing, holding the burnt blob on an oversized fork, the two of them fell into a fit of laughter.

In the spirit of Christmas magic, they were able to salvage the dinner. They scooped out the good stuffing, trimmed the chewy parts of the turkey off, and agreed the potatoes were the only dish that looked semi-normal.

After, with their paper crowns on their heads, Jamie and Y/n sat on opposite ends of the couch, still amused at their efforts.

“I think we did pretty good,” Jamie gestured to his chest.

Y/n made a doubtful noise, “We’re a ways away from opening our own Ola’s.”

“We’re keeping takeaways in business,” Jamie replied, “Think about it that way.”

“Oh, that we are,” Y/n smiled, taking a sip of wine, “That we are. And hey, you got to eat.”

Jamie slapped a hand over his sated stomach, “Don’t know if my body’s knows what to do with it.”

Y/n laughed before Jamie smacked his hands together. “Right, time for gifts.”

Y/n stayed in her spot, “That’s assuming I got you anything.”

Jamie looked back from the front door, shooting her a quirked eyebrow. Y/n smiled and got up, like there was a chance in hell she’d have neglected to get him something.

They each went to retrieve the gifts, meeting back on the couch. Jamie was holding the mystery box he’d had stashed in his trunk.

“You first,” he said as they swapped packages.

Y/n unwrapped the square, nearly holding her breath as she took off the box’s lid. Peeling back the tissue paper revealed-

“Oh, good Lord.”

Jamie was somewhere between a grin and a smirk. Whatever it was, he wore it proudly.

Y/n held up the #9 ‘Tartt’ jersey and smirked at Jamie. “Really?”

“You’re gonna work at a football club, you gotta have a kit,” Jamie shrugged.

“And it had to be #9, huh?” Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “Couldn’t have been Colin or Sam’s?”

Jamie scoffed, “They ain’t your favorite.”

Y/n let out a single laugh, “What makes you think you are?”

“Don’t see either of them sittin’ here on Christmas with ya,” Jamie replied, “In a flat they found for ya, eatin’ a dinner they cooked with ya.”

It was hard not to laugh at Jamie’s cockiness. Behind the raging over-confidence, there was something sweet behind the gesture that Y/n could appreciate.

“Well,” Y/n set the jersey back in the box, “I’m not wearing it to matches.”

“Oh, why not?” Jamie asked unseriously.

“Because I’m there for all of you,” Y/n smirked, “And if I’m wearing anyone’s shirt, it’ll be Roy’s.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jamie moaned. Roy and Y/n had bonded on the mornings she joined them for training. The two of them took such joy in torturing Jamie.

Y/n set the Tartt box to the side and handed Jamie his gift. He went about unwrapping it, a little speechless when he removed the last of the paper.

“This from last week’s match?” He asked.

“Mm-hm,” Y/n hummed, hugging her legs to her chest.

In a thick silver frame was a picture of the Greyhounds on the pitch at Nelson Road. Sam, Jamie and Isaac were the most prominently featured. Sam had just scored a goal and a heap of the players were celebrating. It was a perfect representation of the brotherhood they carried with them on and off the field.

“One of the photographers snapped it and I asked him to send it to me,” Y/n explained, “I noticed you didn’t have any pictures up at your place, thought this could be the first one.”

Jamie’s home decor was less than personal. His first few years in the Premier League hadn’t come with many close relationships, his own fault. Most of his family pictures were tainted with memories of something that had happened the days they were taken involving his dad. That didn’t leave him many options.

But this, Jamie thought as he weighed the frame in his hand, this was special. Not only was it his team, his mates, his place in the world, but Y/n had seen the value of it all.

Jamie looked up at her, the corners of his lips tugging upwards, “I love it.”

Y/n grinned, shopping for everyone had been stressful. It had been a long time since she’d had to choose personal gifts, and there’d been a part of her that wanted to throw away the whole gesture. But she’d pushed past her instincts, choosing to give into sentiment. One look at how touched Jamie and the others had been told her it had been worth it.

“Well,” Jamie set the frame on the coffee table, next to his kit, “We can call this a win, yeah?”

“For sure,” Y/n said, reaching out to clink her wine glass against Jamie’s, “Best makeshift Christmas ever.”

“Yeah,” Jamie cackled.

“Best Christmas you’ve ever had?” Y/n asked, “Go.”

Jamie blew out a breath, thinking back. The last few holidays had been spent either in Manchester with his mum or on his own. Two years before, when he was back at Man City, he’d ended up with his dad for part of the day, which left him miserable. If he was being honest, the last Christmas Jamie had truly enjoyed was the one he was currently celebrating.

“Eh, probably when I were a kid,” he answered, “Forget how old I was, but it was the first year I remember being really into football. Me mum got me my first kit.”

Y/n looked over her wineglass, “Was it Roy’s?”

Jamie sighed, glaring softly at her, “Not the point.”

Y/n chortled.

“It was one year me dad was too drunk to remember what day it were,” Jamie went on, his eyes falling on the wall as the memories hit, “Spent the whole day worried he was gonna show up, but…never did. By dinner, I think even mum knew he weren’t coming ‘round, and everything just sorta…relaxed, y’know? Didn’t feel like Christmas till then.”

Jamie’s blue eyes melted into some sort of sad resignation. It was a piece of his history that still hurt, but enough time had passed to see the silver lining, if there was one to be found. He wouldn’t have told the story to anyone else, but this was Y/n. She understood.

Y/n smiled softly, feeling the melancholia. “And you went to bed wearing your little Roy Kent jersey?”

Jamie’s smile came back, thankful for the change in tone. “Fuck you,” he replied, downing the last of his wine, “Right, what’s yours?”

Y/n sighed, like Jamie, there weren’t many to pick from. “Probably when I was eleven. My parents were hosting some party and they pawned me and my sister off on our grandparents. I think they could see that they had zero interest in being with us or giving us a good Christmas, so they went overboard. My grandma got me and Caylee in the kitchen cooking with her,” Y/n glanced at the kitchen where the remnants of dinner sat, “Clearly none of the skills stuck with me. My grandpa had all the movies playing, he tried to keep us laughing as much as he could.”

Taking a breath, Y/n continued, “I remember Caylee and I wrote this Christmas play before dinner. There was a lot of dancing and a lot of off-key singing,” she laughed, Jamie snorted, “But…damn it if our grandparents weren’t up on their feet clapping as if we’d just done Hamlet.”

Though shitty parents came as no surprise to Jamie, he was still a bit shocked. His voice was soft as he asked, “They really just left you?”

Y/n nodded, hugging herself, “Most years.”

The two of them sat in silence, their mutual history sitting in the gap between their bodies. The holidays amplified the best in the world, goodwill and generosity, but for those already hurting, the ever-present loneliness only intensified.

“Don’t know why people have kids if they don’t want ‘em,” Jamie mused, his eyes flitting to Y/n.

She shrugged, her hand curled against her lips. “I’ve been asking myself that since I was old enough to. Haven’t found an answer yet.”

In the moment their eyes met, Y/n and Jamie were struck by just how similar they really were. They’d known it already, it was one of the reasons they got along so well, but it felt like there was a different reality to it. Another layer peeled back, another piece of themselves they were entrusting to the other. And, above all other things, it was safe.

Y/n sniffled, wiping a stray tear away, “This is getting depressing. It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah,” Jamie cleared his throat.

Climbing off the sofa, Y/n went over to the kitchen bar and grabbed her Bluetooth speaker. She connected her phone and pulled up her Christmas playlist.

Jamie watched from his spot on the couch as she slid over to him, hand extended. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going to dance,” Y/n replied, “And we’re going to celebrate the fact that it’s Christmas and we’re somewhere better than we’ve been.”

If it were another day, Jamie wouldn’t have hesitated to make some joke of what Y/n had said. How of course it was better, because he was there. But all he really wanted to do, and what he did do, was take her hand, anchor them together and dance to whatever overly cheery song was playing.

All over Richmond, the uplifting mood was hitting its peak. Ted was on the phone with Henry, sharing his dinner and his son’s lunch, talking about what Santa had brought. Rebecca was giggling with Nora and Sassy at a five star restaurant. Keeley was seated at a full family table at her mother’s. Roy was with his sister, applauding Phoebe as her and her classmates took their bows. Beard was helping Leslie carve a massive turkey as Sam, Dani, Jan, and the rest of the Greyhounds sat around foldout tables. Y/n and Jamie were giggling uncontrollably as he picked her up and spun her around, the sounds of Nat King Cole filling the flat.

For all of them, it was Christmas to remember.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars

[russellsppttemplates]

Max trying to find if either Jimmy or Sassy ate the engagement ring

Cw: veterinary surgery, mentions animal's sickness

"It was here, Victoria!", Max huffed, "I swear it was. I bought it with mama, we went to the shop she said we should go, got it in a nice box and everything. Not the velvety ones because Y/N can't stand velvet, so I was this wooden one, it flips open with a magnet and- and now I've lost it!".

It had been a nightmare. Max had everything planned to propose to you. The set up was ready, the plans were scheduled and everyone knew where they needed to be. It was all going underway until he found the box on the floor of his side of the home office. You rarely went near his desk, so he figured you wouldn't find it.

"I know you're worried about it, but let us look- No! Jimmy! You can't eat that! Max, have you fed the cats today? Jimmy keeps eating everything, and Sassy is following the steps!", his sister alerted, "Oh, do you think...?".

"Do I think what- Oh, no", Max caught up, grabbing his cellphone and calling up the veterinarian, "hey, I have an urgent matter in my hands".

A few hours and imaging studies later, the veterinarian found the engagement ring inside of Jimmy, "can you tell me how the ring is, please?", the doctor asked.

"It's a very simple cut, and my girlfriend has very small fingers so it isn't that big- Oh, do you think that's why the cat ate it?", he wondered.

"Cats have their own minds, you know? Anything could've led to eat it. But since you say it is simple and doesn't have many details, it will be easier to pass, hopefully", she concluded, "keep an eye out for them, but so far they seem fine".

Back with the carriers in the car and his sister shaking her head, "you're getting Y/N a new one, or at least send this one to the best cleaning service in this city", she snickered, "twice or even three times, just to make sure it's properly clean".

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[theconstantsidekick]

heyyyy...how are you doing.????

I was just wondering that if you have the idea of writing one shots for static verse , could you.. maybe write something where static takes Bucky as her date to her Harvard reunion...

may be when she was studying , everyone used to be so jealous of her cuz she is basically a sassy smartass...but now in the reunion they are acting so nice because she is a lawyer/avenger.. Definitely faking niceness...

and Jamie boy being too proud of his girl...

The Class of '92 | b.b

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluffy with a chance of angst.

Summary: Y/n goes to the Harvard Reunion to reap the benefits of the alumni fees she's been giving out for the last three and a half decades.

(This takes place after the events of Static: Get, Set, Glitch. However, it can be read as a stand-alone piece. But it’s fun. I promise.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use, Mentions of Sex, Minors DNI, 18+ Only.

a/n: I think I strayed a little away from the original premise? I'm sorry?

Bucky Barnes, The Boyfriend (other one-shots) | The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static | Static: Get, Set, Glitch | Static Verse Masterlist

If she were being completely honest, she never entertained the idea of going to her class reunions. The whole ‘being-half-alien-aging-like-a-nebula-and-looking-the-same-for-years-on-end’ thing kinda took the wind out of her sails whenever she even thought about accepting the invite.

But that was then. 

Now people know who she is, what she is. No more reasons to hide, no Ross on her ass trying to hunt her down for the Accords, no giant purple grape looking alien knocking at the door threatening to burn the world down, no younger brother constantly being confused as her older brother.

Fuck. She’ll never get used to that.

The moment the invitation popped up on her laptop screen, her first reaction was to call Tony.

“You’ve got Tony Stark. I’m probably busy saving the world or curing a hangover. You can leave a message at the beep but I only get back to people if they’re hot. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will delete your message if you’re not. You’ve been warned.” The pre-recorded voice-message cut off with a beep.

Exhaling harshly, she spoke softly, “I was calling to ask you if you wanted to go to my reunion with me. Free booze, snobby assholes, jealous losers who hate me for being smarter, and did I mention the free booze? Totally your scene.” She fidgeted with the folder on her desk, nervous about a voicemail. “But you’re busy… being a dead dick so… So I guess I’ll just skip it this year as well.”

Life had other plans, though.

Well, her beloved boyfriend James Bucky Barnes did.

“I can go with you?” He offered. 

“What?” she asked him, confused.

“To the reunion,” he answered easily, his eyes still fixed on the omelet he was making for her. “I can go with you. Can’t guarantee I’ll be as fun company as your brother, but I can show you a good time. Pull out all the stops, be the trophy husband of a lifetime.” He smiled at her then. “Only if you want to, though.”

And now here they were. 

“This was a bad idea,” she comments, sipping on her drink.

“Why?” Bucky asks her, more confident than her—which don’t get her wrong was hot as fuck, but very unlike them.

“They’re all… they’re all—”

“Old?” Bucky finished with an amused smile. 

She couldn’t help the smile that slipped out.

He looks good, comfortable and sen-fucking-sational. He’s wearing a black tux with a white shirt and black bowtie. She’d been a little too busy trying to decide what to wear to have noticed him changing into the outfit. Eventually, having finalized on a white twill suit and a blood red silk shirt with a matching tie, she stepped out of her room. And he was a fucking vision.

Looking at him might just be her favourite hobby. She could pursue that shit as a vocation.

“That happens sometimes.” Bucky tells her. “People do get old, you know?”

She looks around at the crowd. They’re at the prime location for people watching, standing at the bar, far in the corner of the vast room. The lights are dim, only sprinkles of yellow scattered around the venue, the rest is overshadowed by a sea of ocean blue. So, she takes the moment, the isolation and takes a while to soak in his words. 

‘People do get old.’

“Yeah… yeah. I know,” she responds solemnly.

He takes a moment too, not to look at the crowd. Bucky seldom looks at anything with interest apart from her. He does the same now, he looks at her, studying the expression on her face. With his assessment done, he says, “I’ve never seen you nervous before.”

“I’m not nervous,” Y/n bites back, scolding him with absolutely no heat whatsoever.

“I’ve never seen you anxious before,” he amends.

Rolling her eyes, “I’m not anxious.”

“Scared?”

She has to look at him then. Brows furrowed, she frowns. 

Bucky throws up his hands instantly, admitting his mistake with an adorable smile.

“I used to steal Bruce’s homemade tacos before he learned to control the Hulk,” she smiles too. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

He takes a step closer to her, his words are softer when he speaks but bold enough for her to hear with ease. Gently placing his hand on the small of her back, he asks, “Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I wasn’t exactly… well, let’s just say there’s a reason I avoided going to class when I was in college,” she answers. Bucky’s face scrunches up at the insinuation.

But before he can enquire about it any further, before she can warn him, a voice cuts in.

“That was because you used to be a facetious little know-it-all,” the man comments. “You didn’t need the classes anyway.” He smiles, and there is no warmth in it.

Bucky must notice because his arm tightens just a little around her.

This was bound to happen sooner or later. She decides to roll with the punches. She knew what she was getting into when she came here.

“Charles Walton,” she greets him with a smile, just as dead as his. “Been a long time.”

“I’d say the same, but you look exactly the same as you did back then—not a hair out of place. I’m not sure time even passed,” he jokes, or well he tries.

“What can I say? It’s the price of being an Avenger,” she bites back.

He laughs, a hollow thing. “Hey, Milkovich!” He yells out over her head. “Guess who showed up!”

Well, fuck.

That one shout is enough to draw the attention of the entire class of 92. Cause almost instantly there’s a crowd gathered around Bucky and her. There’s chuckles and whispers among them—some are bewildered at her presence while others seem itching to make this a battlefield. 

“Ah, the famous Avenger,” a female voice chimes in. “You're famous around these parts, you know?” She takes a couple steps closer to them. Assessing her from head to toe, “Not just for being an Avenger, but being so elusive that you didn’t show up for a single reunion… But at least now we know why.”

“Nice to see you too, Seline,” Y/n tells her, calm and centered.

“Shit, Stark!” Mickey Milkovitch balks. “You look the fucking same!” 

And fine, she can take it from Milkovich. The guy was always crass but never rude. He just lacked a fucking filter.

So the smile that she smiles is open and kind. “Thanks, Mick. I could say the same about you.” She’s not lying. The guy looks pretty good for his age… and for the copious amount of alcohol she remembers him consuming during every party and every lecture.

“Not as good as you, holy shit! You really don’t age, do you?” He asks and it’s genuine so again, he gets a pass.

Nodding, “Not enough. My telomeres don’t work right, I think. Rest of me is human… mostly.”

And Mickey seems to take a lot of pleasure in her answer—smiling, he holds up his glass to cheers. She meets him with her own glass.

“Can’t lie, it’s a surprise to see you here,” another woman speaks up. “We thought we’d seen the last of you at the graduation.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Candace. I saw the invite and I just couldn’t help myself,” Y/n bites back.

“Didn’t have time for us before?” Candace Huston asks.

“Ah.” Y/n never really liked these snobby prep school kids. Even after all these years, they’ve somehow managed to not change at all. She doesn’t know why she expected them to. “I was a little caught up.”

“Saving the world?” Archer Bass suggests, mocking.

“Yes,” Bucky cuts in before she can form some modest version of that answer. She can always count on him to stump the opposition while she reloads. “That’s the day job. Doesn’t pay as well as whatever it is you guys have been doing. And oh! Odd hours, really odd. But it’s good work, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?”

She smiles, finding comfort in the warmth of his gaze. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a Personal Injury Lawyer.” Bucky smiles at that and fuck if that doesn’t just rile her up. “Oh! I almost forgot, this is my boyfriend—”

She’s cut off by Charles ‘Chickenshit’ Walton, “The Winter Soldier. We know who he is.”

“At least he’s a looker,” Seline snickers. “I’ll give you that.”

“The two of you make a great couple—The Winter Soldier and Static, ex assassin and ex assassin,” Candace adds with a snide smile. There’s more catty bullshit like that from the rest of the crowd but she kinda zones out.

And fuck it all to hell.

Her entire college life was avoiding these fools.

All her life she’d watched shows about the shitshow that is high school. She hadn’t attended it, of course but Harvard was supposed to be her first try. It was supposed to be her playing her hand at being utterly and completely normal, one with the crowd. College wasn’t supposed to be as brutal as highschool but not as uncaring as a desk job. It was supposed to be an easy middle between the two. Part of her was excited even. But the reality wasn’t all that movies made it out to be.

They were snobs, the fucking lot of them. Always looking at every tiny little detail, studying it a microscope, planning and scheming to find a chink in her armour just to break her down. She didn’t understand why then. Why they didn’t like her, why she was the outsider. Because despite everything she wasn’t exactly that different from them, not to their knowledge at least. Howie was fucking loaded, ipso facto she was too. None of them knew her past but everytime they looked at her their eyes were always hungry, always searching for some weakness.

She gets it now.

It wasn’t hunger. It wasn’t some twisted version of distrust.

It was straight up jealousy.

They were jealous of her.

They were jealous of her back then and if possible they are even more jealous of her now.

Y/n just laughs. She can’t help it, okay? It’s hilarious.

She really, genuinely believed at one point in her life that these fucking dipshits would figure out her secret, when all they were looking for was a way to top the class. These are some of the smartest individuals she’s come across—graduates of Harvard Law. Fuck! They were just kids fighting for brownie points when she was fighting for her freedom. God fucking damn it, she’s been so damn dumb. 

So she laughs.

Bucky looks at her for a second, raises his brow in concern. She waves her hand at him, letting him know she’s fine. It’s just funny.

“Something funny, Stark?” Archer asks, wearing a smile on his face that contradicts his tone which is just a little too shrill to be considered calm.

She shakes her head but continues chuckling.

“Don’t wanna share it with the rest of the class?” Charles bites. “Guess some things just don’t change.”

Y/n laughs a little harder. “My god, Charlie. You sure I’m the only one not aging here? Cause you sound like a sullen teenager.” She waves off his response before he can even form one. “Anyway, as I was saying, this is my boyfriend, Sergeant James Buchanon Barnes.” She drops a kiss on his cheek. “You can call him Sergeant Barnes… Well, except Milkovich. He’s just Barnes to you, Mick.”

Mickey seems pleased with her words, “Nice to meet you, Barnes.” He extends his hand to Bucky who takes it without hesitation. “Always thought your arm was really cool.” 

That one throws Bucky a little. He looks back at her, eyes big and a sneaky curve of his lip. It screams, ‘Where the fuck did you find this guy?’ But like she said, no filter on that one. 

“Why does Milkovitch get special treatment?” Seline rebukes her.

Y/n just shrugs. “Cause he wasn’t a dick to me in college?” Isn’t it obvious?

“Excuse me?” Candace exclaims like the hit was personal. “We were never anything but generous, which was more than what you deserved considering the shit you pulled.”

“One, that is wildly inaccurate. You were all dicks, all of you. But I don’t think I blame you for it, pompous kids do what pompous kids see. And two, what shit did I pull?” She waves at the bartender asking for a refill.

“You are seriously going to pretend you don’t know?” Archer throws back.

Taking the last sip from her drink she sets the now empty glass down on the nearest table. “Yes, enlighten me.”

“You were sleeping with Professor Keating to get the answers to all the tests,” Charles answers, disdain clear on his face.

“I—” She looks from his face to Bucky's, who feigns shock before breaking into a smile.

Charles cuts her off. “You hid it well enough but everyone knew you spent most of the free time between classes in his office. You scored well in every single one of his tests, which were impossible to crack and he was always so very eager to call on you in class.” He scoffs. “We were never able to find any concrete evidence to pin you down, we’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean we were naive enough not to see it.”

“I—” She begins laughing again. “Professor Keating.” Fuck.

“What’s so fucking funny, Stark?” Archer pushes her. Well, he tries but before he can grab the collar he was reaching for, Bucky’s metal arm is already pulling him off.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Bucky warns.

“Get your hands off me!” Archer tries to brush Bucky off, pushing him back, trying desperately to get out of his grip, but come on. It’s Bucky. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

“Saving you the ass beating of a lifetime, buddy boy. Be glad it’s me and not her,” Bucky comments causally as he twists Archer’s arm behind his back.

“It’s fine, Sunshine. Let him go,” she coos at him sweetly.

And because he’s Bucky, he urges Archer to take a few steps away from her and then simply lets him go.

“Are you still mentally unstable?! How dare you touch me? I’m gonna sue your Nazi ass for that!” Archer warns. 

“I mean, you can try. But he’s got a great lawyer,” Y/n tells him, grabbing her new drink from the waiter. She takes a sip. “Got him pardoned for countless assassinations. You think assault is where I lose that battle?” The blood drains from Archer’s face, all the color is gone. “And as for the Professor Keating matter,” she giggles again, before forcing herself to compose. “He was ex-KGB. I used to hang out with him after class to find out if he knew the updated location of HYDRA bases.”

“Ex-KGB?” Seline asks, just as pale as Archer.

“You expect us to buy that bullshit story? His name was Arthur Keating for Christ’s Sake!” Candace shouts.

“Which he changed when he asked for political asylum here. His real name was Boris Levitsky. His family was murdered by HYDRA when he couldn’t free some official high in their ranks. After that he was fairly willing to spill all about them,” Y/n explains.

“To a college student?” Charles question, clearly not buying it.

“To an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative,” she corrects.

“You were an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative back then?” Bucky asks her, reclaiming his position next to her with a steady arm around her waist.

“No,” she tells him. “But he didn’t know that.”

Bucky’s face breaks into a proud smile. The sprinkles of yellow around the venue seem to be attracted to her sun. They fall softly on his face, lighting up the curve of his cheekbones, the smile lines around his lips. He seems so much more comfortable in his skin than he used to before. And he shines brighter, if that was even possible. She thinks maybe she’ll have to carry sunglasses around from now on.

“How the fuck did you score so well then?” Seline question, furious at the revelation.

“Did you guys ever think maybe she’s just that fucking smart?” Bucky throws out, kissing her forehead. “My sweetheart’s a fucking genius!” He leans in closer. “A lesser man would be very intimidated by that, you know?”

He’s so close, she can taste his scent on the tip of her tongue. The smell of summer in the woods, and remnants of leather. It drives her insane.

“A lesser man, huh?” She teases. “You’re not intimidated by it then?”

“Oh I am,” he tells her. “Just not very intimidated.”

God, he’s so fucking beautiful.

“Hey! Lovebirds! We’re not done here,” Charles jumps in. 

Rolling her eyes and reluctantly turning back to face the asshat, she asks, “What do you want?”

“Winter Soldier here might think you’re all that, but I know better.” He looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust into flames purely out of anger. “You’re not that smart. Unlike you, some of us worked hard to get where we are. We didn’t rely on fake daddy’s money to make something of ourselves.”

Now that’s just stupid. “Charlie… Come on, man. Howard Stark was not my father, he was my best friend, I just needed a cover. And his money got me nowhere. And, and! The fucker went and got killed before I even graduated.” Bucky’s head falls at the mention, but her time at college was too closely knit to his passing for her to not mention it. “But even after all that if you think I got in because he bribed the board—I didn’t fucking graduate Summa Cum Laude by kicking my feet and batting my eyelashes. I barely came to college to even do that with perfect follow through. That was my dropping-acid-and-doing-fireball-shots phase. I’m surprised to be alive, honestly.” She takes a step towards him. “Maybe in retrospect it seems like everything was handed to me on a silver platter now that my life seems so glorious on the outside, but that wasn’t the case, dude. Part of me wanted to be a lawyer so I could fight for my freedom if the time ever came.”

“Freedom from what, Stark?!” He yells out. “Your life is fucking perfect! You’re an Avengers, governments step aside to make way for you. You’ve got a super hot boyfriend who can clearly throw a punch, what more could you possibly want?” 

Tony.

I want my brother back.

The answer is right there, on the tip of her tongue. But they don’t need to know it. They don’t really deserve it. Not their fault—most people don’t. 

So, instead she steps back, clasps her hands into Bucky’s. “Nothing, actually. You’re right. I couldn’t ask for more.” Someone in the back catches her eye then. “Lighten up, Charlie.” She looks around at the rest of them. “You’re supposed to be the brightest minds of the nation, not petty fucking 6th graders. Lighten the fuck up, kids. I assure you there are worse things to be than fucking Harvard graduates.” She pulls Bucky by the hand and this hunk of a man follows along without an ounce of hesitation, as always. She yells out without turning “I’d say it was nice to see you guys, but it really fucking wasn’t.” But then her steps halt. She turns, “All except you, Milkovitch. It really was nice to see you again. Call me sometime, we should catch up.”

“I don’t have your number,” Mickey replies innocently.

She smiles. “Fine then, I’ll call you.”

“You don’t have my number.”

Her smile just turns mischievous.

Mickey picks up instantly. “Of course,” he says, a little embarrassed. “World class spy—I forgot.”

Hugging the man quickly, she turns and grabs Bucky by the hand again and begins walking off.

“This was amazing! Let’s do this again next year,” Bucky yells out, waving at the gaping faces they’ve left behind.

“Shut up, James.” She hushes him without heat.

“Where you taking me, sweetheart?” He asks, but there is no real curiosity in his question.

So she says as much. “You don’t really seem that curious about it.”

“I’m asking for the fuck of it—to hear you talk. I love hearing you talk.”

“Sap.” She’s smiling.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t care where you take me,” he promises. 

They’ve stopped walking, her target is in her eyesight so she’s all too worried. So she takes the moment to drink him in.

“FUCKING SAP,” she chides, pushing him a little.

Bucky (pretends to) stumble. “Only for you. Always for you,” he tells her, honest and true. He covers the distance between them with a few short steps. His hand comes to caress her jaw, gently—always so gently. He leans in. His lips brush against her as he speaks, “Till the end of my days, sweetheart.”

“Till the end of mine,” she corrects him and then closes the gap.

The best thing about kissing Bucky is that it always feels like the first time. No matter however many times she kisses this boy, every time it feels overwhelmingly new. It feels like her mind is melting, like she’s turning to mush under his hands—one flesh, the other metal. He always knows how to give her exactly what he craves, maybe because she mostly just craves him.

With one hand on her cheek, the other on the small of her back, Bucky pulls her in closer. His tongue tastes of whiskey, but his lips are all him. They are delectable enough to eat. It takes everything in her not to bite down too hard. But she can’t resist the urge to pull his lip between her teeth, biting just hard enough to leave them red. He kindly obliges by slipping his tongue into the mix. He’s so hungry for her, he’s always so fucking hungry for her.

Absent-mindedly she thinks maybe he feels it too. The inexplicable newness in the repeated action of kissing each other. Because hunger like that—hunger like his, seems insatiable. She would give away all of herself to it. Let him consume her whole. She will do just that… Just not here, not now.

Reluctantly, with great strength and determination, she pulls herself away. 

Bucky, this fucker, whimpers. “What?” He whines.

She can’t help but chuckle. “I need to one thing then we can just get the fuck out of here and do more of that—a lot more of that.”

He pretends to think for a second but she already knows she’s won him over. “Fine,” he says after a beat. “What do you need?”

“An answer,” she tells him, before fixing herself a bit and walking over to the woman who’d caught her eye before. 

She’s a tall woman, short black hair—a pixie cut that she pulls off flawlessly. She’s standing alone, smoking in the open area of the venue, looking out at the scene ahead of them.

Y/n approaches her cautiously. “Jeri Hogarth,” she calls out, making the woman turn. “You’re a hard woman to reach.”

“Y/f/n Stark.” Jeri doesn’t even turn to look at her. She keeps on staring straight ahead, smoking. “Did you ever consider, maybe I didn’t want to be reached?”

Y/n lets go of Bucky’s hand, but not before giving it a gentle press as a promise to come back soon. She walks up next to Jeri. “I did consider that possibility, but couldn’t bring myself to care about it, unfortunately.”

And then, finally Jeri turns to look at her, “What do you need for me? I mean it must be something big if you decided to show up here.”

Y/n shrugs. “It’s not big, I wouldn't say. I think it’s more that it’s… urgent?” That seems to intrigue Jeri, she cocks her brow in question. And Y/n answers, “I need to speak with Danny Rand.”

That seems to throw Jeri off. “I—I don’t know where he is. Besides, if you want his business—”

“It’s not about Rand Enterprises, Hogarth.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. Nothing that fucking arbitrary would bring her here. “I want to talk to Danny’s friend. I want to talk to the Iron Fist.”

“I don’t—” Jeri looks like she’s at a loss for words which, yeah, a fairly new look on her. Y/n had very rarely seen Jeryn Hogarth lose her calm in class. They shared a lot of them, and while she wasn’t exactly kind to Y/n, she wasn’t unkind either.

“I know that you know, Jeri. I also know about Jessica Jones and… Kilgrave.” Y/n doesn’t want to be unkind to her either. “I am sorry about what happened…” Jeri just looks away. “I wouldn’t ask you if it was important, and I wouldn't be looking for Danny if it wasn’t urgent. But I need to talk to him.”

“And you think I can help?” Jeri challenges, finally finding her ground.

But Y/n isn’t here for a fight. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t know you could.”

“Why should I?”

“I don’t have a very good reason for that. I don’t think I have anything of value to you that I could even barter with? But I’ll owe you one,” Y/n offers.

“You’ll owe me one?” She asks, unconvinced.

Y/n shrugs. “Yes.”

“And that’s supposed to be good enough?”

For the second time tonight, Y/n just wears a mischievous smile with furrowed brows. 

Jeri seems to understand her without any words being spoken. “Yeah. That’s good enough.” She nods. “Okay, I can try to get a message to him, but there is no guarantee that he’ll respond.”

“He’ll respond,” Y/n answers easily.

Jeri eyes her suspiciously. “So, what’s the message?”

“Just tell him we need to talk,” Y/n answers.

“That’s all?”

“What else am I supposed to fucking say? The peacock rests peacefully in the moonlight?! This isn’t Mission Impossible. I’m not Tom Cruise. I just wanna talk to the dude,” Y/n rebukes.

“Fine,” Jeri tries to calm her down half-heartedly, turning back to the view ahead of her.

“Thanks, Hogarth,” Y/n says one last time before heading out.

Jeri takes out a fresh cigarette and lights it. “Just remember you owe me one.”

With that out of the way, Bucky and Y/n leave the reunion of the class of '92, hand in hand. It’s much later when they’re out for ice cream does Bucky ask the question she had been anticipating the entire night.

“Something was off tonight—before the whole sleeping with the teacher thing.” 

She chuckles at his words. “Was there?” She asks.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t let her dodge it. “You wanna talk about it?” He does give her the option to opt out. He’s so considerate, how can she deny him anything?

They are sitting on the curb outside the 24 hour ice cream shop. They are bathed in the harsh light from the streetlight. Bucky, she thinks, somehow manages to still look pretty in that. He has a chocolate ice-cream cone in his hand that’s melting away at a matching speed to the vanilla cone in hers. They’d spent a little too long lost in each other’s mouths to focus on the ice-cream in a timely fashion. Both of them are now trying to furiously make up for that.

It takes her a moment to find the words. “I… It’s hard looking around at the room and seeing so many people who are… who are…”

“Old?” Bucky supplies again.

She shakes her head, laughing and trying to lick the ice cream off the cone—save it from falling. “No, Jamie. Not that.”

“Then?” He prompts, leaning to lick the leftover ice cream off her fingers.

Taking in a long breath, she musters up her courage and begins. “Tony’s the same age as Milkovitch. Or well, Tony would have been.” Bucky’s eyes turn softer in an instant. “It’s weird to see it—people who used to be young, who used to look like me, a crowd that I could have blended into seamlessly become old and gray. I mean, I lived it with Tony but I was there to see it day in and day out. He aged in front of my eyes, so it felt—it felt…”

“Natural?” Bucky offers.

And yeah. Yeah, it did. So, she nods. “Natural,” she agrees. “I remember when I noticed his first gray hair,” she laughs. “I freaked the fuck out but I didn’t want to tell him, cause that seemed fucking shallow, you know? I tried to hide it but man, I don’t think I was doing a good job ‘cause two days later the poor kid had dyed it black—that one single strand.” Bucky laughs too. “I think he figured out why it was freaking me out and that was his way of—I don’t know—calm me down, maybe?” She clicks her tongue at the thought. “The wrinkles were an easy adjustment. It began with smile lines, crinkles around his eyes every time he’d laugh at a joke, so it was…”

“Comforting?” Bucky suggests, once again giving her the words she can’t seem to find.

She rests her head on his shoulder then, “Yes. It was okay after that—especially after Pepper. Watching him age began feeling like a privilege. It felt like he was growing old instead of, you know, dying?”

Bucky nods. “Are you worried about that now? With me?” She punches him in the side. “FUCK! What was that for?”

She pulls back to face him, “I am not thinking about that shit yet!”

“Oh I’m sorry!” Bucky yells out annoyed and animated. “I was just drawing the LOGICAL conclusion to the conversation, but of course, that was stupid.”

“You’re such a little shit, James,” she rebukes him, shoving him and getting back on her feet.

“I’m a shit?! What did I do?!” He gets up as well. “We keep making grand promises about how we’ll love each other to the end of your days because you’ll obviously live longer.”

“BUCKY, DON’T SAY THAT!” She begins walking towards their motorbike parked in the parking lot.

He follows behind, “It’s not breaking news, Y/n! It’s inevitable.”

“Bucky!”

“But I have a plan!”

That makes her halt. She turns to face him, he almost runs into her. “What’s the plan?”

He smiles all cheeky and insolent. “Freeze me for a decade once in a while.” She can’t believe her ears.”Put me in the fridge every ten years or so for a decade and then pull me out. I’m also open to being in the freezer for a year with a two year gap in the middle as well.” She wants to punch him again. “I haven’t done the math on which will make me live longer but both will definitely extend my lifespan significantly.” She is going to punch him again. “I age a little slower anyway, this was I think we could extend this relationship into the next millennium at leas—” She punches him again. “FUCK! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ONE FOR NOW?” 

Turning around, she begins walking off again. “You’re not ice-cream, Jamie. I’m not fucking freezing you!” She cans the ice-cream in her hand, having lost her appetite.

He follows her again. “I have another plan!”

“Shut up, Barnes!”

“What if we ask Banner to make me body like you guys did for Vision?! Put my consciousness in there?” Bucky asks as they reach their motorbike.

She pulls out the keys, handing them off to Bucky. “What made him capable of emotions was the Mind Stone, you got any spare of those lying around?”

Bucky hops on the bike and then thinks for a second, “Steve told me you guys put Zola in a big computer kinda thing.” She gets on behind him. “What if we did that? I know our sex life might suffer but—”

She punches him right under his ribs..

“STOP FUCKING PUNCHING ME! These ideas are golden.”

She punches him again.

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