#WHY DID YOU HAVE YOUR CONFERENCE TODAY
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buckyalpine · 26 days ago
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You know what I was thinking of all day? Comforting our sad baby Bucky who just wants a hug. He's tired from a bad mission. His body aches. He saw things he didn't want to. He could really just use something.
Even just a smile?
He doesn't have a lot of friends and most people around the compound outside of the team avoid him. Even those who'd worked with him for ages were still wary, scared he'd snap if they just asked how he's doing. He would have liked it, even just a hello in passing. When he walks by with a scowl on his face, no one meets his eye. If they did, they would have seen the storm that was brewing inside was not an angry one.
He just needed to be held.
When he continues to make his way towards his room, he's given a few nods from a couple of teammates but he knows they're doing it while holding their breath. He reaches his room and the damn is about to break, he hasn't been held in years, he feels so cold and empty, was he really so terrifying, no one would-
"Sergeant Barnes?"
A gentle voice calls for him, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. He knows that voice, mustering his best smile as he turns around to find Tony's lab assistant with a cup of chamomile tea in his mug and a file with the mission report he was supposed to fill out.
"Everyone's filling their reports in the conference room, I figured you'd rather have some privacy so I thought I'd bring it to you" You give him the same warm smile you grace everyone with, handing him the steaming cup, "and of course, your favourite"
It's too much. Normally it wouldn't be but he's never given such kindness but he always gets it from you. You're so unbelievably affectionate to everyone and he really doesn't feel worthy but today he needs it so he graciously accepts the tea and file with a soft thank you.
"and call me Bucky, doll"
You stiffen at the slight crack in his voice, frowning when he keeps his eyes trained to the floor. It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep to himself but you catch his reddened nose and glassy baby blues and it breaks your heart.
He opens the door to enter his room ready to drown in a lonely storm when that voice calls again. Surely he was dreaming. He sets down his things, turning to find you still at his door.
"Bucky?" You enter his room, standing before him when he doesn't ask you to leave, "Are you okay?"
He doesn't trust himself, nodding and desperately blinking back tears. He wished you'd leave, he wished you'd stay, he wished he could just tell you what he needed, his hands fisted into balls by his side, he should just suck it up, what was he expecting-
"Come here" You whisper, your hand coming to cradle the back of his head, bringing it to rest into your neck where he can let go, your arms wrapping around his body.
Bucky doesn't get a chance to realize what's happening because as soon as he feels your touch the first sob escapes. He's hidden himself away in your hold, his tears wetting your skin with no remorse. He clings onto you like a lifeline while you coo and comfort him, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.
You don't let go, allowing him to cry for as long as he needs. Even after his cries turn into sniffles, you comfort him, pressing a kiss to his temple while he holds you extra tight.
When he's finally ready to let go, albeit reluctantly, he's instantly shused from trying to apologize. You don't ask questions asking what happened or why he was upset. It really didn't matter. You just knew. Bucky whispers a thank you, making a mental note to get you some flowers to properly showed you how much he appreciated it.
Of course you'd always just know when he needed it so he'd thank you again with coffee.
Dinner.
Dinner again.
Eventually, a ring.
You always knew what he needed.
A hug.
That was all.
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bbkoolkatz · 1 month ago
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wife. god he loves using that word. he's giving your order at Starbucks? my wife wants the usual, making reservations? yeah, my wife and i... at press conferences when they asked him a question, he always happen to mention his beautiful, gorgeous, amazing 'n smart wife.
he gave zero fucks about the context too—his latest victory, plans for the future, or questions about his fav food?— katsuki never misses an opportunity to mention you. so much so that the reporters started to bet on how quickly he'd bring you up...
today was no exception. he leaned against the podium, the scowl on his face doing little to hide how much he didn't want to be there as cameras flashed in his face and reporters shouted over each other for his attention. until he pointed at one, to hear what their goddamned question is.
"dynamite, what are your thoughts on the new collaboration between, heroes and the local government officials?" he held out his voice recorder.
the crowd went mute, cocking their ears for his response, waiting... his crimson eyes filtered the room, flickering between everyone before they landed on you —in the far corner of the back of the room— smiling proudly, gesturing for him to answer the question.
"anythin' that keeps people safe 's a good thing." he starts, "my wife's always said that we needed to team up more, 'n she's smarter than you lot put together, so..." and shruggs, like its most obvious... you facepalm at his need to bring their ego down.
the reporters scribbled away in their notebooks and laptops, mumbling between themselves, some even giggling here and there, before he pointed to someone else.
"bakugo-san, what's your opinion on the rising popularity of the hero support courses in schools?" she asked, holding back a snicker, as she purposely asks a question where it'd be near impossible for him to mention you. or so she thought...
"support 's what keeps most of us heroes out there alive." he says, matter of factly, pointing to his gauntlets on the side of the podium, "my wife'd drill a hole in my head if i didn't give 'em credit. 'every cog in the machine matters' 'n whatever the hell else." he huffs, and your face heats up a bit, seeing him standing tall and proud up there, while he quoted your words.
the murmurs grew louder, as they placed their bets once again... someone raised their hand and stood to ask their question. "mr. dynamight, do you have any plans to expand your work internationally?" he adjusts his glasses, looking down to his clipboard, waiting for your husband's response.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah, eventually. what else would you expect when yer as good as me?" wait for it... "plus, my wife's been on my ass 'bout goin' to europe. says she wants to see paris too, 'n 'm not about tell her no." the crowd laughs, more amongst themselves than what the hero was saying. he could care less about what ever the fuck they were mumbling about and walked off the stage.
he's had enough. he answered a few of their questions like you'd asked and now he wanted his wife, so he stomped his way over to you, "did you have to insult them at the end of the first question?" you laugh, patting at his toned chest.
"insult 'em? i answered their question..." he pulled you in as you giggled, kissing you while he rubbed your waist. every camera zoomed in on you both and he reveled in the flashing lights, smirking into your lips as he dragged the kiss on and lifted your hand where the ring he put there shined. he wife'd you up why would he not show you off?
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mlist!
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purple-obsidian · 6 months ago
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appearances (18+, dick grayson x fem reader) wc 6.7k
⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors. special shoutout to @janybabyy for helping me edit this monstrosity. reader is a member of the titans, afab, uses she/her pronouns, and has an established friendship with dick.
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Dick's arm is draped around your waist, holding your body close while his enchanting laughter rings in your ear, reacting to a story being told by the other couple sharing the elevator.
"I'm telling the truth! Swear on my life, he actually said that!" The man across from you says, grinning and chuckling. A soft ding grabs your attention, and you clear your throat, looking up at Dick with a soft smile.
"Well, this is our floor. We'll see you in the morning!" You promise, letting Dick pick up your suitcase for you and lead the way. You make your way down the hallway, reading the room numbers as you get closer to the one the receptionist scribbled on your key card. You feel exhausted, and after a long day of pretending to be a happy couple with your teammate, you're happy that it's finally time to rest. You retrieve the room key from your pocket when you finally reach your door, and open it wide for Dick so he can carry your bags in.
You flick the light switch on, taking in the cheap carpeting, generic artwork, and a single queen bed centered on the far wall. "Um... Dick?"
"Hm?" He turns to you, looking just as tired as you feel, no longer fronting as an excited newly-wed. "What is it?"
"Didn't you request a room with two beds?"
His bright blue eyes dart to the singular bed, shoulders slumping in defeat when he realizes there was a mix up in your reservation. "Shit. Lemme call the front desk."
"They're probably full," you comment, letting yourself fall into one of the chairs by the window, sinking down with a tired sigh and kicking off your heels, "Between the convention and the concert this weekend, I'll be shocked if they have any other rooms free."
Dick ignores you, setting down your luggage and walking over to the corded phone on the bedside table. He picks up the receiver, punches the button for guest services, and waits patiently for them to answer. You take a deep breath, relaxing and letting your mind wander as he speaks with the operator, who confirms that there are no more rooms available.
Dick hangs up the phone with a grumble, glancing behind him to look at you.
"Told you so." You chide, a playful grin on your lips.
"I'm sorry," Dick plops himself down on the side of the bed and groans. "There isn't even a pull-out couch."
"We'll be fine," You tell him dismissively, yawning and stretching your hands over your head, "It's only a few nights."
"I can sleep on the floor if you'd be more comfortable that way," He offers, rubbing his eyes.
"As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we'll be fine."
The first night you share a bed, Dick does keep his hands to himself. You're both so exhausted that you fall into a deep sleep almost immediately, making your proximity less awkward. You toss and turn here and there, but otherwise, the night goes on without issue.
The second night is another story.
After another long day of working undercover as newlyweds attending a couples conference, you and Dick are at each other's throats over a disagreement regarding the innocence of the man leading it. You both act your part all day. You kiss his cheek when others are looking. Dick makes an pointed effort to be handsy, ensuring he's touching you in some way whenever appropriate. But once you're in the privacy of the hotel room, the masks come down, and you are at each other's throats, arguing in hushed tones and bickering over what you observed today.
"Why the fuck did you invite me along on this mission if you didn't want my opinion?" You ask harshly, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace as you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to remove it so you can shower.
"I couldn't have come alone! It would have been suspicious, and Donna was busy, so you were my only option!"
"Gee, thanks Dick. That makes me feel real good about myself." You hiss, fumbling again with the tiny clasp, "Why couldn't you bring Wally?"
"You know our suspect is homophobic, if I showed up with a man as my partner there's no way I'd be able to get close enough to him!" Dick notices you struggling with your necklace. He sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Need some help with that?"
"Fuck off," You mumble dismissively, giving up your efforts, "Screw it, I'll just leave it on."
You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, throwing it angrily to the ground. Dick watches, eyes widening a little, unable to stop himself from checking you out and admiring the lacy bra you're wearing, his anger diffusing.
"You mind? I need to shower, give me some privacy," You snap, waving your hand at him dismissively.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Dick growls, coming up behind you, sandwiching your body between him and the vanity, “Hold still.”
You huff, but relax and accept his help remove the chain. His hands are warm against your neck, quickly unclasping the lock and setting the necklace down next to you. You choose to ignore the way his eyes wander, admiring your reflection in the mirror.
“Thanks,” You grumble, your annoyance quickly subsiding, but you keep your eyes narrowed at him.
Maybe you are a bit stubborn.
“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up, okay? I gotta shower too,” He reminds you before leaving the bathrrom, stealing one last glance at your half naked body and closing the door behind him.
Feeling bitter, you take your time with an extra long, extra hot shower, shaving your legs, exfoliating, deep conditioning your hair, not caring if you’re being petty. You linger, too, lotioning your whole body and applying your hair products, not missing a single step in your routine.
When you finally exit the steamy bathroom, Dick is sitting at the small desk in your room, doing something on his laptop. You walk out in your robe, smoothing your freshly washed hair and making your way over to your suitcase.
“Took you long enough,” Dick comments, giving you a pointed side-eye.
“Sorry,” You mumble, rummaging around for your sleep clothes, “All yours now.”
Waiting until he finishes up and locks himself in the bathroom, you quickly change and crawl into your side of the bed, cozying up to the pillow that smells faintly of bleach. You relax, listening to the muffled sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He's quick enough that you're still awake when he's done. Dick exits the bathroom, hair dripping wet, wearing nothing but his boxers.
"You used all the hot water."
You peek an eye open to glare at him, resenting his accusation, "It's a hotel, Dick. It's going to take a lot more than my twenty minute shower to make the whole building run out of hot water. Maybe you just don't know how to work the faucet."
You notice him shivering, and a pang of guilt eats away at you. But you stand by what you said.
"You took at least 30 minutes. And are you kidding me? You think I'm the type of guy that can't figure out a faucet?"
"Well, no, before this little trip of ours, I didn't think that. But seeing as you can't figure out our guy is guilty when the evidence is laid out in front of you like Thanksgiving dinner, my opinion on your intelligence might be changing."
He grinds his teeth, popping his jaw and clenching his fists at his side until his knuckles crack, "Shoulda brought Wally."
You lift your head so you can glare at him with both eyes, but Dick is already grabbing the comforter and sheet to yank them off the bed, leaving you shivering and exposed.
"Whatthefuck?!" You shriek, pulling your knees to your chest reflexively at the rush of cold air.
Dick jumps onto the bed, pulling the blankets over both of you, and with little effort he pulls your body against his, "I'm fucking freezing." He hisses through gritted teeth, "And I'm about to make it your problem.”
The chill radiating off of his stone-cold chest and body quickly seeps through the thin cotton of your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Flinching, you shiver and claw at the edge of the bed to pull yourself away from him. "Dick! G-Get off of me! This isn't f-funny!" You stammer in desperation.
"No, it isn't."
You long for the satisfaction of smacking the smirk off of him. You can't even see his face since your back is to him, but when you hear his taunting, you just know the cocky bastard is smiling. His strong, cold arms force your back to go flush with his chest again as he wrestles with you, utilizing his jiu-jitsu skills to pin you under him and prevent you from escaping his grasp.
"GET. OFF!!" You yell again.
Dick promptly slaps his right hand over your mouth, bringing his lips to your ear and shushing you. "Remember, we're in a hotel. People could hear you if you screamed. Last thing we need to do is blow our cover."
You groan and struggle to shake your head free of his hand, which is fruitless, but Dick takes pity on you and removes his hand after watching you struggle for a moment.
"This is assault, you know," You growl at him angrily, "You're h-holding me against my will."
"Oh please, I've done worse to you during training. You're fine. Just let me hold you for a minute until I can warm up. You owe me that much," Dick holds you closer to him, and he isn't lying, He really is as cold as an ice cube. Keeping you pinned against the bed, he holds you, fearful that you'll shy away and refuse to share your body heat. But you know when you're beat. The soft spot you have for him trumps your annoyance, and you accept your fate.
You really didn't mean to make him suffer, you just took a tad longer washing yourself than normal. Could it really be your fault that there was no hot water? You take these next few minutes of discomfort to ponder the specifics of hotel plumbing, doing anything to distract yourself from the chill.
Dick notices the subtle shift as you try to relax your body and regulate your breathing. There's something in the way you feel, your body going from tense and combative to calm and still under him, that makes his heartbeat stay elevated, even after he finally starts to warm up.
'She trusts me.' He thinks to himself, 'Or at least, she knows when to give up.'
Several minutes pass by, neither of you asleep, but not speaking. Only the sounds of your breathing are audible in the stillness of the hotel room. Dick starts to feel guilty, now that his body temperature is back to normal, and lifts himself off of you to lay on his back.
"I'm sorry," He says quietly, brows furrowed in thought, "I shouldn't have done that."
Now it's your turn to seek body heat. You let out an involuntary whimper, so soft that you're hoping Dick didn't hear it. "Wait," Your hand finds his chest in the dark, and you pull yourself up so your head is laying directly over his heart, "You might be all warmed up, but I'm still cold."
Your feet, which weren't touching him before, are particularly chilly, so you take this opportunity to press them against his bare leg. Dick tenses in response, but he doesn't push you off of him.
"I deserve this," He whispers in a tone of defeat.
"You're so dramatic," You whisper back.
"And you're more stubborn than the Bat."
"Ouch."
"Am I wrong?"
"I'm not answering that."
"Exactly," He says with a hint of pride.
"Just shut up and warm up, I'm tired," You try to sound firm, but despite your best efforts, your voice sounds sleepy and content.
"You know, maybe I should keep a hold of you all night, to stop you from tossing and turning."
"M'not that bad," You grumble, "You'll survive."
But you soon fall asleep on his chest. Your breathing gets slower and deeper, and you finally relax into a pleasant slumber. Dick isn't far behind you. He is scared to admit to himself how good it feels to have you in his arms. He chalks it up to the fact that he's been pretending to be your husband since you got here, denying anything deeper, and lets his mind shut down and rest, falling asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.
Several hours later, you wake with a start, eyes popping open as you suck in a deep breath. You were having a bizarre dream, but thankfully your less-than-graceful awakening hasn’t seemed to of bothered your teammate, who you realize has shifted in the night. He’s now spooning you, his arm around your waist and his face nuzzled against your neck.
A heat creeps into your cheeks as you hazily register the intimacy of the position you’re in. You carefully attempt to untangle yourself from him, but you quickly realize your arm is asleep, and you curse to yourself as the uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation prickle your nerves.
You wiggle your arm, the blood flow slowly returning, not noticing how your movement is making your ass bump against the man behind you.
Dick’s eyes flutter open, awakened by the soft swaying of your body as you struggle to get your arm functioning like normal. He mutters your name groggily, and you curse yourself for waking him.
"Sorry, Dick. I'm warm now, you can let go of me," You say softly.
In his half-asleep state, Dick exhales an audible groan, moving his arm so he can stretch out. You think you're free, but he quickly replaces it back over your waist before he pulls you snug against his body. "Could we stay like this? Feels nice." His voice is hoarse and gravely from sleep, which triggers a dangerous shift in your thoughts. His strong arms feel good wrapped around you. He smells good. You're comfortable, now that your arm is awake, and you notice something poking at your lower back when he pulls you even closer to him.
The heat you felt in your cheeks travels down to pool in your belly, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache you feel.
'Stop it. This won't end well. He's hot, but he's your friend. Just your friend...'
You capture your lip between your bottom teeth and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, we can stay like this," You finally say, "But you need to tell your little friend to calm down."
"Hm?" Dick perks up at your comment, trying to make sense of what you said while his brain is still not fully awake.
"You're hard. It's distracting."
"Woah, hey. Who are you calling little? That's a low blow, you wouldn't even have any way of knowing that."
"I can feel you right now Dick. S'gross. We can cuddle if you want but I don't want your hard-on stabbing me while-"
"This feel little to you?" He interrupts, shifting you higher so he can grind his boner against your ass, with only his boxers and your silky sleep shorts separating you.
It doesn't. Now that he's doing it intentionally, you realize how much he's packing down there, which makes you stammer a little as you squirm against him, trying to quell the arousal building in your abdomen. "Jeez- okay, point taken. Now quit it," You chide, hoping you sound firm.
"Sure you want me to quit?" He's fully awake now. You can tell by the confidence in his tone when he taunts you, "Something tells me you're enjoying this. I've seen the way you've been looking at me."
His lips are merely an inch from your ear as he whispers to you, making your heart beat faster in your chest and your brain starts to panic. "Of course I've been looking at you differently. We're pretending to be a couple. We're undercover. It's called acting."
"Can I tell you a secret?" His hand starts to play with the hem of your shirt, rough hands barely brushing the small bit of exposed skin as the fabric bunches up on your waist.
"W-what?" You ask, briefly wondering if you're dreaming.
"Donna wasn't busy," He murmurs, running the tip of his nose up and down your neck slowly as he tries to entice you. "I wanted you here with me."
"That's a lie," You chide back without much thought. You know Dick and Donna are best friends, there's no way he would choose you over her for a mission like this, right?
Right?
He ignores your accusation like he didn't hear it. "You really want me to stop?" Dick presses his hand against your stomach, caressing your soft skin and nudging his nose against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll let you have the bed to yourself."
"I... I mean...y-you don't need to, I don't want... don't sleep on the floor, please."
"Because you like this? Don't you?" His hand sneaks further up your torso, until his fingertips brush against the underside of your breast. "Don't tell me these past few days haven't felt right to you. I barely feel like I've had to act."
"Are you kidding? We've been bickering every moment we're alone!" You argue back. You're grateful for the dark, which hides how wide your eyes are from how he's touching you.
"Don't mean about the mission. I meant you and me. Having you on my arm. Calling you mine. The way you kiss me- I wish you'd kiss me like that when we're alone, instead of fighting," He admits, tentatively grinding his hips into your ass as he speaks. "You looked so pretty in that dress, earlier. That color looks amazing on you."
This is a lot for you to process. Sure, Dick is attractive. You'd be stupid to deny it. But he's your friend, has been for a while. You work together, and you've tried to not let your mind go down that path, not wanting to mess up the opportunity of a lifetime, to be a hero and work alongside him and the other Titans. But when he talks about how right these past couple days have felt, you have a hard time denying it. Yeah, you were acting, but it did come easy. His smile is heart-warming. His touch feels safe. And having him wait on you hand and foot has made you feel pretty special, even if you were under the impression that it was all performative.
Dick pauses his movements when you take a while to respond to him, second-guessing himself. He says your name softly, before asking, "Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?"
The answer is no.
So why is it so hard to say out loud?
Nervous, Dick shifts away from you and retracts his hand, guiding you onto your back so he can see you properly. The look of uncertainty on him is rare. The man's confidence is nearly impenetrable, but now he's got a sinking feeling in his stomach, worried that he just crossed a line that you didn't want him to cross.
"Dick..." You mutter, shifting around to help him so you're face-to-face. His features are barely visible, illuminated only by the soft red glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. But you don't need the light to see him. His face is permanently etched into your mind, handsome and chiseled, your brain filling in the gaps left by the darkness.
You're running out of time. You can make out his expression fall, sense the change in energy each moment you leave him hanging. Deciding to take the future implications out of the picture, like how it will affect your dynamic on the team, how awkward this might make things in the future- you ignore all of that, and ask yourself, 'Do I want to sleep with him? Right Now? In this moment?'
The vigilante's confidence returns when you finally lean in to capture his mouth in a kiss. You bump your nose against his, and he chuckles, relieved as his hand finds your cheek to guide your mouth to his again.
The feeling is surreal, kissing him. You feel like you knew him pretty well before this trip. You know how he likes his tea. You know his favorite places, and understand his subtle, snarky humor. You're even familiar with his scent, after many missions and even more training sessions, physical contact is not anything new between the two of you.
His taste is new. His lips are foreign, but gentle, skilled, like he knows exactly what he's doing when his kisses you, relishing in the feeling, slow and sensual as his tongue slides across your bottom lip, teasing you until your part your lips and allow him deeper. Dick pulls you on top of him, relaxing on his back, his hands holding you by the waist, itching to trail lower and grip your plush ass that's been teasing him all night.
The needy almost-moan that escapes his throat as he exhales is new, too. You've heard him express pain and discomfort, you know what sounds he makes when he's hurt, recognize his brash grunts while fighting, able to judge how badly he's hurt by the sounds he makes. But the noises he's making now aren't like those. They seem more raw, more intense, and he's doing a good job of making you swoon.
His taste, his noises, being the object of his desire, this is all new territory. The surreal feeling doesn't go away, even as his kisses get more intense and his hands start to wander. You're straddling him, forearms resting against his chest while you two make out. He laps at your mouth, tongue against yours, encouraged by every little sigh and broken whimper that you make.
You're grateful for the darkness. It helps quell your insecurities, and you push the doubts about your decision far away. With your hands against his bare chest, you're able to feel his heart beat, strong and even, solidifying the feeling of closeness between you.
"You're so soft," He whispers between greedy kisses. His fingertips caress the exposed skin of your lower back, becoming increasingly more annoyed by the clothing that's keeping your skin from him.
A brief feeling of guilt plagues your mind, knowing your skin is extra soft because of the long shower you took earlier, with the goal of annoying him. Who knew that taking the time to exfoliate and use lotion would end up doing the opposite, spurring him on, making your skin that much more enticing.
You sink your hips down, rubbing yourself against the tent in his boxers. "You're so hard." You say back to him. You meant to sound teasing, but his all-encompassing kisses have you breathless and panting.
Dick chuckles at you, also breathless, finally letting his hands grip the silky material of your sleep shorts, squeezing and massaging your ass. You push yourself up a bit to look down at him. The red numbers of the alarm clock cast an eerie glow over the side of his face, the other half dark in shadow. But you still detect the obvious lust in his gaze. He squeezes you, grabby hands slipping under your shorts to feel you better and force your clothed cunt to grind against his throbbing erection.
"You have no idea how hot you are," He blurts out, bucking his hips up to drive the point home. "You in that dress this morning, fuck, if you were mine for real... I wouldn't have let you leave this room before fucking you senseless in it."
His low, urgent tone, gravely and strained, sends a jolt of heat to your cunt, your arousal soaking through your underwear. Hearing him, Dick Grayson, NIghtwing, say such things about you? And you can tell he means it. He's a good liar, but you know him well enough by know to tell he's being sincere. You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but he's already rambling on, hands traveling from your ass back up to your waist, easing your shirt up and over your head, careful not to mess up your hair.
"The neckline is what did it, I think," he continues. His pupils dilate when he drinks you in, straining to see as much of you as possible. You're sitting up now, shuddering when his warm hands cup your breasts, handling them like you're made of glass. "I couldn't stop staring. I wasn't the only one, either."
"Dick-"
"I've been thinking about this ever since. All evening. Been going crazy." His thumbs brush over your nipples, which are already hard from the arousal you feel building inside. "Got me all worked up. Like a teenager with a crush."
You bring your hands to his, resting over them as he fondles your chest. The gentle squeeze you offer encourages him to keep going, moving your hips to rub against him, searching for some friction to satisfy your need.
"I doubt the dress did all that," You challenge.
"Yet here we are."
"You pleased with yourself?" You yelp as soon as the question leaves your mouth. Dick chose that moment to pinch your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer fingers, squeezing and toying with them, moving his hips against you when your grinding falters.
"Yeah, I am."
Dick removes his hands from your chest to pull you flush against him, grabbing your left leg to help flip you over so you're on your back, settling on his knees between your legs. This shift in control has your mind racing, still wondering if this is all just a dream. If it is, you aren't ready to wake up.
Dick's sitting straight up, smirking down at you, reaching for your ankle. He guides your leg up so your foot is next to his head, and places a slow, wet kiss against your ankle bone.
"Let's get these off of you." He takes your other leg, lifting it in the same manner, so he's able to remove your shorts. You raise your hips to help, allowing him to take your remaining clothes off and toss them to the other end of the bed. He kisses the same spot on your other ankle and rests your legs on either side of his head while his strong hands caress your calves. It almost feels like he's showing you a new martial arts technique, the way he moves and is so at ease manipulating your body. You're used to it, to humbling yourself around him and letting him share his skills, never too proud to learn from a friend and mentor. You swear you've actually been in a very similar position with him before, too, just with more clothing. And also, several spectators.
His warm, fervent kisses continue down towards your knee, slowly savoring every inch of skin he can reach, and adjusting his position once he cannot. Your chest rises and falls quickly in anticipation, nervous but excited to see this new side of him.
This isn't something you were expecting to happen this trip.
You stifle a needy moan when he reaches your inner thighs. Muscular body now flush against the bed, he licks at the sensitive skin there, just inches from your pussy that's dripping for him, aching for attention.
"H-Holy shit..." You curse, moving your hips to try and get his mouth closer to where you need him most. If him kissing your leg feels this sensuous, you're weak over the idea of having his mouth on your core.
Dick hums in satisfaction at how worked up you're getting. Peeling his lips away from the soft skin of your thigh, he purses his lips into a small 'o' to blow a breath over your slick, feverish skin.
You're mortified at the loud whine that departs your lips, shivering in both chill and embarrassment. Your legs tense, squeezing together reflexively around his head.
Dick mutters your name, cursing under his breath at your reaction. He carefully pries your legs apart again, holding them in place, kissing your inner thigh again.
"Huh. You liked that?"
"Please, Dick, you're teasing me."
You feel his lips curve into a smile against you, leaving your thigh and licking a slow, long stripe along your pussy, catching some of your slick on his tongue. Your breathing hitches, eyes closing again, moaning his name with your hands on either side of your head gripping the pillow.
The tip of his nose nudges against your clit before he kisses you there, the same way he was kissing your mouth a minute earlier. Slow at first, building up to using more tongue, testing different movements until he feels your legs quiver. The heat you felt before has grown to a roaring fire, your lower body sensitized from his attention and aching for more.
His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub over and over in a steady rhythm. It becomes harder and harder not to wiggle against him. He's still keeping you in place, but his grip isn't harsh, at least not until he finds just the right angle. Your hips jerk almost violently when he presses his skilled tongue harder against your core, your hands flying to his head to grip his hair. "Oh fuck... please... shit shit sh....." You tremble, words fading away to nothing while your teammate keeps eating your cunt like its his favorite dessert.
Muffled hums and moans are mingled with your sighs and gasps. His tongue dips down to lap languidly at your entrance. You feel painfully empty at this point, ignoring the bewilderment you feel deep down about how easily Dick has reduced you to a whining mess. Fingernails scratching his scalp, your inner muscles convulse and tense, nerves alive with every touch and heated kiss.
Dick is a curious guy. He always has been. It's what makes him such a good detective, and an even better hero. And right now? He's curious about you, making a mental note of what noises and gasps he can coax from you when he moves his tongue faster or slower. He experiments with quick, feather light licks to tease you, then uses more pressure, rubbing his tongue flat against your soft skin and moving in circles, noting your reactions to each technique. His saliva drips from his mouth to mix with your slick, which he greedily licks back up, no shame in his enthusiasm.
After several torturous minutes of him working you, he's got your legs quivering and your mind fuzzy, your pride long forgotten, unable to resist the urge to plead for more.
"Please?" You beg him, "I just want... fuck, please, Dick, I need it."
His hands grip you tight for a beat before he releases you. "I need you too, baby, fuck, feel how wet you are." You offer no resistance when his hand takes yours and places it between your legs. "Touch yourself, yeah... there you go... play with that pretty pussy for me, hm?" His deep voice vibrates in your head, sending a fresh rush of lust through your veins.
Pushing himself up, Dick reaches over you towards the bedside table to retrieve the goodie bag that the front desk was handing out for the couples retreat.
"Glad we can actually put this stuff to use," He mumbles, face better illuminated now that he's next to the alarm clock. He retrieves a condom and a single-use lube sample from the deep red gift bag, and you groan in embarrassment again.
"Shhh, hey, just keep touching yourself. It's fine, unless you brought other condoms?" He asks, already guessing your answer.
"Why would I bring condoms? I wasn't expecting this to happen," You reply, watching him rip the foil wrapper.
"Huh. Me either." He slips his boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. You squint, trying to see the outline of his junk in the dark. He looks big. Big enough that when he slides the rubber over his shaft, it only makes it about 3/4th of the way down.
"It's kind of tight," He informs you, now opening up the lube sample and working the viscous liquid over himself. "But I'm pretty good about making big things fit in tight spaces."
The grin on your face is instant, cringing at his joke and shaking your head. "Would you shut up and fuck me, already?"
"Gods, yes."
His reply sounds pained, filled with longing, enough that you briefly question how long he's wanted this. You want to ask, but Dick is a man of his word, and before you can utter your question out loud, his hands are pressing your legs against your chest, knees over his shoulders, positioning you so he can slap his heavy cock against your clit.
Rubbing his tip against your wet folds of skin, you angle your hips a little better and guide him inside. Your slick heat swallows him up greedily, his cock bottoming out in one swift thrust.
You cry out at the sudden sting of him stretching your aching cunt. Hands gripping the sheets to ground yourself, your eyes water and your mouth hangs open, the feeling enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than him and how he's making you feel.
He offers a brief kiss to your whimpering lips, "Shhhh, I know, babe, I know, feels good... fuck... feels too good.”
Nestling closer to you, Dick settles so he has access to your neck. His hips are still, giving your body time to adjust from the abrupt intrusion. His warm breath tickles your ear between the sweet love pecks he presses into your skin. “You know, if we really wanna sell ourselves as a couple, maybe I should give you some hickies, mark up that pretty neck of yours.”
The muscles in the back of your legs burn from the stretch. The position you’re in doesn’t accommodate deep breathing, so your voice is weak when you warn him, “Can we not talk about work right now?”
“Right. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re pissed at me again.” He latches his lips onto your neck, withdrawing himself from you halfway before easing back in, slower this time, pausing again once he's fully buried.
"H-h-how... mm...d-dude, you're huge," You gasp, feeling his tip kiss your cervix, pushing your body to its limit.
Dick tenses, his solid body going rigid. His next statement seem imbued with an undertone of challenge, "Don't call me dude while I'm inside of you."
"Sorry I- shiiiit...." you lose your words when he starts moving again, pumping into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours while he sucks on your neck, leaving your skin damp with his saliva. Finding them again takes a minute. "M'sorry I didn't c-come up with a list... I mean, why would I be prompted...to... write out the things that are... are off limits when we're fucking?"
The words are forgotten as soon as you say it. His memorizing pace has you feeling alive with warm tingles, concentrated most where your bodies meet. You clench down on his thick cock, more arousal dripping out around him. You can feel your body release more wetness again, doing its best to accept what's being given as his soft raven hair tickles your cheek.
"We can make that list together, babe." His promise is murmured against your throat, "Maybe during our one-on-one counseling session tomorrow with the alleged con artist himself."
"W-wh...huh? What, oh... mmmm.... fuck, Dick.... what list?" You flex your feet and curl your toes, babbling and whimpering at him. You can't move much with how he's pinning you, completely at his mercy. Even though you've never slept together before now, you have complete trust in him, having put your life in his hands more times than you can count. Nightwing has never failed you as a teammate. And Dick certainly has never failed you as a friend. So even now, as he ruts himself into you with purpose, pushing your body to its brink, leaving dark bruises over your neck, you know he doesn't plan to fail you as a lover. If only for one night.
The speculation on whether this heated exchange will be a one-time thing or the start of something more is a worry for later on, not for right now. Right now, this god-like man is fucking himself into you harder and deeper, being much less gentle than how he handled you earlier.
"Feels s'good, tight little pussy is squeezing me, bet you haven't been fucked this good before," He rasps, giving your tender neck a break and resting his forehead against yours while he flexes and undulates, putting his abs, back, entire body into it, hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn't think were even there.
Your cries of pleasure get louder as the minutes pass. Keeping his pace steady, Dick moves his hand over your mouth for the second time this evening to muffle your desperate please for release.. "Shhhh... remember what I said," He taunts, "We can't blow our cover. People come to retreats like this because their marriage is failing. No one here is having sex as good as this."
If you were more aware, you'd point out to him that he just went against his whole justification for giving you love marks. But he might as well be speaking an alien language. The deep timbre of his words do, however, send a chill down your spine, pushing you over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you hard.
Your eyes water even more and blur your already limited vision. Convulsing under the weight of him, you gasp against his palm, tasting yourself, eyes wide in the glow of the dim red light.
"That's it.... shii-iii-iit..." His body stills, and he closes his eyes, struggling desperately to stay off his own orgasm. You welcome the break, pleasure still pulsing in your core, flexing and wiggling your legs to alleviate the stiffness from the prolonged time in such an intense position you aren't used to.
Dick moans your name and shudders, "I need more."
"M-more?" You stutter, intoxicated from the post-orgasm haze.
Pushing himself up and off of you, he sits back on his knees again, cock slipping from your swollen cunt. Dick graciously lowers your legs, guiding them around his waist before leaning over you again, carefully slipping his arms under yours against your back to cradle you closer to him. You cling to him with trembling limbs, letting him move you how he sees fit.
"What, you think I was going to stop at one?" He whispers to you, low and eager. He slips his length back inside of you, the lewd squelching noise sounding absolutely filthy, your thighs damp from his sweat and your fluids. "I'm not wasting this opportunity to show you a good time.'"
Your pussy is so sensitive now, every thrust of his hips earning a small pant from you, feeling him fill you up, over and over, making room for himself inside your body with each tantalizing rut of his hips.
You mumble something incoherent, and Dick chuckles, proud to have you in such a state. "What's that, babe? I'm the best you've ever had?" He kisses your forehead, fucking you a little faster, his heavy balls smacking against your ass with each rut.
"This is... just to keep up appearances, right?" You ask, unsure if you want him to agree or not.
Probably not.
Definitely not.
"Of course." Dick promises, knowing full well that he will not be satisfied until he has you creaming around his cock like this every night. Not now. Not after tonight. Being here with you has opened his eyes, and helped him reflect on why he got so intensely jealous when you were turning heads earlier. "It's all for appearances, babe."
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good-chimes · 1 year ago
Text
THE DIVORCE OF THE CENTURY
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS BETWEEN GRIAN AND GOODTIMESWITHSCAR, DAY 1:
His Hon. Judge BdoubleO100: Silence in the court!
[Court is not silent]
His Hon. Judge Bdubs: Silence in the COURT! I can have you all HANGED!
[The court falls as silent as is possible with a dozen Hermits present]
Judge Bdubs: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—
Cleo: Ahem.
Judge Bdubs: WHAT?
Cleo: That’s for weddings, Bdubs. We’re not doing a wedding. In fact, if you think about it, this is about as far away from a wedding as you can get.
Judge Bdubs: Fine fine FINE. Dearly beloathed, we have all been dragged here today because SOME PEOPLE can’t get ALONG. Grian, step forward!
Grian: Do I— is this the podium for witnesses? Who built this and why did they make it out of nothing but trapdoors? So. Okay. I’m filing for divorce.
Scar: Wait, I thought I was filing for divorce.
Judge Bdubs: LET THE DEFENDANT SPEAK.
Ren: Bdubs, my man, that’s the petitioner. The court hasn’t accused Grian of any crimes.
Cleo: [darkly] Yet.
Grian: I haven’t done any crimes! I’m filing for divorce from Scar, obviously. As my lawyer will tell you—
Judge Bdubs: Do you have a lawyer?
Grian: Yes, your Honor. This is my defense lawyer Mumbo Jumbo Esq. [Waggles a hand behind his back and hisses] Mumbo!
Judge Bdubs: Mumbo’s your defense lawyer? Aren’t you supposed to have a divorce lawyer?
Mumbo: [steps forward and bows nervously] Well, I’ve never divorced anyone, but I have got a lot of experience in defending, er, mainly myself, come to think of it, and also my valuables. From Grian, as a matter of fact. So I think I’ll stick with ‘defense lawyer’ if that’s alright with the court, thank you. 
Judge Bdubs: [leans aside to confer with Cleo] Is that alright with the court? Ask Joe.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms this is probably alright with the court]
Judge Bdubs: Good, good, next! Scar, do you have a lawyer?
Scar: Oh, absolutely. My lawyer is this cat I found outside.
Judge Bdubs: Not Jellie?
Scar: Jellie doesn’t believe we’re really divorcing and wouldn’t come.
Judge Bdubs: Is this cat a qualified divorce lawyer?
Scar: She’s a—let me look at those markings—she’s clearly a personal injury attorney.
Cleo: Have you been personally injured, Scar?
Scar: Why, thank you for asking, I have. My feelings have been very hurt!
Ren: Uh, Bdubs, maybe the court should establish some facts. Why they’re divorcing, what the court can do for them, that sort of thing.
Judge Bdubs: YES. Let’s start with the facts. Now, we all know why you and Scar got married in the first place. Don’t stand there and make that innocent face at me, Grian, I know all the secrets. You got married because Etho and I had the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY last month and you were JEALOUS—no, don’t talk, THE JUDGE IS TALKING—you were jealous of us. [aside] Bdubs and Etho had the wedding of the century, Joe, are you writing this down?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Yep, your Honor, I’ve written that down.
Grian: It wasn’t that good.
Judge Bdubs: YOU TAKE THAT BACK.
Grian: Etho had his bouquet wrapped in a Kleenex box.
Scar: [sentimentally] Don’t you listen to him, Bdubs, I thought the flower arch was lovely.
Judge Bdubs: Thank you, Scar! I—
Cleo: You can’t find in favor of Scar because he said something nice about your own wedding decorations.
Judge Bdubs: [with dignity] —was NOT going to do that. Ahem. So, you and Scar got married because you were jealous—
Grian: We didn’t! It wasn’t like that!
Judge Bdubs: —and now you want to get divorced. Why?
[At this point Petitioner Grian and Petitioner Scar, who have been studiously avoiding each other’s gazes, appear to lock eyes by accident. They both jerk away like they’ve touched a blaze rod. Grian immediately swivels to face the bench, and this scribe has to note that at normal times Grian’s stare is disconcertingly like two soulless voids looking back at you, so it’s even worse when he’s attempting a poker face. Scar becomes very interested in his cat defense lawyer and doesn’t look at Grian at all.]
Grian: The thing is, you see, this marriage was a scam from the start.
*
EVIDENCE #1
[Dramatization by Court Scribe from participant testimony]
One month previously, a note landed in Scar’s bedroom attached to a firework rocket with a red bow and rose. This was very romantic, or at least it would have been romantic if the rocket hadn’t lodged in the rafters and set itself and a chunk of the surrounding wall on fire, but in any case it was clearly Grian making an effort, so Scar deciphered the coordinates scribbled on the charred note and set off to find out what was going on.
They pointed to a spot in the middle of nowhere. In Scar’s long experience of Grian, this meant an equal chance that they were going to make out or he was going to get inventively murdered, but this was always a gamble worth the odds.
But when he arrived, on a green hill in a quiet spot of the server, it was neither. The top of the hill had been leveled off and covered with birch wood, on which Grian was industriously spelling out something with white wool, though Scar couldn’t make out the words from his low angle of approach. Grian stopped when he spotted Scar and launched up to meet him. His wings beat so fast they were nearly vibrating.
“Scar,” Grian said, “Scar.” His grin was one of a cat who had stolen not only the cream, but the milk, the cow, and everyone else’s cows for good measure. “Scar, I’ve had an idea.”
This was clearly a planning-a-prank type of meeting, which probably meant no making out, but Grian’s pranks were not to be missed. “I’m in,” Scar said. “Do we get fancy costumes? I want a fancy costume.”
“No, Scar, that’s not the point—wait, yes, actually.” Grian angled his wings to carve tight spirals around Scar’s coasting flight, always a sign of excitement, and nudged the angle of their joint descent to land on top of the white wool scrawls. “Yes, fancy costumes are a big part of it, but that’s not—listen, this is my big gesture. Just look down.”
Scar looked down. The wool said, WILL YOU MARR.
“I ran out of wool,” Grian said. He flapped a hand. “Just because it’s a big gesture doesn’t mean it has to be finished.”
“What was it supposed to say?” Scar said innocently.
“Scar!” Grian shifted from foot to foot when he got agitated, which was always funny. “Fine! Okay! Stand there.”
The hidden trapdoor beneath their feet gave way as Grian pressed a switch. Scar yelped for form’s sake, but nothing exploded, and the only thing at the bottom of their tumbled slide was an underground bunker.
It had a table, and two chairs, and a huge corkboard on the otherwise blank walls. Grian had always had a thing for bunkers.
“This,” Grian said, with a flourish, “is the Wedding War Room.”
Scar looked around the bunker and asked the important question. “Are you going to decorate it?”
“Am I going to—no, listen, that’s not the point either. You can decorate it, if you want. The point is, you know how Bdubs and Etho got married?”
“It was beautiful,” Scar agreed immediately. “That wedding chapel? Incredible, honestly, Bdubs is a true artist. Oh! Remember the part where Etho put a river of lava through the chapel roof and glitched it into a heart?”
“Okay, but, you know what Bdubs and Etho got?
“Eternal happiness?”
“Scar.”
“No, what?”
“Bdubs and Etho got royal diamonds,” Grian said impressively. “From the vault.”
“Are they still royal diamonds if Ren’s not king anymore?” Scar said. “I thought we blew up the vault, anyway. You blew it up. I was there.”
“Do you pay any attention to anything that’s not Scarland?” Grian said. “Mumbo didn’t know what to do with the diamonds so he and Iskall built a new vault. I think Mumbo and Iskall and Impulse are the only ones who really know how to get into it. Anyway, everyone got so warm and fuzzy about Bdubs and Etho’s wedding that they all decided to open the vault up and just gave them diamonds.”
“Free diamonds?” Scar said thoughtfully.
“Free diamonds!” Grian’s eyes glittered. “Think of that vault. Stacks on stacks on stacks of diamonds. Thousands of diamonds! We could have some of those, for nothing, just by saying some words. And that’s not even mentioning the wedding presents! We’re out here spending days and days grinding resources and stocking our shops when we could be swimming in it! That could be us, Scar.” Scar had entirely forgotten the lack of interior decorations; he always did, when Grian got on a roll as mesmerizing as this.“And so,” Grian took a deep breath and held out his hand, “Scar, will you marry me?”
Scar took his hand with an enormous wave of affection. “Grian,” he said sincerely, “I have never, in my whole life, wanted to marry anyone more.”
*
EVIDENCE #2
Mumbo took the news more earnestly than Grian had expected.
“Oh,” said Mumbo. “Oh, haha, wow—seriously? Scar said something and I thought it was just a joke, but you guys actually… Wow!” He cleared his throat. “Grian, mate, it’s been a long time coming. I’m so happy for you.”
“Don’t get sappy,” Grian said. “It’s just a wedding. I mean,” he clarified, “it’s a very important wedding, obviously, because it’s my wedding, but I don’t need you to get sappy about it. I don’t even need you to talk about it. I just need you to bring diamonds.”
“I didn’t even know you were going to ask him,” Mumbo said, ignoring the very clear instructions Grian had just given him. “Or did he ask you, or—mate, that’s just brilliant. This is brilliant. Is it because Bdubs and Etho had that wedding? That was really beautiful, I don’t mind saying, I got a little bit teary.”
“This has nothing to do with any weddings anyone else had,” Grian said with dignity. “Our wedding will be better, but that’s unrelated. I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here to ask you something.” He took hold of Mumbo’s hand in the most meaningful grip he could muster. “Mumbo, we’ve been friends for years, right?”
“Of course,” Mumbo said nervously.
Grian gave it a second’s pause for the sake of drama. “Mumbo Jumbo, will you be my best man?”
“Ah,” Mumbo said, which was not what Grian had expected. “Ah. Er. Might be a problem there.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, you see, five minutes ago, Scar…”
*
EVIDENCE #3
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<Grian> scar
<GoodTimeWithScar> yES?
<Grian> my base.
<Grian> now.
<GoodTimeWithScar> On my way
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> oNE MINUTE
<Grian> come in the back door
GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard
<GoodTimeWithScar> Was that a trap??
<Grian> mumbo is mine
<GoodTimeWithScar> No he isn’t, Mister!
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Grian> MUMBO IS MINE
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Vindicator
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]
<Renthedog>: :o
GoodTimeWithScar burned to death
<Renthedog> Everything okay there, gentlemen?
<Grian> best man debate
GoodTimeWithScar was poked to death by a sweet berry bush
<Grian> all settled now
<Renthedog> wait
<EthosLab> Wait
<BdoubleO100> WAIT
<TangoTek> are you two…?
<Grian> invitations dropping tomorrow. wedding gift mandatory.
<GoodTimeWithScar> Come one, Come all!
<Grian> only diamonds will be considered real presents
<PearlescentMoon> huh
<impulseSV> omg finally! So happy for you guys!
<PearlescentMoon> be honest Grian, is this because Bdubs and Etho got married and you had to one-up them?
<Grian> NO IT IS NOT
*
EVIDENCE #4
The bachelor party negotiations were even more hard-fought than the best man.
They held the impromptu negotiations in the Wedding War Room, which was now covered with loving maps and hundreds of bits of paper that neither of them had read since putting them up there. They looked good, though, so Scar kept adding more.
There was a pile of paper strips on the table in front of them. Scar and Grian sat facing off like two negotiators at a ceasefire.
“Mumbo’s my best man,” Grian said, picking the first name off the pile without breaking eye contact and moving it to his side of the table, “so he comes to my party.” Scar gave in with a modicum of grace. The possibility of having bachelor parties at different times had been wordlessly considered and then summarily dismissed by both combatants.
Scar escalated it to a blood sport as he picked up the next bit of paper. “Pearl’s coming to my party.”
Grian yelped and grabbed Scar’s wrist. “She is not. I knew her first!”
“I know her better,” Scar countered. “Or at least,” he added, “I know her building style better.”
“You can’t just steal my friend because you like her building! That’s not how that works!”
“I think she’d enjoy it,” Scar said meditatively. “I’m going to have champagne. Glitter. Razzmatazz.”
“I will have more champagne,” Grian said mutinously. He hadn’t taken his hand off Scar’s wrist. “And more razzmatazz. You can’t have Pearl.”
“Oh, all right then,” Scar said, since Pearl was one of Grian’s oldest friends and he’d never had a chance of getting her anyway. Grian plucked the piece of paper out of his hand and put it on top of Mumbo’s paper. “I get Bdubs, though.”
That was a given. Grian didn’t seriously dispute it, though he opened his mouth to try. “I—yes, fine. You can have Bdubs.” Scar swept the piece of paper to his own side of the table.
“And that means,” Scar proceeded, with the grand momentum of a train starting to roll, “that I get Etho, as well.” He shuffled through the bits of paper and displayed Etho’s name like a magic trick.
He watched Grian calculate his chances of getting Etho if Bdubs was going to Scar’s party. “…okay, yeah, you get Etho.”
“Also that means I get Cleo,” Scar said. “She’ll come if Bdubs does. We don’t want to split up friends.” He drew Cleo’s name towards him, sliding another couple of slips underneath it at the same time. “Oh, and Joe as well, if Cleo’s coming.”
“What’s that other one?” Grian said suspiciously. He trapped Scar’s hand and pried out the third name. “What—no, you can’t have Ren.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Scar said in his most reasonable voice. “Hear me out. I have Cub, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I have Cub, and Bdubs, and Cleo, and Joe, so, by royal decree…”
“You can’t have Ren just because the five of you were in a royal murder cult with him!”
“Excuse me, mister, that wasn’t a cult. That was the royal court!”
“It was too a cult,” said Grian, a man who had once persuaded Ren into living in camper vans in the woods with him for weeks in order to break into a military base and steal a magic box.
Ren’s name was already safely on Scar’s side of the table. “And if I have Ren, then I have to have Doc—”
“Look, Scar, if you get all of Bdubs’ current and former exes—”
“—what’s a ‘current ex’—”
“—Etho and don’t interrupt me, if you get everyone Bdubs has ever had a relationship plus their plus ones you get ninety percent of our friends.”
“Is it my fault I throw good parties?” Scar protested. “Look, you can have—”
“I’m having Impulse,” Grian interrupted, pulling his name out. “I need more redstoners.”
“What for?”
Grian waved a hand. “You just need them around.” Scar nodded, unable to find a flaw in the logic. “Also I get Joel. And Martyn. And Timmy.”
“I built Jimmy a train,” Scar objected. He put his fingertips on the other end of Jimmy’s name while Grian attempted to steal it.
“All right, this is the ‘disputed’ pile,” Grian said, pushing it to the side. “Who else?”
Now they had a disputed pile, it started filling up. “If I have Cleo,” Scar said, “then technically I should have Scott—”
“You can’t keep using that trick!” 
“Then how are we going to fix it, Grian?” Scar’s tone was eminently reasonable. “I think we should just let people be friends.”
“They are friends,” Grian said. “They’re friends with me.”
“They could be friends with me.”
“Tell you what,” Grian said, a warlike gleam coming into his eyes. “We’ll ask them.”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Bdubs: So that’s how the split started?
Cleo: You weren’t even married at that point.
Grian: Right! Exactly! We weren’t even married and Scar used underhand methods to steal my friends!
Scar: Excuse me. You went around the server threatening everyone who you didn’t think was coming to your party. Talk about underhand methods! I just offered them a good time.
Grian: Your bribed them! You bribed them to come to your bachelor party! [stabs a finger at Judge Bdubs] You even bribed him, so I don’t know why we put him in charge of this divorce.
Judge Bdubs: Nobody is allowed to question the integrity of the judge! I am as PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.
Scar: That’s a good point. I gave you netherite, Bdubs, you should be ruling in my favor.
Judge Bdubs: You gave me ONE netherite ingot, I’m not giving you a ruling for that.
Scar: Grian, I think this judge is biased.
Judge Bdubs: HOW DARE YOU.
Grian: Scar is right, this judge is corrupt! I can’t believe we were forced into this farce of a trial and the judge is corrupt! Joe, I demand a new judge.
[Court Scribe JoeHills indicates that he is pretty sure this whole divorce trial was Grian’s idea in the first place, and also that judges cannot usually be replaced just like that, and the Court Scribe personally does not have a reserve list]
Judge Bdubs: I refuse to SIT HERE and be SLANDERED! You’re both guilty! [slams gavel] TAKE THEM TO THE DUNGEONS.
[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms that the petitioners have not actually been accused of anything—despite obviously having committed many crimes, Cleo would like to me to record—so cannot be found guilty, and in any case we don’t have any dungeons]
Judge Bdubs: Fine! I give up! CLEO, YOU’RE THE JUDGE NOW.
Judge Cleo: Wait, am I?
[Judge Bdubs forcibly transfers the judicial wig to Cleo, upon which the snakes in her hair make a spirited attempt to eat it.]
Scar: Can we get on with it?
Judge Cleo: Yes, you can shut up. You can all shut up! Thank you. That’s better. Are you sure you two can’t just settle it out of court so we can all go home?
Grian: No, we can’t. Me and Scar have [checks his notes] undergone an irreparable breakdown.
Scar: Sure, we might have had an eruptable breakdown, but you can’t say it was my fault. I tried to make it work. I built us a honeymoon island! It had palm trees and deckchairs and everything. I’m coming here in good faith and I deserve to be the innocent party.
Grian: I want all the diamonds Scar has.
Judge Cleo: Joe, is he allowed to ask for that?
[Court Scribe diligently references the law summary he found on the internet, suggests that at this stage the judge can grant temporary financial orders on petitioner request]
Grian: Fine, I want half of Scar’s diamonds.
Scar: I need all my diamonds for Scarland materials!
Grian: They’re not your diamonds! They’re my diamonds!
Scar: Then I get half of all your dark prismarine, thank you very much, that will be amazingly useful.
Grian: You’re not touching my dark prismarine! I’ll sell it all if you try!
Judge Cleo: Nobody is touching anyone else’s anything! Ren, stop laughing, this is a serious courtroom. Grian, you’re not allowed to sell your dark prismarine. Scar, you’re not allowed to hide any of your diamonds. Everyone is going to keep things exactly as they are until this trial is done.
Grian: Do you trust him? Look at him, look at his face, would you trust that man? Of course you wouldn’t! All the diamonds should stay in my base while we’re having the trial.
Scar: This is outrageous! This is an outrageous demand! You can’t just question a man’s honor like that!
Judge Cleo: Well, put them somewhere safe. Joe can keep them.
Grian: [grudgingly] I suppose we could put them in the Royal Vault.
Judge Cleo: You want to put your valuables in escrow?
Scar: I don’t see what birds have to do with it.
[Short pause while the concept of ‘escrow’ is explained to both petitioners]
Scar: Well, I’ll do it, but I think Grian should put all his resources in nestcrow. Seeing as it’s all his fault.
Grian: I did everything right! I was the perfect groom!
Judge Cleo: You know, Grian, somehow I have my doubts. Go back to your marriage testimony. What happened next?
*
EVIDENCE #5
“Ahem,” said Mumbo. “Ahem.”
Grian rolled his eyes, jumped up on a table, decided that wasn’t good enough, flew up and perched on the light fitting, and yelled, “Everyone! It’s happening! The best man is speaking!”
Silence fell.
“I was actually going to announce you,” Mumbo said. He cleared his throat. “All right! So! This… is a bachelor party!”
The bachelor party–all three of them–looked at each other.
“Woohoo!” said Iskall.
“Party time!” tried Pearl gamely.
“I was promised champagne,” said Scott, who had been lured through the portal with one bribe only.
“There will be champagne,” said Mumbo. “As best man, it is my job to plan the bachelor party, and to plan a party that is… appropriate, and thoughtful, and informed by my long friendship with Grian, so,” he coughed, “if everyone could check the boxes under their chairs for supplies, we do have an event. Sort of thing. Kind of a party game.”
“Er,” said Pearl, checking under her chair. “This is… quite a lot of...”
Iskall started to giggle.
“Seriously, I was promised champagne,” said Scott.
“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that,” Mumbo said. “First, we’re going to sneak into the other party and blow them all up.”
“...so many ender crystals…” whispered Pearl.
“Look how they sparkle!” said Iskall.
“What about the—”
“And! When they’re all dead,” said Mumbo, “we can take their champagne.”
Grian flew down from the light fitting and landed in front of Mumbo. His eyes were shining. He took Mumbo’s hands in his. “Mumbo,” he breathed. “I’ve changed my mind. Can I marry you instead?”
“Er,” said Mumbo. “No?”
“Did you even order any refreshments?” said Scott.
“Listen,” Mumbo said, “it’s Grian’s party, we were going to end up doing this anyway, and it’ll be fun.”
“Dibs on blowing up Scar!” said Grian.
“We understand, Grian,” said Pearl.
“I suppose that’s sort of romantic?” said Scott in an undertone. “You’d think he’d have more trauma about it, after all the–”
“This is going to be so funny,” Grian said, scooping up handfuls of ender crystals. “Best–best man–ever.”
*
EVIDENCE #6
The actual wedding was a subdued affair.
The wedding venue had just about survived, by virtue of being several hundred blocks away from either bachelor party, though the smoking craters were visible in the background. From the front, the building was a charming mansion with flowers in every window. From every other angle it might be a gray shell, but Grian was a very busy person who was getting married and he couldn’t be expected to get to everything.
On the morning of the wedding, when Grian finally pieced himself together and dragged himself back from respawn he was met by the two Best Man candidates: Mumbo, who was sitting on the step of the venue dismally trying to piece his scorched suit back together, and Cub, who was completely unruffled and appeared to be doing a crossword.
“Oh, Grian, you made it.” Mumbo abandoned his scorched hems in relief. “Some people haven’t even respawned yet. We really do need Scar, though—”
“I’m here! I’m here!” Scar, impeccably dressed in a blue morning suit, swooped in from above, trailing flowers and losing his top hat in the process. “Gosh. Nobody else made it, huh?”
“I don’t believe this,” Grian said. “None of them?”
“Weren’t you supposed to open the portal again for the Empires people?”
“I forgot,” Grian said. “But we can’t focus on that. We have to focus on the fact that at least twenty Hermits promised to come, and now they aren’t here.”
“I, um,” Mumbo said. “I take full responsibility for the original idea, but I think the seventh time you blew up Bdubs and Ren and Doc and Zedaph you did blow up all their stuff as well. And I think some people got hit so hard they won’t respawn for a week.”
“That was their fault,” Grian said. “For being in the way of my ender crystals.”
“Seven times?” Cub said.
“Oh, as if you’ve never blown up someone and all their stuff seven times and pushed their respawn into next week.”
“So, what?” Scar said. “Do we just…not have a wedding?”
Mumbo coughed. “I think you should still get married.”
“What?”
“I just think,” Mumbo gestured vaguely. “You know, your whole thing. And Jevin made you the suits and everything. It would be a shame. You could have an intimate wedding without any guests, you know. I’m just saying.”
Grian attempted to trade a skeptical look with Scar. This didn’t work, as Scar had gone faintly red and wasn’t looking at him. “An intimate wedding, you mean, right here?” Scar said. “Now? Oh, yes, of course, but you know, now I come to think about it, I don’t know I can get married.”
This smelled like weakness. “What’s wrong with marrying me?” Grian demanded. “Are you backing out?”
“No, I—I need my top hat! I can't get married without my top hat!”
“Are you scared, Scar?”
“Of course I'm not scared!” Scar said indignantly. “We’ll do it right now! Who’s marrying us? Oh—Joe’s still respawning, isn’t he? Cub, you can do it, can’t you? Cub’s an ordained priest, you know.”
“That’s right,” Cub said agreeably.
“Is he?” Grian said suspiciously. “Which religion?”
Cub’s faint smile didn’t change at all. “Don’t worry about that.”
“You don’t want to think too hard about it,” Scar said breezily. “But he’s very official! Very well-respected in the community.”
In all their planning, Grian had given no thought at all to the actual wedding. He was nearly certain that the chanting from the officiant was supposed to be pleasant and inoffensive, about, well, love and stuff, and he was also fairly sure the officiant’s eyes were not supposed to turn black as a flaming rift appeared behind him spewing an unknowable sense of dread, but at that point Scar kissed Grian thoroughly, and that lasted so long that Mumbo had to break it up after a few minutes with a polite cough, and by that time Cub had finished chanting and gone back to his crossword.
“That was very touching,” Mumbo said, apparently relieved they weren’t still kissing right in front of him. “Shame about the guests, but you can’t have everything.”
“Shocking,” Scar agreed. “Do they still have to give us presents? Maybe if we waited a week and did it again? I have to say, I could use a little more time to get the trees right on Honeymoon Island.”
“We’re not having a honeymoon, Scar, I told you,” Grian said. “This wedding is just business, and we don’t have any business without the presents.”
Mumbo was wearing the expression that Grian had always vaguely compared to an accountant breaking the bad news about something unspeakable going on in the stockmarket. “To be honest with you,” Mumbo said, “I don’t think many of them were in a present-giving mood. I think, um, you might have to write off the presents.”
“Are you telling me,” Grian said, “that this whole scheme has been a complete failure?”
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: So, let me get this straight, the plan was to scam all of us—
Scar: Scam is a strong word. More like a trade, if you think about it! A trade where we get presents and you get a warm sense of fuzziness and wellbeing.
Judge Cleo: —exactly, to scam us, and it all went wrong, and you realized the marriage was a mistake? That was weeks ago, though. What happened between that and the divorce?
*
EVIDENCE #7
LIST OF POST-WEDDING WRONGDOING COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR, VARIOUS (condensed from two hours of court arguments)
i. “Well, then I took some deepslate from Grian because I needed it for Scarland, which is just borrowing, if you think about it.”
ii. “Scar really owed me diamonds because it was his fault the scam didn’t work.”
iii. Lengthy descriptions of the damage from ensuing weeks-long prank war.
iv. “He should honestly have expected me to put chickens in his storage system.”
v. Evidence received from Xisuma that this lagged out the entire server.
vi. Evidence received from Grian that Scarland lags out the entire server anyway and this is probably a crime so why can’t the court do something about that.
vii. Strong representations from both sides that the other one snores and hogs the covers and this probably ought to be a crime.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: [face down on judicial bench] Have they stopped talking yet?
Court Scribe JoeHills: No, they’re still going.
*
EVIDENCE #8
FURTHER LIST OF WRONGDOINGS COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR
viii. “Yes I did blow him up after that, but it’s not illegal if it’s funny.”
ix. Complicated debate about whether ensuing sabotage was funny enough not to be illegal.
x. Representations from Grian that everything is Scar’s fault with absolutely no legal backing at all.
xi. Representations from Scar, ditto, with the addition of fake law he says his cat defense attorney told him.
xii. At this point, Court Scribe JoeHills has given up attempting to make sense of the petitioners’ ongoing argument.
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):
Judge Cleo: Enough! ENOUGH! No! Shut up! If I have to listen to one more attempt at utterly specious reasoning from either of you I am going to pick up this gavel and I am going to drive its handle through my own skull. This is definitely both your fault, you are terrible people, and I hope you get divorced harder than anyone has ever got divorced in history.
[Mildly stunned silence in the court]
Judge Cleo: Right. Good. I am about to quit. But before I quit, because Joe asked me nicely to come here today, I am going to order one of you to serve the other with divorce papers before tomorrow. That’s the next thing on the list: one of you has to formally divorce the other. No, I am not going to hear any more arguments, I’m done with this whole thing, you can find a new judge. Yes, Scar?
Scar: [lowers his tentatively raised hand] How do we know which one divorces the other one?
Judge Cleo: [looks blank] Well… I suppose it’s who serves their papers first?
*
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian wont accept divorce papers and keeps avoiding me.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar didn’t take a single copy of the papers despite the fact i filled his bedroom with them
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: SCAR
Body of complaint: Grian paid impulse to make a divorce paper printing redstone machine. It feels like this, should be Illegal!
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: GRIAN
Body of complaint: scar employed my best man to make him a rival printing machine. this is sabotage.
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: ZEDAPH
Body of complaint: Er, I know you’re doing a whole trial thingummy, but I would really like to be able to move around my base without swimming through mountains of divorce papers. Does it look like this is going to be possible any time in the near future?
COMPLAINT TO COURT:
Submitter of complaint: DOCM77
Body of complaint: WHY HAVE SEVENTY THOUSAND BADLY-PRINTED COPIES OF DIVORCE PAPERS BEEN SHOVELED INTO THE PERIMETER! I AM HOLDING ALL OF YOU PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE! I WILL RAIN DOWN FIRE AND BLOOD!
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 2:
Judge Mumbo: Right, so, apparently I’m supposed to be ruling on who served who with papers.
Scar: Excuse me! Objection! This new judge is clearly biased.
Grian: No, he’s not. This is all completely fine. Mumbo can be the judge now, and he can just wear a different hat when he’s being my lawyer.
Judge Mumbo: I am a bit biased, I have to admit.
Grian: No you’re not, Mumbo.
Scar: Admit it, there can’t be a fair trial for Grian under these circumstances!
Judge Mumbo: Uh—
Scar: Because I know Mumbo, and he can’t resist these…HoTgUy abs!
[Minor chaos as the court attempts to enforce a dress code]
Judge Mumbo: [removes his wig] Sorry, Grian, he’s right. Scar’s papers are accepted.
Grian: TRAITOR.
Mumbo: Scar, can I have another calendar?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: Court is called to order! Where’s—oh, there you are. Scar, you’re late.
Scar: Sorry! I was working on our honeymoon island.
Grian: What do you mean, our honeymoon island? Scar, we’re divorcing.
Scar: That doesn't mean you can just abandon a build, Grian. Some of us don't leave our backsides unfinished.
Cleo: Someone please get Ren a glass of water, I think he’s going to choke.
Judge Ren: Ahem. Now, gentlemen, I understand Scar is filing for divorce from Grian on the grounds of [checks his notes] desertion, abandonment, and unreasonable behavior.
Grian: Excuse me, what! If I’ve been unreasonable, what about him?
Scar: I have been a model of rationality and recti— rectic— ridiclitude.
Judge Ren: Indeed. I have heard Scar always finishes his backsides.
Grian: I’ll give you unreasonable behavior! This whole thing is your fault! If your bachelor party hadn’t been so badly defended I wouldn’t have been able to blow you all up.
Scar: Well, mister, if you hadn’t overthrown Ren in the first place he might have shown up to our wedding in spite of it!
Grian: If you’d been better at your job I wouldn’t have been ABLE to overthrow him!
Scar: You—you—oooh, I oughta—
Grian: [tauntingly] Ought to what?
Judge Ren: Scar, no, not in court…!
Scar: HOTGUY! [Retrieves bow from improbably small pocket and summarily murders his co-petitioner on the witness. Chaos ensues. Trial name hastily changed.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1:
Judge Ren: Listen, Scar, did you, or did you not, kill another petitioner right in front of me?
Scar: What? Oh, yeah, I just shot Grian.
Judge Ren: You can’t just—My dude, this might have been a crime of passion, but you understand this is a court and that was murder, right?
Cleo: Objection.
Judge Ren: Yes?
Cleo: We can’t start prosecuting for murder now.
[Pause as the court considers the comprehensive history of all Hermits present.]
TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:
Judge Ren: [once Grian has returned from spawn] You’re going to have to come to some sort of agreement, gentlemen. It’s been days.
Grian: I think we should fight.
Judge Ren: This court does not do trial by combat. I refuse to be witness to such barbarity.
Cleo: I mean…if you think about it, it would stop them arguing.
Judge Ren: …
Judge Ren: I think I could stand to watch someone else compromise their morals. From a distance. Who wants this wig?
Judge Pearl: [settling in at the bench] Right! I think you two should fight. To the death.
Grian: LET’S FIGHT.
Judge Pearl: Riding ravagers.
Scar: What?
Judge Pearl: It would be funny.
Scar: Ravagers, though—
Grian: Don’t listen to Scar, he just murdered me. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
Scar: Alright! Alright, we can fight, but I’m only doing it if it’s somewhere dramatic.
Grian: …What do you mean, dramatic?
*
TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3 (CONTINUED):
[The court has moved proceedings from its custom-built courthouse to a location considered ‘acceptably dramatic’ by Petitioner Scar. We are now in the dim, cavernous monolith of the Royal Vault, where the walls are sheer deepslate lit only by flickering lanterns, and mountains of diamonds and chests gleam softly in the shadowed gloom. The court is gathered here to watch the petitioners fight symbolically over their own escrowed valuables, which are piled in the middle of a stone platform built by Grian and Pearl, and see a final conclusion to this bitterly-fought split. At either end of the platform are pens with two enraged ravagers donated by Tango, salivating at the buffet of violence and blood about to—]
Judge Pearl: [leans over the edge of her observation chair] Joe! What are you doing down there scribbling?
Court Scribe JoeHills: Oh, I’m just adding narrative color.
Judge Pearl: Well, stop doing that and pay attention to the fight! We’re about to start!
Bdubs: FIGHT!
Cub: Let’s go!
Mumbo: Grian, mate, you’ve got this.
Bdubs: RUN HIM THROUGH, SCAR. TEACH HIM TO MAKE FUN OF MY WEDDING DECORATIONS.
Doc: What happens if they both die? I would like them both to die.
Judge Pearl: Contestants! Mount your steeds!
Grian: [has succeeded in landing on his ravager’s back, something Scar has not yet managed] I want you to know, Scar, that whatever happens—
Judge Pearl: Scar! You can’t just stand there, you have to TRY to ride it.
Grian: —I think we can count this as a—
Bdubs: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
Scar: [his head comes up to look at Grian] —a double victory?
[As if this is a code word, Grian and Scar’s gazes meet. The Court Scribe feels obliged to note that when Grian and Scar smile at the same time, history suggests something terrible is about to happen.]
Scar: Well, hello there, Mister Ravager! Would you like to get out of that pen?
Bdubs: Wait, what’s he—Scar, you ain’t supposed to break the wall that lets them at us! SABOTAGE!
Judge Pearl: GRIAN!
Grian: [shrieking as his ravager swerves into the crowd of spectators] Scar! The switch!
[Your trusty Court Scribe hurriedly dives out of the way as Scar flings himself into the pile of his and Grian’s valuables, where the tell-tale glint of redstone has been hidden under the piles of chests.]
Ren: Why do both of them have all those empty shulkers?
Cleo: Wait, wait, did we just give Grian and Scar unfettered access to all the diamonds in the vault?
Judge Pearl: WATCH OUT, THEY’VE HIDDEN TNT UNDER THE—
[Scar slams a switch. The world explodes. The Judge and most spectators are instantly blown up. The only survivors are your Court Scribe, who managed to get behind an obsidian pillar, and Cub, rising above the chaos on pre-equipped elytra wings with the philosophical serenity of someone who saw this coming.]
*
POSTSCRIPT
It’s a beautiful day, the sky is a clear and serene blue, and Grian and Scar have gotten away with everything.
Grian coasts joyfully ahead of Scar on outstretched wings, loaded down with boxes and boxes of ill-gotten diamonds, looping head-over-heels only when he can’t contain the energy bubbling through him. “We are the greatest, Scar. We are geniuses. We are the greatest geniuses who ever lived.”
“Oh, we are,” Scar agrees instantly. A lesser person might have pointed out their first plan failed spectacularly and their hasty second one only succeeded by luck, but this is why Grian married Scar specifically. Only he’s not married to Scar any more, is he? For one shining moment Grian had forgotten that.
The crater of the Royal Vault is far below and receding, the debris scattered like little jeweled toys. Grian is recalled to the present gleeful moment in which they are geniuses who have pulled the whole thing off and are richer than every other hermit put together. “Where are we going?”
“I was following you,” Scar says.
“I didn’t think this far ahead! I only planned up to the part where we stole everyone’s diamonds!”
“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Scar says confidently. “Change course to Honeymoon Island!”
Grian doesn’t have a good argument against that, and anyway, he’s too happy and diamond-dazzled to argue. Scar strikes out to the azure ocean and Grian dips into his wake and soars behind.
Scar has outdone himself, as usual. Honeymoon Island is just one long crescent-shaped beach with crystal seas, golden sands, palm trees, deck chairs, and—somehow—little iced coconut drinks that keep reappearing and each have a little paper umbrella. Naturally, Scar hasn’t thought of including a safe room for all their new valuables, so Grian has to dig out a makeshift bunker for all their ill-gotten gains, but when all that excitement is done, Grian throws himself onto a deckchair with a coconut drink and closes his eyes.
“So?” Scar says, in the expectant tone of someone who has spent three weeks fiddling with the palm trees that are currently casting an exquisitely-latticed shade over Grian’s eyelids, despite the fact they were technically divorcing all that time. “What do you think?”
“It is very pretty,” Grian admits grudgingly. “We can’t use it for a honeymoon, though. We’re divorced.”
“Are we divorced?” Scar is thoughtfully making origami out of his paper umbrella. “We did ditch them all before the trial officially finished.”
“Oh, we’re absolutely divorced. Super divorced.”
“I suppose you’re right. No honeymoon for us, then?”
An idyllic silence falls over the palm-fringed beach. The sea laps at the shining sands, creating a soft music from the shells and pebbles. The leaves rustle. This coconut drink in Grian’s hand is surprisingly good.
“Scar—”
“Hey, Grian—”
There is a pause.
“Go on,” Grian says impatiently.
“No, no, I think you should ask.”
“I asked last time!” This is ridiculous. It’s a shame Grian has been enchanted by the ridiculous for years now. “We’re probably not even talking about the same—”
Scar interrupts, which is rude, but unfortunately he’s picked his most golden and unfair voice, like the sea caressing the sand, and Grian is momentarily helpless. “Will you, Grian,” Scar says, “do me the great honor of marrying me? Again?”
Grian throws a paper umbrella at him. “Scar,” he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”
4K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 1 year ago
Note
I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺
I know the feeling, nonnie.
Check Yes or No
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.
Word Count: Over 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”
He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.
One glance and he belonged to you completely.
“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.
“I’m Bucky.”
Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.
Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”
Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.
He suddenly wished he was funnier.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.
Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.
“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”
You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”
“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”
“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.
How did he miss you already?
Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.
Which made him happy.
While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.
“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.
Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.
The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?
He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.
When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.
“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”
He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.
He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.
“Lunch again next week?” You offered.
“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.
But it wasn't a date.
It was time to change that.
Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.
But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.
“Meow.”
Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.
Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.
“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”
He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.
Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.
Except for him.
“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”
His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.
He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?
To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.
“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. ��Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”
Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.
Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair
Maybe one day.
Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.
Until you smiled again.
“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.
His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.
After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.
“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”
The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.
That was all he wanted.
You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”
The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”
“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”
Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.
“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”
“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”
Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.
Not once.
Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.
“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” you smiled.
“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.
“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”
Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”
He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.
For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.
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We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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silversurfersx · 16 days ago
Text
media duties | f1grid pt.2
part 1
f1 grid x driver!reader [smau] - part 2
summary: the reader does anything to escape her media duties
faceclaim: Jamie chadwick and random peopke I found on ointerest
warnings: swearing, theoretical violence
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liked by georgerussel63, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername: got a visitor in the paddock today😊 he had the cooler car 😔
view comments
user: is alex ok?
user: what happened in slide 3???
alex_albon: why did you post this?
yourusername: bc auggie is adorable alex_albon: obviously, but that's not what I meant yourusername: oh you mean me hitting you with my car... yeah, that's meant as a threat for everyone alex_albon: what for? yourusername: leading Netflix to my secret hideout alex_albon: you were hiding in the Haas hospitality with Auggie and the Haas kids yourusername: yeah I couldn't understand a word those two said
user: ah yes...
user: is it weird that I'm jealous of auggie's car?
user: no, cause same
___
Auggie cruised in his Spiderman toy car in front of you through the paddock. In high pitched squeaks he imitated motor noises.
Chuckling at the small boy, you followed along grabbing your phone from your pocket when you felt a ping. Looking down you saw Alex's message about Netflix wanting to film a segment once again.
'I can't, I gotta take care of auggie, sorry'
You texted back, looking for another excuse, as you knew that taking care of Auggie wasn't the best excuse, as there were enough people at Williams who could look after your nephew for an hour. They did when you raced as well.
Your eyes moved over the paddock, stopping on Nico Hulkenberg kneeling alongside his daughter, who was Auggie's age.
"Auggie, what do you think about making a new friend?"
The blonde boy turned back, quickly hitting the brakes of his toy car. "A new friend?"
"Yeah, you see that girl over there?" You nodded at the small girl, whose name you never really learned. "She looks nice, doesn't she?"
"Yes! Do you think she wants to be my friend?" The boy asked eyes wide in question. You shrugged. "Maybe we could go and ask."
"Yes!"
___
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___
"Y/N what are your plans for next year?" The media person asked rising to their feat in the crowd of reporters during the press conference.
Slowly you lifted the microphone up to your lips. "I don't know."
"You were seen in the Haas hospitality earlier today. Was it contract related or did you hide from someone again?" They asked which was followed by chuckles from everyone in the room.
Smiling you answered. "I was hiding."
Again chuckles erupted.
"Did you get caught?" Max interrupted from next to you on the couch. Laughing you nodded. "Yeah, Alex told on me."
"Ah, you shouldn't have told him." Max reprimanded you.
"Yeah, I know." You nodded. "But I hit him with my car, so now we're even." You argumented, ignoring the wide eyes from the media. Yuki grinned from beside Max, who couldn't hide his own amusement.
"That seems alright then." Max replied.
"If i may interrupt and go back to my initial question." The reporter interrupted. "Y/N, what are your plans for next year, do you have a new contract in sight?"
"Not really." You shrugged. It was a lie, but it wasn't any of their business, yet and you didn't even know if t would work out.
___
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liked by sebastianvettel, francolapinto, williamsracing and others
yourusername: a great honour to be able to join seb and his crew!❤
It was an absolute honour meeting you, seb and all the people who worked this project. I am proud to have been part of this!!!🇧🇷🤩🥰
SennaForver 🇧🇷🇧🇷
view comments
user: absolutely beautiful what you did
user: we love seb!
user: senna forever!!!
sebastianvettel: it was an honour to have you join us as well❤ [liked by yoursusername]
alex_albon: so this is where you went?
___
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___
It was only logical that a day would come, where you were actually late for media duties, though no one believed you. Your constant lying about your whereabouts during media duties finally got to you.
"Where did you hide out this time?" Alex greeted you when you ran on stage for the fan event. "I didn't, I swear, I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm."
Alex looked at you suspiciously, not quite believing you. "Was it Max?"
"No, I swear, I slept in." You tried to reassure. Looking out at the crowd you tried to convince them. "Sorry guys, but I swear I did sleep."
Laughs filled the crowd at you attempts of convincing.
"Was that a 'we believe you'- laugh?" You asked receiving once again a similar laugh. Leaning back to look at the Alpine boys who were with you. "Are they laughing at me or with me?"
"I think at you." Pierre teased and Esteban joined. "I would too."
"At least I know I'm funny." You replied, grinning.
Alex leaned towards you, putting the microphone away from his mouth. "Did you actually sleep in?"
"Yes, I swear." You replied.
___
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___
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername: I swear guys i played too much sims and fell asleep... also I got a special helmet ⛑️
view comments
user: she's out here fighting for her life, haha
user: happens to the best of us
user: damn, she's fighting harder than when she's escaping Netflix
landonorris: did u feed me?
yourusername: i let you drown in the pool, lol landonorris: what 🙂 yourusername: oscar was really sad oscarpiastri: nah landonorris: 🥲 yourusername: that's rough
alexalbon: but did you?
yourusername: 🤡
user: sick helmet ⛑️
user: are we all just gonna ignore lando?
yourusername: ignoring him is always the safest option 👍
___
Drive to Survive interview:
"Hello, my name is Y/N Y/LN and I am racing for Williams Racing." You closed the clap with a tight smile, the bright lights surrounding you blinded you.
"Okay, great, it's good to finally catch you." The reporter announced making you unwillingly smile. "Yeah, you guys are very adamant, just wouldn't give up."
"We promise to keep it short for you." The woman laughed.
"Grand."
"Where did you hide this time?" The question continued.
"At Aston."
"Is it nice there?" The woman said as the interview continued.
"It's very green."
"Oh, I bet. How are you finding this season as it is slowly ending? What are your plans for next season, there are only a handful of seats left?" The interviewer pressed as you shifted in your seat knowing what she was out for. Carlos took your Williams seat for next year, so the question arises, 'what should you do?'.
Obviously you were in talks with a few people, looking over the open seats and even at spots in other categories like wec.
"It's been crazy, but I know what I'm doing."
"So you got a plan?" The woman asked curiously. "Is it for vcarb? They've been looking at you, I've heard."
You shrugged pursing your lips . "RedBull sugar free? Who knows."
"You're really not giving us anything, aren't you?" She interviewer chuckled and you smiled cockily.
"Nope." You looked over the camera personal, as the interviewer searched her notes. "Are we finished? Do you just cut to some dramatic scenes of me now?"
The lady shook her head chuckling. "Not quite, sorry."
Internally sighing in disappointment you nodded.
"Alright."
___
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[CAPTION] thank you Charles (my secret santa) for the invisability cloak, now I can hide even better☺️🧙‍♀️
charles_leclerc: you are welcome ☺️🥰 yourusername: 😘
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hahaifolded · 3 months ago
Text
141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Joint Mission Author's Notes: This was supposed to be short but I had an epiphany after I finished Warnings: MDNI, Angst
This was a standard joint mission. Two teams, one task, in and out, and it's done. So why did John Price feel so nervous?
The mission seemed pretty straightforward and the new guys seemed formidable. Not at the same caliber as the 141, but they're getting there.
Really, everything looks fine, so why is he nervous?
But it didn't matter as he pushes his concern to the side as he greets the team of three on the tarmac. After some quick introductions, he guides the trio to the conference room where the rest of his team waits.
As they got closer, John felt his heart beating faster and faster. What was going on with him?
And he wasn't the only one as Johnny also had a bad feeling about this mission. However, unlike his captain, he actually voiced his concerns out loud.
"And why were we paired up with these guys again?" the Scotsman asks for the 5th time today. Ghost glares at him while Kyle groans. Gaz shoots you a quick glance to see if that had caught your attention. It didn't.
"I mean, why couldn't we get Farah and Alex to help us on this or even Los Vaqueros?" Soap adds.
"Laswell's orders," Kyle grunts out.
Honestly, the fellow Sergeant wasn't sure what the concern was. He could tell Price was also feeling something, but what? Laswell has never led them astray so this should turn out fine, right? The last time Laswell sent someone, things started out perfectly. As long as the 141 can act right, then things should go swimmingly.
Well, after first introductions, Kyle realizes that they're not the ones that need to act right. It's the new guys. Gaz caught the extra attention you got from the three.
"Sergeant Keegan P. Russ, at your service."
"Sergeant Kim Hong-jin, but you can call me Horangi."
"Lieutenant Nikto."
That last one would not have been so bad if you weren't the only one who got a handshake from the Russian.
Kyle knew he wasn't the only one to notice as he caught Ghost clenching his fist.
And Ghost was not going to let you go without a fight.
"Isn't there supposed to be four of you? Where's your captain?" he asks. Ghost stands tall and stares them down.
The three don't react as they take a seat at the table. It isn't until the three have settled in their seats that one of them speaks up.
"Our Captain already talked to yours so don't worry about it," Keegan replies. He stares back at Ghost, clearly not intimidated by the British Lieutenant.
"Great, so we're stuck with a Yankee, a gambling addict, and a commie," Ghost groans out.
"That's enough," you bark out. You shoot an incredulous look at the Lieutenant who immediately buckles down. You order everyone to take a seat so you can start your presentation. "The faster we get this done, the faster I can get back to work and you guys can continue whatever this is," you chastise.
The new team immediately voices their agreement which made Ghost's blood boil.
As you go over the details of the mission, Price looks around the room and catches the way the three new soldiers stared at you. Something in their eyes didn't sit right with him. It looked way too familiar, it almost reminded him of his bo... oh hell no.
He calls out your name and says, "you know what, I can take it from here." He pushes his chair out and places his hands on his knees, getting ready to stand up. However, before he can even get up, you immediately speak up.
"What do you think you're doing?" You ask. You're clearly not impressed.
Price feels the energy in the room shift. He looks at you sheepishly and repeats himself. "I can finish it from here."
You scoff. "Captain Price," you slowly say, "what's my position here?"
"The 141's Intelligence Operative."
"Close, the 141's temporary Intelligence Operative," you correct him. John feels his heart clench. You fail to notice his heartbreak and continue, "and what's my role as the Intelligence Operative?"
"Deal with anything and everything that has to do with intelligence. I think I got it, I'm--"
"No, no, no. I'm not done," you bite back. You're obviously annoyed. It seemed like you were annoyed most days here. "And this presentation, what is it about?"
"Intelligence surrounding our newest mission," John grumbles out.
"Okay, okay. So, if this presentation has to do with intelligence, who should do it?" You stare at him, eyes wide, waiting for an answer.
Horangi raises his hand which catches you off guard. "Yes, Sergeant Kim." Now you're sheepish, embarrassed that the new guys had to see you like this.
"Please, call me Horangi," he assures you. Much to John's dismay, that seemed to ease your concerns. "If I may, I think the answer that you're looking for and your captain forgot is that you should be doing this presentation, and I completely agree." Despite your straight face, your eyes glowed with content. You thanked Sergeant Kim and turned your attention back to Price.
"Is that okay with you Captain? May I continue?"
John just nods, feeling absolutely embarrassed and ashamed with himself. What the fuck was he thinking?
As you continue with your presentation, the 141 oscillate their attention from you to the new guys. Ghost catches the gentle look in Nikto's eyes. Johnny recognizes the look of admiration on the Keegan's face and Kyle notices the excitement in Horangi's eyes. And Price finally understands the root of his worries as he realizes that this new task force is looking at you the exact same way that you used to look at them.
It seemed like the one thing that the boys were avoiding could very much happen now and it would all be their fault.
Word Count: 980
More Thoughts - Next Thought
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discotitsposts · 8 months ago
Text
strawberry lipgloss🍓
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spencer reid x reader (this one’s for my strawberry lovers)
spencer can’t keep his senses off reader when she wears a lipgloss that drives him insane (wrote this since i got a new strawberry lipgloss today)
-🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—
It’s 8:04 am when she walks into the BAU.
Spencer’s working on some files when he notices you are 4 minutes later than your usual time of arrival. He furrows his brow at this strange abnormality but shrugs it off quickly. Maybe you just had woken up late. Your alarm didn’t go off perhaps. Or maybe there was traffic. No, that couldn’t be it. Not from the route you go or at that time. That area doesn’t get congested at all, if ever.
In any case it wasn’t Spencer’s business. Hotch’s yes. Not Spencer’s. You had no need to explain yourself to him. He wasn’t your boyfriend no matter how much he wished and hoped he could be.
He hadn’t been one to believe in wishes but his last birthday it was what he’d wished on the candles while you’d smiled at him sweetly. You were doing that now. You smiled when you saw him every morning. He adored it.
As you approach his desk you chime, “Good morning Spencer!” in a sing-songy voice per usual.
You get closer and drop a small bag on his desk. That’s when he notices. You smell like a fresh baked strawberry pie. He knew you normally wore a sweet vanilla perfume. You were wearing it today, he could smell it. Something was different though, there was a hint of strawberry.
Unfortunately for him, you walk away and sit down at your own desk. You scent disappears with you. Spencer frowns and opens the bag you’d given him. The smell of the contents immediately hits his nostrils.
A chocolate strawberry donut!
You notice him pick up the donut. A smile forms on his face.
“Thanks!” He takes a bite.
“Delicious!”
“I knew you’d like it. It’s both of our favorite flavors!”
Spencer smiles at you. You were always doing kind gestures like this for him. You did kind favors for a lot of people, but for Spencer it felt so special when you did things for him. It’s why he was so in love with you. He goes back to his files happily eating.
Minutes later, you’re staring at him debating whether or not you should ask him a question. You decide to ask. You stand up and walk over to him. He smells the sweet strawberry scent radiating off of you and looks up.
“Yes?” He’s happily staring at you with those big brown eyes. Getting lost in the sight of you.
“Could you please do something for me, Spencer?”
“You can do whatever you want to me…” He says without thinking. He quickly corrects himself with, “I mean what do you need me to do? For you.” He clears his throat. “Anything.”
You reach into your purse and pull out a small red tube. “Could you put this on for me please?” You open the tube. “I lost my mirror.”
“Of course.” He takes the tube and his hand shakes a little. He squeezes the tube a little so the product comes up and presses the applicator onto your lips. He spreads the product over your mouth being careful to not get it anywhere but your lips.
The scent was just like strawberry jam.
When he’s done, he can’t stop staring at your shiny lips. He can see his reflection in them.
Oh, how he’d like to press his own to yours and never let go. The strong scent of strawberries, now dominating his nostrils, wasn’t helping.
Unconsciously, he leans in ever so slightly. You notice and start to lean in too. Following his movements. You’re just centimeters away from touching each other.
You would have too, if JJ hadn’t walked in and announced a new case.
When you meet in the conference room, Spencer sits next to you. He keeps inhaling your scent.
When you’re on the jet you’re reapplying your perfume, you spritz it behind your ears, on your wrists, and your ankles.
Spencer watches in awe. You put the perfume bottle back in the bag and pick up the strawberry lip balm again. He’s awaiting you to ask him to reapply it for you since you’d told him you’d lost your mirror. You reach for something else inside your purse. You pull something out.
A small pink mirror.
You hadn’t lost it. Spencer smiles to himself.
“Just me or does she smell extra good today?” Morgan observes and motions his head towards you. Spencer nods in agreement.
“Yeah…”
You’re curled up reading a book when Spencer sits next to you. You look up at him and give him a warm smile.
“Nice mirror you got there.” He smirks. Confidence was spewing off him all of a sudden.
“So why did you tell me you lost it?” He asked, he knew the answer but wanted to hear you admit it. He suddenly had the urge to make you squirm.
“Um, you’re a profiler shouldn’t you know?” You retort.
Spencer stares at you for a second, unsure how to respond. The corners of his mouth curl into a smile when he thinks of something.
“Well then, I’ll tell you why, you wanted me to notice that wonderful scent of strawberries. You wanted me to look at your lips and want you so badly my bones hurt. Anyone who knows you, knows, you never leave home without your mirror.” Spencer innocently smiles.
“Why did you play along if you knew?”
He leans in closer and whispers in your ear, “I can’t resist you. Or your lipgloss.” He smiles and goes back to where he was sitting before. You stare at him in shock.
Morgan pats his arm and says, “My man!”
Then Spencer does the unthinkable and pulls out his cell phone, a very rare occasion. You feel a twinge of jealously at the thought he might be texting someone else, when your phone dings with a text.
Spencer: Would you like to have dinner at Tony’s with me this weekend? Like as a date?
You: I’d love to, but why didn’t you just ask when you were over here?
Spencer: Look up.
You look up and see Morgan teasing Spencer about whispering in your ear. He’s pretending to hump a pillow while Hotch is holding his face in his hands in disbelief.
“Ask her out kid! Strike while the iron is hot!” Morgan then motions spanking. Hotch looks like he is on the verge of tears.
You laugh and go back to your text thread.
You: I am so sorry.
You look over again and see Spencer smiling at his phone.
Spencer: Can’t wait for our date! Make sure to wear that strawberry lip gloss.
You: Of course, xoxo💋
the end, for now
-
i might do a part two about the date not sure yet
update part two is here
-
tags 🍓-
if you’d like to be tagged u can comment a 🍓
@whoisspence
@starshinegarcia
@fictionalobssed
@exoticisles
@in-another-april
@gallifreyan-idiocracy
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falling-endlessly · 1 year ago
Text
Try Me
Vox x Female!Reader
Summary: You still have a few lessons to learn when it comes to teasing your boss.
Warnings: NSFW (18+), dub-con (kind of) INSPIRED BY THIS POST
Vox deserved a pat on the back for his patience. Truly.
You were relentless, hovering in his periphery, making him tense in anticipation for the next bullshit you were about to pull. First it was lingering touches on his hand when you brought him his coffee. Then it was bending over right in front of him in the conference room, enough for him to glimpse the pretty red and blue thong you were wearing underneath. But really, the cherry on top was the way you "accidentally" tripped on your heels, conveniently falling into him. One manicured hand dragged down his chest, the other down his thigh, right beside his straining cock as profuse, insincere apologies spilled from your lips.
Suffice to say, he was at his fucking limit. His self restraint was impressive, but not infinite.
"Mister Vox, where are we going?" You frowned questioningly as you scurried to keep up with his fast paces.
"A new office just opened up on the next floor," he hummed. "I figured you'd like to take a look at it before deciding if you want it."
"Oh, really? That's great!" You grinned, before it faded into a puzzled look. "But, why didn't you just tell me the room number? Not to pry, but you seem busy today, and I'd hate to distract you from your work."
Vox's smile strained, a low electric buzz emanating from his speakers. "Not to worry, my dear. I'd really rather show you myself."
You blinked innocently. "Well, if you insist."
He sent you a promising grin, but otherwise remained silent.
The walk to the "empty office" dragged on excruciatingly. Even if the whole floor was actually empty, he wanted to keep up with the facade you both were playing at, and not shove you into the first room with a door that he saw (even if he really, really wanted to) .
"Here we are," he announced cheerfully. The room was actually the most expansive one on the floor, completely furnished with a modern work station, a built in gas fireplace, and plush velvet couches. You barely took a step inside, eyes wide with awe, before he grabbed your neck, slamming you against the wall as he kicked the door closed with his foot. It locked automatically.
"Tell me, did you have fun?" He sneered, tightening his grip when you didn't respond immediately.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't—" you winced when he pressed closer, before choking out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really?" He smirked dangerously, eyes wide and unhinged, before a clawed hand travelled down your waist. The tearing sound of your clothes made you gasp, your torn skirt falling uselessly to the ground as he greedily inspected your underwear. A slender finger hooked under the waistband, before letting it snap back against your skin.
"Red and blue stripes," he snorted. "A coincidence?"
"Fuck you," you spat, but there was an excited glint in your eyes.
"Oh, you will," he chuckled darkly, before grabbing you and roughly forcing you to kneel beside the desk. He took a seat on the office chair, grinning wickedly as he spread his legs leisurely. "But you're going to have to earn it first, doll."
Your mouth watered, hands grasping greedily at his knees, before sliding up to his crotch. Vox groaned when you slid your fingers over the edges of his cock, just barely missing where he really wanted them. You repeated this action a few more times, watching with satisfaction as his brow twitched in mounting frustration, before he finally snapped, grabbing your chin harshly and forcing you to look up at him.
"Fuckin' tease," he growled, baring his teeth. "You're going to regret that." His voice took on a deeper, more electronic tone at the end of his sentence.
"Will I?" You smiled coyly, making his grin widen. Challenge accepted.
In one smooth motion, he unzipped his pants and dragged down his underwear, making his pulsing cock spring up from its confines. Vox grit his teeth when the open air hit it, overly sensitive from your constant teasing.
You stared at it with wide eyes, mouth open as you took in the electric blue lines running up his shaft in a technological design, all leading to the weeping blue tip. Your warm breath puffed on the feverish skin, making him close his eyes in concentration, regulating his breathing.
"Something wrong, sir?" You asked innocently, and he almost busted on the spot from just that title alone. Here you were on your knees for him, and yet he was the one under your control. Oh, the irony.
"Not at all," he growled, fisting a handful of your hair at the back of your head, before shoving you forward onto his cock.
And holy fuck, the way you opened your mouth so obligingly, like you were waiting for this moment—like you'd practiced for it. He had to stab his own leg with his claws to control himself. Coppery blood ran down his skin in small rivulets.
You moaned deeply around his cock, the vibrations making him throw his head back with a gasp. "F-Fuck."
You glanced up at him knowingly, your pretty eyes batting at him as your lips slid up and down his dick. Then you swirled your tongue under his shaft, and wasn't that something. Vox let out a guttural sound that he didn't even know he was capable of, barely able to keep eye contact with you as he guided your head on his cock.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he panted, legs trembling with the effort not to cum. He needed to teach you a lesson, after all, and he couldn't do that with a limp dick.
Then, you did something that made his vision fucking white out. You started to swallow—and good god, he couldn't keep this up anymore.
He shoved you harshly off of his dick, your mouth leaving with a loud pop.
"Brat," he bared his teeth, before clawing violently at your shirt. The thin material didn't stand a chance, fluttering off in shredded ribbons. Then he ripped apart your bra, making your round tits bounce out. His jaw dropped a little as he stared at them, his cock twitching in longing. Fuck, was any part of you not perfect?
"Hey," you protested, glaring at him indignantly. "Those were expensive."
"I'll buy you ten more," he said distractedly, before pulling you up to stand. Your hands gripped the edges of his backrest, tits hovering inches from his face.
"I think it's time we give these," his hands came up to grip them, squeezing them playfully. "A little love, hm?"
To your amazement, a glowing blue tongue poked out of his mouth, curling around a pebbled bud. Your jaw dropped in ecstasy, unable to take your eyes off of the surreal view of Vox licking at your tits, red eyes flickering up to meet your half-lidded ones. You pushed closer in a silent plea for more.
"Ah, ah," Vox retracted his tongue, making you whimper from the loss. "Behave, or this stops now."
You nodded quickly, staring down at him pleadingly.
He let go of your tits, unsatisfied. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, I'll behave," you whispered desperately.
"Yes, what?" He sneered.
"Yes sir," you cried, moaning loudly when he grabbed a hold of your tits again, tugging you closer.
"Good girl," he grinned wickedly, before his tongue was generously laving over your tits, swirling attentively over your nipples.
"A-Ahhh," you sobbed, struggling to stay still as his hand squeezed and massaged your mounds.
"Thought you could tease me and get away with it? You fucking slut," he growled, harshly sucking a nipple into his mouth. He released it after a few moments, digging his claws into your flesh. "Or maybe, you wanted this to happen," he grinned knowingly, making you shiver. "Oh you did, didn't you?"
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, "Sweetheart, if you wanted me to split you open on my cock, all you had to do was ask."
Your breath hitched as he grabbed your hips, turning you around and shoving you onto the desk. "Hands above your head." He ordered firmly.
You obediently laid your palms flat on the surface, above your head. Your breath quickened in excitement as you felt his hands grab your ass, squeezing tightly and spreading your cheeks.
"Fuck," you heard him curse, before slender fingers crept between your thighs, rubbing gently. Your legs trembled as he easily slipped in a finger, pumping it a few times before slipping it out again.
Unable to hold back your curiosity, you turned back to look at him, only for your breath to stutter at the sight.
Vox had his eyes closed, long tongue swirling around his middle and index fingers like a lollipop. Your unmistakable slick dripped onto his tongue, and he greedily swallowed it with a contented sigh.
"Fucking delicious," he grinned, leering at your trembling form. "What, too much for you to handle?"
"Try me," you gasped, making his eye widen, electricity sparking from it.
"I'll make you beg for my cock," he laughed dangerously, before disappearing between your legs.
You barely had the chance to process what just happened, before a strangled scream left your lips, your hips shoving further into his mouth.
"Shhh babygirl," he pulled back, squeezing your ass gently. "Wouldn't want someone to hear, now would you?"
"No sir," you bit your lip, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
"See? This is why you're my favorite," he chuckled, giving your pussy a rough pat. Then he replaced it with his warm tongue, and your eyes rolled back in your head.
He flicked it gently over your clit, pulling back to lather over your dripping hole, before circling back teasingly. You shuddered, tears freely streaming down your face as you moaned softly. A tight pressure was building in your stomach, growing closer and closer to snapping the more attention he showered you in.
"V-Vox," you gasped out. "I—I'm gonna—"
He pulled away abruptly, making you whimper pitifully. Your hips canted towards him desperately, trying to chase your high, but he only moved back.
"What, did you think I was going to let you cum on my face?" He laughed mockingly, digging his claws into your ass. "After what you did today? Not a chance."
He pressed you further into the desk, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Nah, a bitch like you needs to be taught a lesson."
Your mouth fell open as he pushed into you in one smooth motion, the ridges of his cock stretching you out painfully as he settled in deep.
"You're going to learn what happens when you misbehave," he punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust, making you choke. "You should be happy I have so much patience, or I would have fucked you right there on the conference table in front of everyone."
The mental image of him fucking you shamelessly in public made you moan, your hips wiggling further onto his cock. He growled, hands sliding up to hold your wrists down.
And then he started pounding into you. And you screamed.
"What's wrong? That pretty little mouth got nothing to say now?" He panted, gritting his teeth as he closed his eyes. "Where did all of that fight go, hm?"
"F-Fu—ahn—you!"
"Sweetheart, I'm balls deep inside of you right now," he rolled his hips to prove his statement.  "Try again."
"V-Vox, please!" You sobbed, cheek pressing into the surface of the desk.
"Tell me what you need, babygirl," he grinned.
"I-I want to cum," you hiccuped, vision blurring from pleasure.
"Aw, do you? I don't know about that," his grin widened, claws tightening on your wrists. "Do you really deserve it?"
"Please sir," you begged, turning around to look at him tearfully. "Please let me cum on your cock."
His grin faltered at the pleading look in your eyes, his screen tinting red as his teeth clenched. "Fucking brat," he gritted out, before his pace sped up, a clawed hand reaching down to rub tight circles over your clit.
Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes crossed, his dick splitting you open just like he promised. The coil in your stomach built up once more, stretching tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your vision going white as you shook uncontrollably.
"Vox!" You cried, waves of pleasure cresting in your stomach, intensified by the fact that he was still harshly pounding into you.
Vox's breath hitched at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, screen glitching in euphoria. His thrusts lost their steady rhythm, instead hammering into you erratically as he chased his own orgasm.
Vox's claws dug gouges into the desk as he groaned your name, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside of you. You shivered weakly at the feeling of his thick, warm cum filling you up.
When he'd finally spent everything he had, Vox pulled out of you gently, making you both gasp at the feeling. You heard the sound of a nearby drawer opening, before a wad of Kleenex gently wiped you dry. When both of you were adequately cleaned, warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a comforting chest. He sat you both down in the office chair, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.
"So? Mister Vox," you glanced up at him teasingly. "How was that?"
"Pretty fucking hot, babe," he laughed, squeezing you tightly. "Seriously, great idea. But I'm picking the next one."
"Yeah, yeah," you snuggled deeper into his chest, yawning tiredly. "Do you want to watch a movie when we get back home? I saw this really cool thriller trailer yesterday and I think you'll like it."
Vox smiled gently at you, closing his eyes as he pulled you closer. "Sure doll, anything you want."
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nanivinsmoke · 4 months ago
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Hello nani!! I just wanted to say I just read your all of me logan x reader and I love it! Was wondering If you could do logan x reader smut with the song ride by somo (been having it in my head for a while) but if you can't that's fine keep up the awesome work love!!
Ride .
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✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader
♪my body on your body baby, stickin like some glue…♪
✩ you usually don’t sleep with your coworkers, but during this mission….the tension between you two becomes unbearable.
✩ tags: nasty, slutty sex, sex in a car, riding, oral sex, creampie, rough fucking, everything is slutty when it comes to him, jealous logan, you are a teacher at the Xavier school for the gifted, added some plot too, you can control any form of matter, liquid is your fave tho…
✩ note: hello! thanks for the req, anon this song choice 🙂‍↕️ I’ve got freaky followers! also had xmen/x2 wolverine in mind. song at the bottom of the page!
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Charles left you in charge for today, something he does once every two months with his head teachers. He did it so you guys could gain experience and know how to take charge if something ever happened to him. It happens more frequently than you’d think.
Before you, it was Storm and she did an amazing job. Everyone loved her as the school’s professor, there were less accidents within the school and more mutants had come too. Unlike Scott, who was more brutal with his approach, leading to some students leaving the academy. Charles was upset and even though he didn’t show it, everyone knew it.
However, unlike those two, Logan was a little more reckless with his approach. There’s was fight breaking out almost everyday, but those same fights were mended that same day they happened. Plus, tons of students joined just because they heard THE Wolverine was there. He might’ve been a dick most of the time, however he had a heart.
And that’s why you decided to partner up with him for today’s mission. Well, that was partially true. In all honesty you had the biggest crush on him and you wanted to get the opportunity to be with him all day. Hoping to get the chance to jump his bones.
You entered the conference room with a smile, your chunky, patent leather boots echoing against the wooden floors; turning your coworkers attention over to you. Your hair flowed beautifully as you made your way in front of the round tables cleaning your throat while looking at their faces—your eyes lingering on Logan’s a little bit longer, before you spoke.
“Charles left me in charge for this month. For my very first day, i expect great results! In order for great results to happen, we have to put in the effort. I compared the results from the last couple of months. Logan and Storm, the two of you were outstanding. Quantity of students and Quality of missions were in our high range, however with you Scott……we were very low.” You turned your attention over to him, watching his body tense up and earning a chuckle from Logan.
You cleared your throat before continuing, “This isn’t to bash anyone, but to help us grow as a school and as teacher’s. These mutants come from all over to us because we understand them. They want to be comfortable and not reminded of their past lives. So, in order for this all to happen, im giving you all new partners.” There was some whispers as they turned to look at their current partners.
“Storm and Jean, you two are together. Hank and Nightcrawler, Scott and Colossus. Logan?” He pulled out his cigar and connect his eyes with yours.
“You’re with me.”
The two of you walked side to side as you approached the school’s parking lot passing the variety of cars, on the way to your own. “So, what’s this mission about?” He spoke from behind you, his eyes following your hips as you walked, trailing down to your ass and how heavy it looked in those black leather jean’s you were wearing.
“We’re looking for a mutant named Cupid and no he’s not the blonde bitch from Olympus.” You cursed, earning a chuckle from Logan.
Finally reaching your car, Logan was amazed at your taste. Your car was a matte black dodge charger, with lightly tinted windows and matching leather seats. He hopped in the passenger seat while you occupied the driver’s. “Tell me more about this love bastard,” now you were the one to chuckle. God was he hot.
“Cupid’s been causing a lot of issues in city, he currently resides in a small town and the mayor has asked for our help. His powers are based on two emotes everyone has. Love and Hate. He can control a person based on those emotions.” You pulled out of the lot, driving to your mission’s destination.
“Now, we can either do this Charle’s way or my way.” He turned to you, with an eyebrow raise, puffing on his cigar.
“And what way is that?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, baby~”
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The car ride was quiet, besides your radio playing and the sound of his breathing while puffed on his cigar. However, Logan took glances at you from here and there. Watching how your eyes would gleam as the sun hit it, how you would bob head to the songs you liked, and those lips….god your lips looked heavenly. He could stare at those all day, wishing he could kiss them forever.
“Logan?” You called out and he snapped out of his days, looking around before looking back at you. “You okay? We’re here.” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded, the two of you stepping out of the car and approaching the apple green house.
You lead the way, while Logan watched your back. Those hazel eyes stuck on your derrière. “I don’t know exactly how he uses his powers, so just be on your game, Lo.” You turned your head slightly, giving him a small smile before turning around to knock on the white door. A few seconds after, a male appeared wearing a ruby red robe and blue boxer’s, pinching his nose as he sniffed.
You turned to look at your partner before back at the mutant. “Are you, Ezekiel?” You asked, a smile on your face while Logan wore his usual resting face. “Depends, are you the cops?” He asked, eyes falling from yours and onto Logan’s before going back to yours. You shook your head and smiled once more.
“Do you mind if we come in? We aren’t going to hurt you, we just wanna talk.” He said nothing, studying both of your faces before turning away; letting you both in. You followed after him, looking around his house—trying to understand him before speaking with him. Logan watched as the kid plopped on his messy couch, pulling out a small trinket and sniffing the contents. He let out an exasperated sigh and locked eyes with Logan.
“Want some?”
“I’m good, bub.” You finally joined them and sat down in the small chair across from him, Logan opting to stand besid you—cigar in the corner of his mouth.
“We’re from the Charles Xavier school for the gifted mutants. We heard about the little trouble you’ve been causing here.” He looked at you and relaxed on the couch, smirking.
“Trouble? I just help those that needed it, isn’t that what you do? I heard about this school….this Xavier guy seems like a quack. Not interested, but if you lose the top, I might be convinced.” You could sense Logan’s mood change and you held your hand out, letting him know that you had this. Guess it’s time to do it your way. Sorry Professor.
You slowly undid the buttons that held your black button up together, freeing some of your cleavage, making both Logan and Ezekiel look at you. You stared at him, smirk etching onto your face while you used your powers on the cocky mutant. He started to choke and gasp for air, causing Logan to look at him and then at you.
“Listen, do you want to die? These people are going to get fed up with you quite soon and when they do, they won’t stop until they hunt you down and have your dumb blonde head on a stick. But why wait for that when I can do it myself?” Your tone was cold and your eyes had darkened, scaring the mutant. His pale face was turning a shade of pink and Logan was getting worried.
“Princess….” He started off, but you held your hand out again. “What do ya say? Want me to kill you? Or will you let us help you and keep you safe?” You released the pressure on his throat, letting Ezekiel catch his breath. He nodded and let out a breathless okay, and you smiled; quickly buttoning your top back up before standing on your two feet.
“Good, see you at the school. Logan, give him the card.” You said leaving the two men in the house. Logan dropped the card onto the dark oak coffee table, before looking at the mutant.
“Dude, she’s crazy!”
“Tell me bout’ it,” He muttered on his way out.
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You sat in the passenger seat while Logan drove, looking out the window, in complete silence. There was some obvious tension there and you were trying your best to find out why.
“Logan? Is there something wrong?” You turned and looked at him, eyes dancing across his face. He was silent and then he looked at you, his mouth painted with a scowl.
“Yeah there is.”
“What is it?” He said nothing and you continued to look at him, before he pulled the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park and turning it off—unbuckling his seat belt along with yours.
“Think that was okay? What you pulled back there? Showing him what’s mine?” Your eyes widened and you could feel a throbbing sensation below, you crossed your legs in your seat and kept your face unreadable. Seeing you show off your breasts to the mutant had Logan seething, those were for his eyes only. You were his.
“Did Cupid use his powers on you? You okay.—“ He cut you off and pulled you by your hair, forcing your face towards his and pressing his lips onto yours—which you happily accepted. His lips were so intoxicating and you couldn’t—didn’t want to pull yourself from them. Finally getting what you wanted and when he pulled away, spit trail following, you whimpered; eyes plagued with arousal.
“Logan…” you whispered and he chuckled. “I know princess, I can smell how much you want it.” He patted his lap and you practically hopped out of your seat and into his lap, reconnecting your lips while grinding against his bulge that pressed into your middle.
Both of your hands roamed each other’s bodies, kissing and licking on each other’s sensitive spots, the car steaming up from your actions. Soon, you couldn’t bear the teasing anymore and you slowly pulled your clothes off; your top along with your bra being flung into the passenger seat—while you continued to occupy his lap.
His large hands cupping your breasts, earning a soft moan from you, before he replaced his hands with his mouth; his warm tongue glued onto your sensitive nipples. You couldn’t help your moans, hands tugging on his hair, lower half grinding on his clothed cock.
“Please Lo….neeed you to fuck me,~” You begged, moaning when he put your nipple in between his teeth, teasing it lightly.
“Gotta taste you first. Get that pretty ass in the back, princess.” You happily hopped in your car’s back seat, tugging your jeans off your thighs while he climbed in the back right behind you, pulling the jeans completely off of you—putt them with the rest of your clothes.
He eyed your half naked body, licking his lips while he trailed down from your face to the wet spot that appeared on your dark grey panties. “So wet for me. Never give this pussy up, okay?” He spanked your clothed cunt, making you yelp out and nodded your head; bottom lip between your teeth—watching his every move.
He pulled off his leather jacket, and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles; his muscles practically ripping through his beater. Both set of lips flushed with wetness, ready for what’s to come next and when he connected his mouth with your sopping wet cunt after tearing those panties off ya—your eyes immediately rolled back into your head.
Logan’s own eyes closing after tasting you, savoring how sweet you tasted. He had been thinking about this ever since he met you. He had fantasized about you every night, dreaming about you cumming all over his face. And now here he was, fulfilling his wish.
His tongue lapped up your juices like he was a dog drinking from his bowl, sucking on your throbbing clit; making you let out a series of moans—hands connecting with his hair again. “F-f-fuck….feels soo good, Lo’.” He hummed in response, lips still attached to your cunt while he added two fingers into the mix, pumping in and out of your wetness.
You were a babbling mess, moving your hips up and down; almsot riding his face—orgasm seconds away and you desperately needed to let go. “Gonna cum for me princess? Go ahead, cum all over my face. I need to taste how gushy this cunt can be.”
He was so nasty with his words, you couldn’t help but to let go; cumming all over his face and creaming on his fingers. Logan didn’t stop lapping up your juices or fucking your with his fingers, he kept going—wanting to drain all of you, until you had to beg him to stop. You pulled him up by his hair and smashed your plump lips on his, tasting yourself—moaning while he palmed your still throbbing cunt.
You pulled away and pulled his boxers down by the hem, freeing his cock; his eyes glued to yours as you immediately went to rubbing on his head. His translucent slick melting into your hands while you rubbed and jerked his mushroom tip. You watched his face contort with pleasure, his hips slowly pumping up into your fist.
“Stop teasing me, princess.” He let out a small whimper and you felt a heartbeat shoot through your core after hearing it. Logan watched as you spread your legs across his lap, squatting and angling his dick at your entrance—lowering yourself down and hissing from how he stretched you out. He was so big, pushing your walls past its normal limit. It had been a while, but none of them had ever reached his size.
“So big…” his hand fell on your hip, fingers grasping onto your ass, holding you when you finally lowered down onto him all the way.
“I know baby, but you can take it.” He slapped your ass making a slutty mewl leave your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, cunt clenching and unclenching around him before you started to bounce on him. You gasped as his tip practically kissed your cervix, his dick so deep inside of you.
But, as you continued to move, that threshold of pain vanished and was replaced with pleasure. You happily bounced on his dick, skin clapping with each move you made; his lips ghosting yours as your face was mere inches apart.
“Just like that, princess….shit,” You were so fucking tight and wet, cunt so slippery, creating a sheen of wetness on his cock. The mutant never had anything like this and he wasn’t going to give it up to anybody.
“Showing off those pretty titties to other men? Fuck, i could kill him. Want me to do that?” He grunted, pushing your hips down, making you take him even deeper. You shook your head and gripped onto his muscular shoulders, keeping steady as you bounced.
“N-no…I'm sorry, daddy! Fuck—you’re reaching so deep, Logan!” You were clinging to him so tightly, the man was losing it. He pushed you all the way down, big rough hands gripped your waist, while his tip was pressed right in your cervix—before he scooted halfway off the car seat and pushing your torso closer to his, proceeding to drill your cunt sloppy.
The loud squelching noise combined with your sweet noises was enough fuel for the wild mutant. Your ass jiggling with each movement, rocking the car as you bounced. You were close, so close now and he felt it. Felt how your walls were spasming around his girth and how louder your moans got when he hit that spot over and over. And he was right behind you too.
“Let it go, princess. Cum for daddy~” His voice was deep and sensual, adding to the intense pleasure you were receiving—making it easier for you to cum. You were seeing white as you came; nails digging into his shoulder blades while gushing all over his cock.
And as he continued to split your cunt in half, his own release came down hard and he was pumping milky white ropes inside of you. He growled in your ear, sending shivers down your back and straight to your cunt—earning a stream of clear arousal from it, drenching his cock and the seat beneath him. You had never squirted before and with Logan being the first, had you deeper in love than you were ever before. You were his for the taking.
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After cleaning you up and helping you get dressed, Logan left you in the backseat of your car before starting the car up and continuing with the drive to the mansion. He kept his eyes on you in the rear view mirror, watching you as you slept; a smile etched on his face before he placed a cigar into his mouth.
He was in love and he was never going to lose you. You were his best rider after all.
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lovinglokilaufeyson · 6 months ago
Text
Five Minutes - L.L.
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Pairings: Loki x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not Proofread, Smut, Oblivious!Reader, Reader in Denial, Horny!Loki, Loki's use of magic, Intern!Reader, Dubcon (if you squint), Threesome (technically), Mutual Pining
Wordcount: 2,009
Summary: Loki has it bad for you. Having recently graduated from college, Tony Stark recruited you to work for him in his lab. A certain tall, dark and mysterious god takes a quick liking to you. He loves teasing you, and it's very clear that he wants you. To everyone but you, of course. Loki begins to use his magic to strip you of your defenses, but how will you respond?
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this little imagine I wrote up! As always, thank you all for your support on all of my other stories, I appreciate every single one of you! Without further ado, some fresh Loki smut.
The Avengers compound amazed you. There was so much to see, and Tony Stark had become somewhat of a father figure for you. He was very encouraging and for the most part, you were enjoying your start at the tower. You felt like the Avengers were like your family now. Natasha, Thor, and Steve were all like older siblings to you. Thor's brother Loki, however, had made several advances towards you. You always felt that he was teasing or that he wouldn't be interested in someone like you. You were a mere mortal, and although you were intelligent, Loki was a god.
However, he was a god who knew what and who he wanted. And he had his eyes set on you. The team didn't completely trust Loki yet. So, whenever they found themselves on a mission and you were stuck working in the lab, Loki always seemed to make his way up there to see you. On a typical day, he was always hiding in the library. But whenever you were in the lab alone, he was there to find you. Today was one of those days.
Loki also loved to comment on your lab gear, as he thought it was adorable. Your goggles, lab coat, your face shield. It was just simply adorable. So, when he spotted you in the lab, doing some experiments, he internally grinned. He opened up the glass door leading inside, and immediately you glanced up at him. "Oh darling, why can't you just be mine already?" You giggled, but avoided the question. "Loki, how many times have I told you that you need to be in proper lab attire to be in the lab? It is far too danger-" Loki shushed you by placing his index finger over your lips.
"And how many times have I told you I'm a god, love?" You glared up into his eyes. "That doesn't mean you're immortal from chemical burns, Loki."
"Aren't you bored up here?" He asked you suddenly. "No, thank you for asking. I'm quite entertained by what I'm doing here."
"So that means you don't want me to tear those clothes off of you?" Loki proposed. "I- I- um-" You stuttered, clearly flustered by his question. He shushed you again with his index finger. You blushed, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm working."
"You can't just take a little fifteen minute break?" He pondered. You went to speak, before he spoke again. "Actually, we both know it'd turn into much longer than that." He winked, and your cheeks turned into an even deeper red hue.
"Okay, doll. I'll leave you be. For now..." The god left your presence, and suddenly you felt a longing in your chest for him. You did like Loki. A lot. But you felt that his teasing you must be completely silly and only due to the fact that he was completely and entirely out of your league.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
The next time you saw Loki was when the Avengers returned from their mission later that day. Tony called a post-mission meeting in the team room to talk about strengths and weaknesses of the team and how improvements could be made.
You sat down with your cup of water, ready to talk with everyone about how the mission had gone. Everyone was alive, so the conversation was promising. In addition, no one ended up in the medical wing of the tower. Therefore, the meeting was to take place in the conference room in mere minutes. Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, yourself, Loki, and several others sat among a large table.
Tony began with an overview of the mission, and although you tried your best to pay attention, you couldn't help but zone out unexpectedly several different times. You went for your glass of water, taking a small sip.
However, Loki had other plans. He formulated that a combination of your white blouse and water would be a delightfully - nearly lethal - one. With a flick of his hand, the water slipped out of the glass and onto the fabric that now coated your chest. The fabric that once hung loose, complimenting the shape of your breasts now completely surrounded them, and Loki loved the sight. You cursed to yourself, then got up and retreated to your room to change. Everyone understood why.
Loki, being his mischievous self, created a clone of himself to watch upon the meeting, while the other followed you to your bedroom.
"Darling, are you alright?" Loki knocked on your door with little to no hesitation. "Yes, Loki! I'm alright. Thank you for asking. Just getting changed!" In an instant, Loki transported himself into your room. Your white, lacy bra exposed to him, along with your tight black pencil skirt leaving little to the imagination. You gasped.
"I wouldn't mind helping you get undressed..." Loki spoke, shocking you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. "I- um- we have a meeting to attend, Loki." Although you had always sensed Loki's teasing towards you, it was always your understanding that all it was was teasing. Nothing more. But this - this was different. He was standing in front of you now, seeing more than most men ever had. Recognizing just how much you were exposed to the god, you attempted to fold your arms across your chest, which he immediately pulled back down to the side.
"Don't hide yourself from me, darling." Loki's voice was soft, yet stern. You gazed up at him, your innocent doe eyes doing more to him than you could ever imagine. Loki felt himself hardening more, if at all possible. "Let's make a deal, Y/N L/N. If I can get your precious mortal form to cum in 5 minutes or less, then you become mine."
You stood still for a moment, like a deer in headlights, completely shocked from his words. If you were honest, you had no idea that Loki even knew your last name. "I- I-" you started, unable to pursue words any longer. "Do we have a deal?" Loki spoke, more confidently than ever. "What do you mean I become yours?" You almost snapped at him, suddenly becoming somewhat agitated by the pressure of Loki's presence. "Your delicious physical form will be mine, your mind, your heart, all of it."
"So a slave?" "No, not a slave. I worship you too much. I just want you." You looked perplexed for a moment. "But why?" "Darling, shh. Your questions are terribly incessant. So, do we have a deal?"
"I would like to adjust the terms slightly. If - and I mean if - you can make me cum in 5 minutes, you can take me out on a date. Being a piece of property just really does not appeal to me in the slightest." In all honesty, you did not anticipate Loki taking your bid for a mere date. "Darling, I do not view you as property, not at all. However, I will accept your offer for this 'date.'"
And with that, Loki placed his lips firmly on yours. Slightly in shock, you pulled away for a mere moment. "Ah ah ah, we need a timer." You pulled out your phone, setting a timer for 5 minutes. He planted a kiss on you once more, wasting absolutely no time stripping you of your skirt, bra, and panties. 4m 53s.
He pushed you onto the bed, magically ridding himself of his own clothes as well. With the snap of his fingers, his clothes were removed, the green dust dissolved and they quickly dissipated, revealing his brilliant body underneath. 4m 47s. 
His cock stood at attention, its length prominent. Certainly larger than you had taken previously. You had begun to doubt the possibility of Loki even being able to fit inside of you. Before you could question it further, you felt Loki’s heated breath on your labia, his fingers parting it slightly so he could coax forward your clitoris towards his tongue. 
He brought his mouth to sit around your clit, suckling lightly as he got you warmed up. Similarly, he brought his fingers to massage your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples. Suddenly, a magical green aura flashed, and a second Loki was upon you, taking your lips in his, twisting his tongue amongst yours, and almost most importantly, bringing your wrists up to hold in restraint above your head. 4m 32s. 
Your heat became considerably wetter, especially now that there were two Lokis playing with you. You moaned, which was mostly absorbed by Loki’s mouth, which was still toying with yours. You felt your nipples get pinched, at this point you weren’t sure by which Loki. You just knew pleasure, and that you were writhing with it, overwhelmingly so. 
You felt a teasing finger prod your entrance, almost beckoning you forward to beg for Loki’s member. However, you were distracted enough by the gentle kisses that were being placed on your lips, that you didn’t want to pull away from aside from the ever so slight breath that was needed for your pleasure to continue. Loki’s tongue continued to swirl around your clit teasingly, as your canal spasmed around his finger. 4m 15s.
You felt Loki’s lips release from yours, while you still felt the pressure from the other Loki lower. You let out a brief moan, making eye contact with the Loki above. “Good girl. Let me hear your beautiful sounds, darling.” 3m 57s. 
“You’re quite wet down here, my love. How would you like to feel your God inside of you?” The other Loki spoke from below, while simultaneously continuing to play with your clit and inside of you. You nodded feverishly, desperate to feel more than just Loki’s fingers in you. “Say it, my love.” “Please, Loki. Please.” 
“With pleasure, darling.” 3m 28s. The other Loki who was kissing you disappeared into green dust, as the first stood up. “I prefer this part to be more intimate, just the two of us.” 
Suddenly, Loki’s tip prodded against your opening, he took his time swirling around it before gently pressing inwards. You let out a moan as his tip entered you, pressing against your walls. His girth was certainly more than anyone you had been with previously. He is a god, after all. “Fuck,” you cursed. 
Loki tsked. “Be a good girl for me” he slid inside of you with a sudden movement, fully penetrating you. 2m 45s. 
“Oh my god” you moaned. “That’s right, your god.” 2m 22s. 
Loki brought your legs to his shoulders, thrusting steadily inside of you as he kissed your lips. You had never felt this much pleasure in your life. You groaned out as Loki released your lips from his. “Feels good, doesn’t it baby?”
“So, so good” you moaned, his pulsating inside of you more and more consistent, more intense with every stroke. “You’re so good for me, love.” 
Your legs shaking with pleasure as Loki continued his persistent pounding of your canal. 1m 57s.
“I’m-” you stuttered, Loki hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath as warmth built inside of your stomach. “You’re what, darling?” Loki questioned teasingly, knowing you barely had it in you to answer. 1m 34s. 
“I’m gonna- oh my god.” 
“You’re gonna what, love?”
“Cu-cum.” 
“Cum with me, darling. Now.” 1m 2s. 
You felt Loki’s hot fluids coat your insides, as your pleasure brought you to the most incredible orgasm of your life. Loki, staying inside of you, brought his mouth to yours to continue his delicate, yet intense, displays of affection. “Looks like I got about a minute to spare, my lady. So when’s that date?” 
Loki slid out of you, landing next to you on the bed where he could snuggle in close to you.
“Well, let’s count out today, I won’t be able to walk until at least tomorrow.” Loki placed kisses on your cheek and jawline as he held you close. 
“We’ll stay here until then, my love.”
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ceesimz · 7 months ago
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We're All We Need Today
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Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff!
It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.
Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.
"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.
"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"
"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.
She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'
"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."
Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?
This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.
This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.
"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"
"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.
"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.
"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.
"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.
"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."
You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.
Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?
What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.
No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.
Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.
There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.
For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.
And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.
Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.
Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.
And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.
There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.
"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"
As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.
"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"
At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.
"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.
"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.
"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."
"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.
"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."
You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.
Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.
You were only human after all.
"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."
Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.
You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.
"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.
"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.
"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."
With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.
You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.
Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.
Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.
"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"
"Yep, just get it done with. Please."
You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.
"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"
Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?
"Yeah, it's fine."
The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.
The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.
"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.
"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.
"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."
You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.
"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"
"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.
"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."
And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.
You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.
"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."
"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.
"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."
Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.
"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.
"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.
"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.
"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"
That one took your breath a little.
"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.
"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"
"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."
Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.
It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.
"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.
"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."
Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.
"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.
Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.
"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."
"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.
"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.
It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.
Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.
"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."
That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.
No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.
"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."
Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.
There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.
"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.
"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.
"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.
"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."
"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."
"I will talk to her. Don't worry."
You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.
The only thing you could do now, was wait.
That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.
Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.
So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.
"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.
Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...
"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.
Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.
Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.
"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.
"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.
She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.
A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.
"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."
Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.
"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."
Hm, not too bad of a start.
"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.
"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."
With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.
"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."
Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.
"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.
"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."
"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.
"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."
She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.
"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."
Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.
"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."
A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.
"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.
"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"
Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.
"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.
Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.
"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.
"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.
"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.
The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.
But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.
"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.
"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.
In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.
You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.
"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.
"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."
Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.
"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."
You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.
"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.
"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"
"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.
"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.
She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.
"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"
It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.
But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.
"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."
Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.
"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."
Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.
"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"
It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.
"We'll be okay, Ale."
Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.
Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.
She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.
That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.
"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.
"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.
"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."
"What's that?" You hummed.
"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.
That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.
"Thank god for who?"
"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."
"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."
With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.
"She really got through to you, then?"
"Oh, yeah, she beat my ass."
819 notes · View notes
devilstruly · 6 months ago
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KEN SATO
in pictures
pairing - kenji sato x gn. reader
includes - random stuff, friends (?), lovers (?), who the fuck knows this is ken
a/n - up until 6 hours ago i had no idea who this dude was but now i can safely say i'm fucking in love. also i've never made a post like this before but i had to do something with him before going insane
without further ado...
~☆°☆~
no.1 - ignore his dad obviously
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'huh.'
'and then- what?'
'you're cute.'
'wh- i- huh???'
no.2 - date night out
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'mina showed me one of your games last night. you really are great.'
'c-come again?'
no.3 - admitting defeat
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'well you look like shit.'
'what are you doing here?'
'someone needs to take care of you since you clearly won't.'
'...thanks.'
no.4 - jealousy, jealousy
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'it seems that you are experiencing discomfort due to y/n talking to one of your teammates. why is that, ken?'
'i'm fine, mina.'
no.5 - this one is self-explanatory honestly
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no.6 - protective much?
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'can i help you?'
'holy shit- you're ken sato! the ken sato! oh my god-'
'so you know who i am. good, i can be quick then.'
'huh-'
'see that beautiful person over there? look at them one more time and you'll get to feel what baseballs feel after i hit 'em. we clear?'
'i-uh- y-yes, sir-'
no.7 - the fuck me eyes
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'stop staring at me like that. we're in public.'
'like what?'
'like this.'
no.8 - asshole
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'aren't you supposed to be at a press conference right now?'
'oh give me a break, i just won the team one of the most important games of the season. drink?'
'you're unbelievable.'
'why thank you ~'
no.9 - head over heels
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'how was the game? i saw your team won.'
'yeah, yeah, we did. it was great. yoshino has been doing better, he scored a home run today.'
'awww ~ looks like your apprentice has been taking notes.'
'pft, he's not my apprentice, just a good player.'
'give yourself some credit, ken. you brought the team together and it's showing. i'm proud of you.'
'...'
'ken?'
'uh- ehem - when's your flight?'
'tomorrow morning. i'll be there by 10.'
'i'll wait for you at the airport.'
'you really don't have to-'
'shut up and go get some sleep. i'll see you tomorrow beautiful.'
no.10 - not a morning person
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'you look adorable when you're sleep-deprived.'
'shut the fuck up.'
~☆°☆~
443 notes · View notes
lizzyk137 · 7 months ago
Text
I'm Never Letting You Go- Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer X Reader)
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Summary: Spencer has you worried that he won't want your baby and you don't know how to tell him. Warnings: Angst, brief mention of gun shots, yelling over a dangerous situation, fluff Based off of Season 4 Episode 5
Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!
"Woo, he's kicking. a lot today." JJ exclaims chuckling, hand on her every growing belly.
Spencer looks up from his case file before rambling, "In the third trimester, there is about thirty fetal movements per hour. Babies kick to explore movement and strengthen muscle."
JJ just stares at him dumbfounded, before asking, "Have you ever actually felt a baby kick?" She grabs Spencer's hand and places on the side of her belly, his face showing his confusion. JJ nods, as they both can feel the baby kick. "You feel that?"
"Does that freak you out?" Spencer whispers, quickly looking up at JJ then back down to where his hand was still be pressed to her belly.
"No, not at all." Her face, now showing confusion at his question, before looking at him teasingly. "Why does it freak you out?"
"Very much so," Spencer says as he rips his hand away and brings his attention back to his case file, earning a chuckle out of JJ.
You watch quietly, your own hand on your small baby bump. Your boyfriend of a year just said a baby kicking freaks him out. You couldn't wrap your head around the grossed look on his face while he said it. You didn't know if Spencer wanted kids, it somehow never came up and you were still unsure of when to tell him, but after he said that you weren't sure if anytime would be the right time.
Spencer was happy when JJ announced her pregnancy, but after that he wasn't himself when JJ was around. Always watching her curiously, like he was unsure if being himself was okay to do around the growing baby. He eventually became more relaxed and even did some research on babies, always spouting out information when he could, but he still wasn't fully acting like his adorably dorky self.
The pregnancy was a surprise for you and early on in your relationship with Spencer. You haven't officially told anyone in the BAU about your relationship, Spencer worried about getting in trouble and wanting to look professional. You understood what he meant, and it was easier to hide your relationship out in the field so you wouldn't be used against each other if an unsub caught you. It may have been easy to hide from others, but not the team. They easily found out but said nothing about it. It was killing them not to tease Spencer about it though, but they respected your privacy when you asked them not tell Spencer.
You tried to keep this a secret though but that proved challenging, especially when the morning sickness started. JJ had caught you red handed in the bathroom one morning, while Emily and Penelope figured it out after you declined wine after a tough case, which you never did. Soon Morgan, Rossi and Hotch found out, all promising to keep this a secret too from Spencer. They were all worried that you've yet to tell him and you were already showing, but with the case load being heavy, you've yet to spend any real alone time with Spencer especially since your belly started to grow, which was surprisingly fast.
But now you were really unsure about telling Spencer and Emily could see the frustration on your face when you walked out of the conference room.
-----
Spencer watched as JJ fanned herself with a case file as she rubbed her swollen belly with a small smile on his face, before turning around to realize Emily caught him, a smirk on her face as he tried to play it off like he was just looking around.
"You considering it?" She asks, Spencer looking up at her.
He looked at her, eyebrows furrowing. "Considering what?"
"Having baby geniuses one day." She looks confidently at him before it was replaced with a teasing glint in her eyes.
His face turns to one of consideration before the phone rings and he quickly answers it, glad to have a distraction from the question asked of him.
He didn't understand her question nor the sad look on her face after he dodged her question. She quickly got up while he was still on the phone, his eyes following her as she quickly made her way to you before whispering in your ear. You got up quickly, one hand covering your mouth and another your stomach as you ran to the bathroom, Emily hot on your heels.
Where you alright? Where you sick? Did Emily say something to you to make you so upset? What did Emily say anyways and why did she run right to you after asking him such a personal question.
Spencer didn't want to admit to himself that he did want a family, especially with you. It was still so early on in your relationship and your careers that he didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family. So, he did everything he could to deny his interest.
He just didn't want to lose you.
----
You were avoiding Spencer as the case went on. You knew it wasn't right or healthy but after seeing him showing disgust and zero interest babies, you just didn't know how to approach him. You were being dumb, and Rossi did let you know that.
"My sweet girl, you are starting to show, just tell the kid. You'll figure out what to do, no matter what he says." Rossi gave your hand a small squeeze. He was always soft with you, thinking of you like a daughter, though sometimes you could go without the hard parenting.
Emily reminded you that you all had them no matter if Spencer wanted to be in the picture or not.
You nodded, trying hard not to think about Spencer not being with you anymore. You loved him too much and you didn't want to lose him.
----
You were running top speeds towards the train, somehow beating Morgan to the train's ladder as you climbed up it, making your way to the top before taking off again as you made your way from one car to the next. Morgan was trying to catch up with you, yelling at you to be careful as he let the team know via his head set about what you were doing.
Spencer was worried, he knew you were upset with him, though he couldn't figure out why, but he didn't want you getting hurt, it would be something else you'd have to worry about with whatever he may have done.
"Hotch get her quick, she's too close for my liking!" Morgan yelled out.
"Oh my god, Morgan catch her!" Rossi screamed a second later, Spencer's heart stopped beating for a second waiting for news on if you were alright. Gun shots rang out and Spencer rubbed his hands over his face.
"All clear, we're safe." Morgan's voice rang out a few moments later.
Within the next half hour, he saw you make your way through the double doors, a frustrated look on your face while Morgan, Hotch and Rossi followed behind you, clearly upset and lecturing you.
Spencer ran over to make sure you were okay, but Morgan cut him off, stopping you in your tracks. "You're pregnant and you need to start looking out for the baby not just you." His voice was hard and loud, before continuing, his voice shaky. "If I wasn't there, you and your baby could have been hurt, or worse killed."
Spencer's feet had already stopped and he could feel his jaw slack and opened at Morgan's words. Your eyes grew wide as you saw him standing behind Morgan stunned.
"Oh Spencer..." You whispered before he took off running. You ran behind him, ripping your vest off as it constricted your belly.
You headed out into the night, the warm air slapping you as you came out of the cool building. "Spencer! Wait!" You yelled out, your legs still shaky from almost falling off the ladder of the caboose train before Morgan caught you.
Spencer suddenly stopped, almost causing you to run into him before he suddenly turned around and looking at you through tear filled eyes. His body shook and he went to point at you before bringing his hand down to his side. "Your pregnant?" His voice was barely a whisper but still strong.
All you could do was nod.
"How long have you known?"
You gulped, your eyes barely reaching his. "I'm a little over four months along."
"You've known for that long and you haven't told me?" He was furious now, tears streaming down his face as he stared at you.
You shook your head, tears starting to fall. "I didn't know how to tell you. You haven't shown any interest in wanting kids." The next part, you whispered, not wanting to think about the look he gave to JJ's moving belly. "You said it freaked you out."
He looked at you confused before his face softened as he looked at your broken face, tears falling down your face as you stared at the ground. He took a step forward before wrapping you in his arms. "Baby, no. I-I just said that and acted weird because I didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family." You sobbed into his chest at that part, your short arms circling him. "I want nothing more than to be with you, start a life with you and have little geniuses running around." He chuckled, using what Emily had used to talk about his babies. Now he realized what she was hinting at.
You were pregnant. He was upset with you for hiding it, but he couldn't blame you for not knowing how to tell him, especially with how he acted. He stroked the back of your head, planting little kisses in your hair. "Are you sure you want to be a dad right now?"
He chuckled at how cute your mumbling in his chest was. He pulled away, putting both hands on the side of your face, forcing you to look at him, his smile wide. "Y/N, I couldn't think of a better time."
A smile crept onto your face, before he brought his lips to yours. "Thank you. I'm sorry I kept it from you." He just shook your head.
"There is nothing to apologize for, except for the amount of stress you put me under tonight going after that unsub." You laughed as you pulled him back into a hug. "Promise me that you'll be safer?"
"I promise." You mumbled, sleepiness starting to get to you.
After a few moments of silence, he pulled away from you, his eyes soft with curiosity. "Um- can I feel?" He looked and nodded down towards your belly.
You giggled at his nervousness as you finished taking off your vest, your hand naturally resting on the small bump that was showing through your tight tank top.
His hands shakily came to your sides as he knelt down before giving your belly a kiss then introduced himself as your baby's daddy, making you laugh aloud. A small movement in your belly stopped you, Spencer and you slowly looking at each other with wide eyes before you jumped up and down shrieking with joy, the team coming out of the station, worried something happened.
They watched as Spencer picked you up, twirling you around both of you laughing and shrieking with excitement at the growing life inside of you. Their smiles growing as they made their way over to the two of you to celebrate.
Spencer twirled you again as you kissed him before pulling back to look into each other's eyes.
I'm never letting you go, you both thought.
582 notes · View notes
mionemymind · 8 months ago
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Chapter 3: Choosing for You
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My Rival Series
Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
Chapter Summary: The competition is here. Who will be the winner?
A/n: This was a long chapter, honestly might rewrite it, but here it is with all its mistakes and glories. And I'm sorry if you've asked to be tagged and wasn't included in this post, I'm posting this from work because I promised to give y'all something. (Gif credits to @elizabetholsens)
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Mentions of Puking, Memory Loss, Panic Attack
Word Count: 7.2k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Fall Semester - Freshman Year
“Why does winning matter so much to you?” Winning hardly had rewards in life. Sure, there was sometimes money involved on the line but other than financial gain, winning was mainly there to feed the ego. For Natasha, she never viewed Y/n as someone that cared about being number one in life. Based on the few phone calls she overheard, the university felt like a getaway from troubles at home. So why did Y/n even want to win? 
The brown eyed girl sat in confusion. Her pencil was still as she wracked her brain for an answer. By all means, winning is fun. Back in high school, Y/n would naturally win things that being number one felt like home at that point. But having moved on from that mentality, winning wasn’t quite the same in Evergreen University. Well, it’s not like she had a chance to feel it when Wanda Maximoff was around. 
“If I’m being honest…I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a win in my life before.” The two locked eyes as Y/n softly confessed what was long on her mind. She placed her pencil down and gave Natasha her undivided attention. “Studying has never been my thing before up until now. Don’t get me wrong, I quite hate it, but it feels different now. Like if I just beat her once, then that high will be like nothing ever before.” 
“Does she really challenge you that much?” The question sunk into Y/n’s brain and into her deeper subconscious. She sat quietly, overthinking her answer. 
“I think…she’s the only one that ever challenged me at all.” 
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Competition Day - Spring Semester - Junior Year 
‘Why does winning feel so wrong?’ Y/n looked in the mirror, splashing small bits of water on her face to help wake herself up. Rolling her neck, she could feel how stiff her bones were from last night. Unfortunately, the bus was no help at all, only providing mild comfort on their four hour journey. 
Stepping out the bathroom, Y/n wore the tightly pressed and cleaned uniform as Wanda started her speech for the group. “I want to thank you all for joining us today at this competition. For some of you, this is your first time ever attending the conference while for others, you are returning. Regardless, you’ve all earned your spots on this team, so congratulate yourself for that.” 
A couple of applauses were heard as Wanda smiled at the team. She briefly glanced to Y/n who was sitting all the way at the back of the bus. “I know that this bus is carrying some of the brightest minds that Evergreen University has to offer. Without a doubt in my mind, I know we can win this competition.”
Y/n looked away to the view of the hotel where the conference took place. The turmoil in her gut was hard to ignore as she focused on other things besides Wanda’s eyes. ‘Winning is a must. If I want to come back to her here, then I need to win.’ 
“However, winning is not always the priority. Overall, I’ve been more than happy to see everyone grow into their strengths and even improve your weaknesses. Your efforts have been highly noted by both of your captains.” Y/n looked back at Wanda, her stare as confident as ever. 
“We want to thank you all for all the nights, practices, and energy you’ve committed to be in this competition.” Wanda looked over as the bus entered the garage of the hotel. “Okay, everyone come in for a quick send off.” 
Everyone gathered into a huddle, placing their hands in the middle. “On three - one - two - three - Evergreen! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Their hands lifted into the air as Wanda looked at Y/n with a determined smile. 
‘I’m going to win.’ The brunette thought as she stared into those brown eyes, but little did she know the costs of this win.
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The hotel was massive. It was honestly a surprise at how many schools can fit into one place. Some had to fly in, having been more than five hours away. The group followed Wanda to the selected tables meant for Evergreen University. 
“Break into your groups, Y/n and I will be investigating the brackets to see who we will be versing first. We have about an hour before round one is officially called. If you need to change or use the bathroom, this is definitely the time to do so. If you have any questions or concerns, please let Y/n and/or I know immediately.” 
Doing as told, the members immediately broke into their four person group and discussed strategies for round one. When no one came up to ask any questions, the pair walked off out of the conference room, and into the large hall that had many posters hung up with all the different brackets. 
There was a small but comfortable silence as Wanda walked slightly ahead from Y/n, focusing on finding out who they were versing first. While Y/n was also thinking of the competition, she wondered if they were ever going to talk about last night. 
Walking up to the first bracket they could find, Wanda took a picture of it and sent it to the math club group chat for everyone to see. “Princewell University, Maroon State College, and Gale College, not a bad start. Looks like we’re going to easily make it into the second round.” 
Since Y/n was unable to sleep last night, she made use of her time by looking over the bracket. Going over the many possibilities, there was still a high chance of her group making it to the top five. Round one was thankfully full of easy opponents having judged their previous matches with other schools. 
“I agree. Looks like our main trouble is with Harford University. But they’re all the way at the otherside. I’m hoping Legacy College takes care of them so we don’t have to,” Wanda comments. She turned to face Y/n, taking a good look at her clean uniform and brushed hair. 
“I need you to be on your A-game today.” Unsure of where Wanda’s seriousness was coming from, Y/n nodded in understanding. “If you can give me that, I’ll overlook this morning.” 
Puzzled by her statement, Y/n asked, “What are you talking about?” Wanda crossed her arms, trying her best to be level headed at the moment. 
“You wreaked alcohol. Last night was a supposed to be a get together, not an opportunity to get drunk.” The judgment coming from Wanda’s tone felt like a slap in the face as Y/n took one step back. 
“Are you kidding me? I took one drink. I wasn’t the one that was drunk last night. Are you seriously remembering the same night as me?” The small moment with Wanda was all that Y/n replayed in that moment. 
‘Apologize and I’ll forgive you for everything - apologize and I’ll let go of this whole feud.’ Whether Y/n was going to loudly admit it or not, the small ounce that she saw of Wanda’s true personality changed her view of the brunette. Even if the conversation was small, even if Wanda didn’t hear her response, even if it was a drunk confession, Y/n was going to cling to it. 
Wanda was always the girl that was number one but in that small moment, Wanda was just a girl who wanted to win for the sake of not disappointing her father. Because God, how could someone ever be disappointed in Wanda Maximoff? And how could they not see just how amazing she was? 
But as Wanda rolled her eyes, and hardened her stare, Y/n knew none of that moment mattered to Wanda, not when her green eyes still showed some form of hatred. “I remember last night clearly. Everyone in the group arrived and managed to say check in with me. You were the only one in the group that I didn’t even get to see. Once it was late, I went back to my dorm and slept. But it’s obvious why you avoided me - you were too busy drinking rather than focusing on the competition.”
“That’s not-”
“I don’t want to hear your explanation. Your team deserves a good leader and if you can’t provide that, I’ll make sure that math club will be looking for a replacement captain next semester.” The pounding in Wanda’s head was hard to ignore as she walked away from Y/n, not even bothering to hear her side. 
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‘Focus. Everything will be alright if you just focus.’ The ringing in Y/n’s ears was louder than the judge in front of her. The question left his lips almost slipped past the girl but thankfully her teammate, Luke, was paying attention, easily answering the question. 
“Another point for Evergreen University, which solidifies their victory for this match!” Cheers erupted from the crowd as each group got up, giving the other members handshakes for the great match. 
‘I can’t fucking focus.’ Y/n wore a fake smile as she congratulated the other captain on the team, quickly walking off the stage. Ever since her interaction with Wanda, her nervousness and anxiety came back in full throttle. Her mind went from completely tired to panic. And while her drive to win increased, it came with overthinking as well. 
“That was a great match everyone! I’m so proud of you all for being so great for these four rounds that I haven’t had to worry one bit.” Well Y/n did worry, just not for her team’s sake. “I’m going to go ahead and let the staff know about our victory. In the meantime, go ahead and relax at our table. After the fifth round, let me know if y’all want snacks. I can go ahead and purchase them for everyone.” 
“Thank you Y/n. We appreciate it!” Luke stated, he was a returning member of the competition, one that Y/n knew well. Letting the group walk away, Y/n finally brought her guard down as she walked out of the conference room and to the direction of the staff booth. 
‘I can’t believe I fucking froze.’ Y/n knew the question was for her, yet she had to rely on her team member for something she could’ve easily answered. Wiping her frustrations off her face, Y/n tried to compose herself before she approached the staff. 
“School, team, and placement?” The lady wore rectangle shaped glasses. She offered Y/n a kind smile, ready to write the results. 
“Evergreen University, team two, and we won our match.” Y/n peeped her name tag, Laura, as she wrote down the results. 
“Looks like you’ll be versing Apollo College next in conference room seven.” Laura handed Y/n a slip of paper with the information before calling next. 
Shoving the paper in her pocket, Y/n walked past several conference rooms, their doors open for anyone to watch their matches. None of them interested her, but her voice certainly did. Stopping at the entrance of the doors, Y/n watched Wanda flawlessly answer the question. 
The bright light focusing on her group amplified her natural beauty. Y/n could pick up on every single detail, something she already knew like the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched as she noticed Wanda's smile, the same type of smile she had when she got hundreds on tests. 
The anger inside Y/n manifested once more. She could legitimately feel herself start to boil the more she stared at Wanda. It was dangerously coming close to the anger she felt when she lashed out at Natasha that one night. 
Clenching her fists, Y/n walked away from the match, unable to stand Wanda any further with thoughts of winning in her mind. 
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‘You’re making mistakes.’ Wanda stood in the crowd with her arms crossed. The displeased look on her face was hard to miss as she witnessed Y/n make her third mistake of the match, causing another precious point to be missed. Her brain rushed through many thoughts of disappointment towards the girl she used to hold to a high regard. 
‘This isn’t like her.’ But the frown on Wanda’s face deepened, did she really know Y/n at all? Yes, she can admit that Y/n was smart. Smarter than a lot of people at their university. But other than that obvious characteristic, Y/n was admittedly someone she only knew at surface level. They’ve hardly spoken outside classes or math club. Essentially, she was just a stranger that was smart. 
Shaking away the sadness that was snaking through her, Wanda watched as Y/n sat back in her seat. 
The shame that Y/n carried on her shoulders felt massive along with the anxiety that continued to paralyze her more and more. The brown eyed girl was certain of her answer, so when the judge loudly announced that she gotten it wrong, embarrassment flooded her senses knowing that Wanda was in the crowd, silently judging her every move. 
It all came down to the final question of the match. Whoever answers correctly will have to verse Wanda’s team. Luke, once again, got up, ready to answer the question. All eyes were on him besides Wanda and Y/n. 
As the two finally locked eyes, Y/n couldn’t help but drown further in Wanda’s rage. ‘Forget everything I ever said - I do fucking hate you, Wanda Maximoff. And I hope you never forget that.’
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“We need to talk.” Celebrations for Evergreen University were deaf to Wanda’s ears as she held Y/n’s wrist. Quickly, she led them out the crowd and through the near empty hallway outside the conference room. Dropping her wrist, Wanda stood there fuming with anger. 
“What was that?” Y/n didn’t want to speak, unsure of what would be the ‘correct’ choice of words for the brunette. And by the looks of it, nothing was going to satisfy her. Choosing to be silent anger Wanda ever further. 
“This isn’t the time to be childish - you’re making mistakes and if it wasn’t for your team, you wouldn’t have had this spot in the finals.” Y/n clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue. Sure she made mistakes, but it hurt Y/n to realize that Wanda didn’t even care for the ways she did contribute to the team. 
Mistakes were permanent for the girl that was always perfect. That was something Y/n realized now more than ever. 
“Can you not let go of three mistakes, Captain?” Y/n continued to stare off at the other side of the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with Wanda. Her words sneered off her mouth, feeling disgusted at the way Wanda ridiculed her every move. 
“Un-fucking-believable. Dean Holloway was right.” At the mention of the Dean, Y/n’s blood ran cold. Her eyes locked with Wanda’s, as the brunette stood there. “You take everything as some type of joke. And to think I stood up for you.” 
Y/n’s mind scrambled on what possibly happened between Dean Holloway and Wanda. ‘Does she know about my scholarship?’
But why on Earth would Wanda assume such things if she knew about her scholarship? Pressing for more information, Y/n asked, “What did he say?”
Wanda rolled her eyes. ‘Of course that’s what she would focus on rather than her own mistakes.’ Looking at the time, there were twenty minutes left before the final. The brunette should have been using this time to help practice with her team, yet here she was arguing with Y/n. 
“Last week,” Wanda sighed. This all felt pointless to admit but she felt that Y/n needed to know. Maybe this could be what straightened up her act. “Dean Holloway asked me to reconsider your place in this competition.” 
“What?” Y/n took a step back at the confession, feeling more hopeless at how rigged everything was. ‘How could he do this to me?” 
“I told him that I could trust you - that you were the only person besides me adequate enough to lead the math club. Somehow, he managed to let me know that you were slipping in classes. No longer being at the top.” Wanda looked at Y/n. She focused on all the minor details of the face that haunted her mind. But upon seeing how hurt those brown eyes looked, Wanda couldn’t help but falter slightly. 
“I wanted to believe that it was all wrong, but now…” Y/n silently pleaded as her mind went into overdrive. Couldn’t Wanda see how innocent she was? How she had been studying day and night for weeks just to make it another year at Evergreen? Couldn’t she see that this was all for her? 
“I think we should go back to our groups. We need to prepare for the final. But Y/l/n…after this competition, we might have to reconsider your place as captain for math club.” 
How cruel the world must be for the universe to deal Y/n such a bad draw? And how awful it must feel to know that Wanda was the one that delivered the final blow? 
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‘I have to win for me.’ Water dripped down Y/n’s face as she stared at herself in the mirror. There was five minutes left before she was expected to take the stage. Currently, Y/n was in the bathroom, hoping to subside the panic attack that was itching to come out. 
‘Even if the school doesn’t want me, even if Wanda doesn’t want me, I want this more than anyone.’ Gripping the counter for stability, Y/n slowed her breathing down, hoping it would be enough. She wasn’t going to let the world decide her fate even if it had cheated her of a fair opportunity. 
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“Welcome everyone for the final match for the annual math club state competition. I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s top two teams both come from Evergreen University!” Applause rumbled throughout the large conference room as the rest of the school's watch in anticipation. 
Wanda sat in her seat, overthinking her conversation with Y/n earlier. ‘Did I go overboard?’ Sneaking a glance at Y/n, it was hard to get a read of what the brown eyed girl was thinking. ‘Whatever, she needed to know.’
Pushing her thoughts to the back, the brunette focused back on the competition. It was finally her turn to go up as well as Y/n’s. 
“Please find the inverse of the following equation.” Like a switch, everything in Wanda’s mind grew silent as she focused on the question on the screen. In seconds flat, she hit the buzzer to submit her answer. 
“And the correct answer choice was…C, point goes to team # 1.” This was Wanda’s element - this was her reason for being. Glancing at Y/n, Wanda knew her purpose. She was number one and god forbid anyone that stood in her way. 
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The competition went by like a blur. In the first quarter of questions, Wanda’s team led with a gap of seven points. However, after a couple small mistakes by her team members, Y/n’s team was able to catch up and shorten the gap. 
Right now, there are only five questions left. The score remained tied as Y/n tried her best to remain perfect. If things were to continue the way they were, the last question would determine the winner. 
Before she knew it, it was finally her turn. Standing up to take the podium, Y/n glanced at Wanda accidentally locking eyes. ‘I will be the one to defeat you, Maximoff. I will make sure of it.’
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Fall Semester - Freshman Year 
“I’ve never seen you study so much before. It’s kinda freaky.” The two roommates sat around the small circular table in the middle of the room, enjoying a couple of drinks and snacks. Natasha begged for Y/n to stop for at least a small break, having missed talking to her roommate. 
“Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do.” Y/n stretched her legs at her sat position. Rolling her neck around, a couple of pops and clicks could be heard. 
“Why do it? Your grades are fine the way they are.” Y/n looked back at the pile of books on her desk. She never really recalled studying this much before during her high school days. Heck, she’s been able to get by this whole time just by how naturally smart she was. So when she looked back at Natasha, there was this ‘ya know’ look in Y/n’s eyes. “Does it have to do with Wanda?”
Y/n smiled at the mention of the brunette. It was odd at how many classes they were in together even though their majors were entirely different. There was something about Wanda that caught Y/n’s eye. She didn’t quite know what it was and didn’t quite want to delve too much into it. 
“And if it does?” Y/n sipped on her drink, a smirk on her face as she avoided Natasha’s question. The red head shook her head, grabbing a chip.
“Well - you speak of her like she’s a God.” Eating a couple more, Natasha watched as the glimmer in Y/n’s eye brightened every time the brunette was brought up. Like the simple mention of Wanda could make Y/n smile instantly. 
“Wrong, Wanda’s not a God. Gods make mistakes,” getting closer to Natasha’s face, the red head could smell the faint of alcohol on Y/n’s lips, “and Wanda Maximoff does not make mistakes.” 
Y/n leaned back, still drinking the rest of her drink as Natasha looked at her roommate with a puzzled look. “Whatever you say. Just try not to make this a habit now.”
Y/n shook her head, feeling optimistic that she’d beat Wanda soon enough. Probably in the same semester. “I won’t. Promise.” 
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“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in our state’s history the competition’s fate lied in the last question.” The crowd applauded for the accomplishment as the judges beamed in smiles towards Evergreen University. “.As your judges, we believe this calls for a special problem. We’ve rewritten the last question to make it a more challenging problem.”
“With one point in the lead, if Wanda answers the question correctly, her team will solidify the win. If Y/n answers the question correctly, this competition will proceed to overtime.” 
Y/n and Wanda stood at their podiums, anticipation both killing them. “Here is your question.” 
As the screen showed off the problem, Y/n could feel herself standing tall as she looked over the problem. It was a multistep calculus problem that involved finding the inverse of a 3x3 matrix. Essentially, a problem that would require two pages of work just to find a solution. And by the looks of it, Wanda was already finished with the first quarter of the work. 
Calming her breathing down, Y/n cleared the noise from her head.  She looked back at the problem, digesting all of what it told. ‘This is just another problem, Y/n.’ Thinking lightly back to the days where math was just a fun activity to do, Y/n finally smiled, remembering the feeling where math naturally came to her. 
Letting the feeling sink in, Y/n started to solve it. The crowd waited with whispers and talks of who was going to win. Many people in the crowd believed Wanda would secure another victory as she did in the past. Very few people cheered for Y/n, simply wanting to believe in the underdog. 
A few minutes later, Y/n approached the final bits of her answer, immediately eyeing the answer choice on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat realizing that she could do this - that she could win. 
Before she could reach out for the answer, Wanda had buzzed in first with her choice. Suddenly, everything inside Y/n shut down as she saw Wanda smile once again. It was that infamous smile that she grew so used to. 
‘This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.’ Feeling herself lock up again, Y/n didn’t dare to look at the screen, hoping to save some of her dignity that was barely left. 
Believing the world to be crashing in front of her, she failed to realize that Wanda had made a mistake. The screen glowed in bright red as her answer choice was incorrect. “Y/n, looks like the question is left to you. You haven’t locked in your answer, so what will it be?” 
Y/n looked up, unable to digest that Wanda actually messed up. The Wanda Maximoff made a mistake. Fighting back the smile on her face, Y/n reached out for the correct answer choice, her finger tips grazing answer choice B. 
The smug look on her face was hard to miss. Everyone on her team knew they would come home with the victory. Wanda’s team sighed in defeat knowing that Y/n would answer correctly. 
So why did everything change when Y/n glanced at Wanda? Why did her heart hurt at the sight of Wanda spilling angry and frustrated tears? Why did her breathing stop? And why did all thoughts consume her? 
Wanda never cried or at least in front of Y/n or anybody. She was always the strong and confident girl that knew every answer for every question. She walked like she was untouchable. So how did she mess up? 
‘Please stop crying,’ she thought. Her heart constricted knowing she was the reason Wanda was crying. Yet every ounce of her brain yelled for her to press the damn answer, to finally prove to Wanda that she could be defeated, to finally get the win that she had been craving for since freshman year. 
So why couldn’t she just fucking press it? Looking back at the crowd and at the answer written down on her paper, her free hand crumpled the sheet as her heart overtook what her mind pleaded. 
Feeling like time stopped, Y/n held her breath when those green eyes locked with her. ‘I want to win…I want to stay…but at the cost of this…this isn’t a win.’ 
Beyond logic and reason, Y/n pressed her answer. Confetti blew in the air as the judge announced, “And the winner is team # 1 with Wanda Maximoff as their team captain. Congratulations to Evergreen University!” 
Regardless of what Wanda had ever done, said, or thought, Y/n knew that today was all because the school wanted to so badly pin Wanda against her. But Y/n finally knew better. This will not be the day she wins. This will be the day she was finally okay to be second to Wanda. 
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Many cheers and laughter filled the bus as the group celebrated the Evergreen University win. Wanda had been smiling so hard since the award ceremony that her cheeks started to hurt.
As she looked over the trophy, her eyes couldn’t stop looking at the sleeping figure near the back of the bus. ‘I almost lost it,’ Wanda thought. It was unlike her to make a mistake and if she was being honest, she didn’t know what to blame. 
As much as she wanted to overlook her work, she wanted to leave that mistake in the past and enjoy the win. But as she kept looking back to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word to her since the final match, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. 
Regardless, the drive back to Evergreen was filled with joy as Y/n finally slept after a long exhausting day. 
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Finals Week - Spring Semester - Junior Year
Wanda loved winning…but lately, it had a sour taste in her mouth. Finals week came in full swing, giving zero time for Wanda to dissect this weird feeling in her chest. She had helped some of her friends and classmates with studying, making her even more busy than usual. 
By the time she was done with tests, the sour feeling still sat in her chest. With only two days left, Wanda couldn’t help but lose some sleep over this feeling. Why was winning suddenly so bad? When did it become something she felt guilty for? 
Subconsciously, her mind gravitated towards Y/n. In her dreams, the moment before Y/n answered the final question replayed constantly. It was as if her mind took a vivid recording of the whole interaction. And as she replayed the moment she locked eyes with Y/n, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like the trophy wasn’t meant for her. 
Of course she downplayed the scenario, believing that this was another mistake that Y/n had made for that day. And the words of Dean Holloway, this was something Y/n never took seriously. So why did she vividly remember how Y/n’s eyes looked the moment she had chosen her answer? Why did Y/n look so accepting of defeat? Why was there no anger or thrive behind them? 
And the more she thought, the more she realized how little she saw of Y/n during the whole week. Friday, the last day of the semester, came around. During the test, her mind suddenly diverted to her. So when Wanda looked up and found Y/n in the crowd, she couldn’t help but want to talk to her, to see what exactly happened in that moment. 
Was it something she made up in her head? Was she feeling weird for actually making a mistake in front of people? Was this blown out of proportion? 
Regardless, Wanda didn’t dare describe this feeling as part of missing Y/n. Cause if she had, maybe she would have realized sooner that winning felt wrong this time. Because maybe, just maybe, it had pushed away the person that actually understood her better than anyone else. 
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Last Night - Spring Semester - Junior Year
Y/n Y/l/n,
We regret to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked for the following 2019 fall semester. This decision was not made lightly as the board is aware of the accomplishments you’ve brought to Evergreen University. Nevertheless, the requirement to place #1 in the most recent STEM competition was something we could not ignore. 
We do hope you decide to enroll for your senior year. For further information on financial aid or loan applications, please visit the Bursar’s office. 
Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences
Cedric Holloway 
Evergreen University
The letter sat on the Y/n’s near empty desk as she continued to pack in preparation for tomorrow. It was the last night on campus for every student. While many chose to celebrate it with a party, Y/n chose to spend it alone. 
The silence of her room provided some comfort as she cleared her bookshelf. “Why must I have so many books?” 
While Y/n never imagined this would be where her college career with Evergreen ended, she certainly never regretted her choice. Then again, she hadn’t been home in forever, so that may change soon once she goes back. 
Looking back at Natasha’s fully furnished side, Y/n could feel some guilt rising to her chest as she hadn’t broken the news yet to her best friend. Not wanting to burden the red head with a sad night, Y/n remained silent, hoping tomorrow would be best to break the news. 
As for Y/n’s group, none of them were particularly angry about her mistake. Everyone tried their best to cheer their captain up, providing some comforting smiles and words. None of it truly mattered though. This was Y/n’s choice to make and she fully knew the consequences of it. 
So for the first time in a while, Y/n was actually alone and not studying. That was until she came. Wanda stood in the hallway, thinking of how she would talk to Y/n, to hopefully apologize. She carried the trophy that was mailed in from the conference, one that actually had her name engraved on it. 
But the trophy felt heavy and awkward in her hands, but it was the closest thing Wanda could think of as a conversation starter. Pushing her anxieties away, Wanda walked to Y/n’s dorm, surprised that the door was actually opened. 
The first thing she noticed was the pile of boxes that almost blocked the doorway. Looking past it, Wanda couldn’t help but notice how bare Y/n’s side looked. 
“What are you doing?” Y/n jumped from the corner of her room, hand on her chest.
 “Jesus Christ, Maximoff, can you give a girl a warning?” 
Wanda placed the trophy in the hallway, and walked around Y/n’s room, not caring for an invitation inside. Thinking back to the dorm setup, Evergreen University typically had students stay in the same dorm assigned to them from freshman year all the way to junior year. During senior year, students would be upgraded to bigger dorms. 
“I thought you couldn’t transfer dorms till senior year was closer?” Wanda turned around to face Y/n, the empty side didn’t make sense as juniors typically left their items alone throughout the summer. 
Y/n’s eyes glanced at the letter on her desk. “I’m moving to a new scenery.” She picked up the box with her knick knacks and placed it on top of the letter, hoping Wanda didn’t notice. The brown eyed girl leaned against her desk. She tilted her head noticing the shiny object in the hallway. 
“Is that the trophy?” Wanda looked back, almost forgetting what she came here to do. She walked back to the hallway and grabbed the trophy. Their fingers brushed as Wanda handed it to Y/n. “Wow! It’s…it’s really beautiful.” 
Y/n rubbed her thumb across Wanda’s name. Wanda Maximoff 2019 Champion. “Congratulations by the way. Sorry I wasn’t able to say it back on stage.” Y/n handed the trophy back to Wanda. If the girl was paying attention, she would’ve noted the odd look Wanda gave her. 
Something was different and Wanda hated it. Winning always gave her a high but something about this interaction increased the bittersweet feeling in her chest. “What dorm hall are you relocating to?” Wanda placed the trophy on Y/n’s desk. “I could help you out if you need it.” 
Already ready to help out, Wanda lifted the box of knick knacks, her fingers brushing over the letter. “Wanda-,” Y/n startled herself, not expecting to nearly yell at Wanda, “I- I -” 
No words left Y/n’s mouth as those green eyes stared back at her. Suddenly, all those times where they yelled in each other's face came to mind. How close were they to ever…? 
Y/n sighed, there was no use hiding from the truth now. “I’m actually going back home.” Wanda placed the box back down, still not understanding why Y/n’s things were packed. “I’m-” 
Y/n scratched the back of her neck, avoiding Wanda’s stare. “I’m transferring to Langford University.” An eerie silence settled in Y/n’s room. So when Y/n got the courage to look back at Wanda, she hadn’t expected the teary eyes and offended look on Wanda’s face.
“You’re transferring? Why?” Moving off the desk, Y/n sat on her bed as Wanda leaned back on to the desk. “It’s - complicated. I really don’t want to go into it.” 
Wanda’s hand balled up into a fist. The lack of details pissed her off. “You’re seriously not coming back?” Wanda hated how bitter everything tasted. The sight of her trophy pissed her off even more. 
Y/n opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. She was leaving what she called home for the past three years. Not only that, she was leaving the girl that has been there since her first day. What could she even say?
Before she could admit anything, Y/n’s phone rang, breaking the tense atmosphere. “Sorry, let me take this real quick.” Y/n walked out to the hallway to answer her phone. 
Wanda sighed with her head hung low. What was she going to do now? Being #1 was something her parents always pressured her to do. But ever since she met Y/n, #1 was something that motivated her to get out of bed and start the day extra early. Meeting Y/n meant countless hours studying just to make sure she knew the lessons by heart. Meeting Y/n meant her life revolved around beating the girl in every single thing. And as harsh as it sounded, it was the only way Wanda knew to get closer. 
She turned around and glanced at the open box. There was a various amount of figurines, crystals, and journals thrown in. Wanda picked up a green crystal, one that almost matched her eyes. She remembered the day back in freshman year where Y/n had admitted she recently got into collecting crystals. Wanda thought at first it was a waste of money until she stopped by a local shop. 
The red head could see why it was intriguing to buy them especially when you believe the auras and specialities that a certain rock can bring to your life. So in secret, Wanda bought a sphere of rose quartz and placed it in her room. She didn’t notice anything different in her life but then again, all her thoughts already surrounded Y/n. 
Wanda looked back at the hallway and could hear Y/n still talking on the phone. It felt wrong to steal, especially since that was a no no in the crystal community. But the idea of Y/n leaving her without a single thing to keep for herself felt cruel. So when she slipped on the necklace, as if it already belonged to her, she could feel her heart skip a beat at the thought of Y/n giving it to her. 
Wanda tucked the crystal under her shirt when her fingers brushed the letter once more. The school logo printed on the top right called her name. It felt wrong to intrude, but the more she reminded herself of the situation, the less she cared about her morals. 
Gently sliding the letter from under the box, Wanda quickly read it. Eyebrows furrowed, Wanda read “We regret to inform you…”
Y/n shuffled back into the room causing Wanda to straighten up. “Sorry about that. I need to get Natasha. She’s stuck at some frat party without a ride back home.” The brunette crumpled the piece of paper and tucked it into her pocket.  Y/n was too distracted to notice. “Again, I’m really sorry but congratulations on the win Wanda.” Y/n looked at Wanda with the most sincere eyes. “Incase no one has told you, I’m really proud of you.” 
With one last look, Y/n left her dorm, hoping the Wanda would be decent enough to lock it up for her. And all Wanda could focus on was the sound of her name leaving Y/n’s lips. ‘You never call me Wanda.’
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‘Like hell I’m going to let this happen.’ Wanda stormed into her father’s office, knowing he would be working another late night. The clear warm glow from his room indicated that he was there. 
Storming through the doors caused him to look up from his computer, clearly unexpecting guests at that moment. 
“Give her scholarship back.” Wanda slammed the letter onto his desk, crossing her arms hoping to show that she wasn’t messing around. The brunette couldn’t think straight about anything after she fully read the letter, and by now, she didn’t know whether to strangle Y/n for not telling her or for her father to even approve such decisions. 
“This decision was not made lightly.” Wanda could read past her father’s sentence and she was not going to take no for an answer. 
“Then clearly you’ve made the wrong decision.” Eric sighed knowing just how stubborn his daughter was. It was unfortunately a trait she got from him. Knowing fully well just how smart Wanda was, explaining this decision was going to be a disaster and a headache away. 
Looking past the letter and into his daughter’s eyes, he’s never seen her be this angry. Sure they’ve had arguments, but they’ve subsided ever since she started to attend college. Eric was hoping it was because Wanda was getting older and more mature. 
But as she stood there, eyebrows furrowed with a frown on her face, it felt like she was 16 all over again. Not wanting to beat around the bush, Eric figured to cut to the chase. 
“She’s a threat.” He didn’t like to admit it, but there was hardly anyone on campus that could match his daughter’s intelligence. This was something Eric wanted to keep. But the more he noticed Y/n move up on the Dean’s list, the more he feared Wanda’s spot would be threated. While he was confident in his daughter’s ability, he simply wanted to keep her spot safe. And that meant dealing with Y/n.
“She’s my equal.” All the guilt from the competition finally made sense. And as more things continued to click, the more Wanda stood in horror at the things she said to Y/n. This was all starting to become a nightmare, one that Wanda prayed to go away. But the look on her father’s face pissed her off even more. “If you don’t, I’m transferring. And there’s nothing you can do that will stop me.” 
Giving him no time to respond, Wanda walked out of the office. There was no time to think about her ultimatum, not when all she could think about was Y/n. 
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‘Say something to her, Wanda, for fucks sake.’ It was finally the last day of the semester. Every student was mandated to leave by a certain time. While there was a large crowd of kids with their backpacks and suitcases, all Wanda could focus on was the goodbye happening between Natasha and Y/n.
The brunette had stayed up all night figuring out ways to get Y/n’s scholarship back. At one point, she even considered paying for Y/n’s tuition herself if it meant getting her to come back. But her father would immediately block her allowance if he caught wind of this. 
So far, she hadn’t gotten a response back from him. ‘Maybe he needs more time.’ But time was running out as Natasha helped Y/n with the last box. Percy was already in the driver seat, ready for the long drive back home. 
She could overhear their goodbyes and that Natasha would visit soon to hear the full story. But still, Wanda stood paralyzed, unable to move. ‘What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if I was too mean to her?’ 
And as Y/n got into the car, waving her goodbyes, Wanda stood behind the tree, clutching on to the only thing she had of Y/n. Tears quietly fell down her cheeks, a lingering question on her mind. ‘Did I push you away when you needed me the most?’ 
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pinkmoontaco · 2 days ago
Text
Fake It till We Make It || Hwang Hyunjin
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Pairing: Idol Hyunjin X Actress Y/n Genre: Fluff, Fake relationship Summary: You and Hyunjin are paired for a fake relationship to boost your public image, but what happens when fake sparks turn real?
If you have any request for other members or other groups, feel free to do so
The sound of your manager’s voice grated against your nerves, filling the small office space with an energy you couldn’t match today.
“You need this,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Your last movie tanked. The press is calling you ‘forgettable.’ Forgettable! We need to change the narrative.”
You leaned back in the leather chair, rubbing your temples. “And you think dating some idol is the solution? This is my career, not a reality show.”
Your manager’s eyes narrowed. “Not just ‘some idol.’ Hyunjin. From Stray Kids. One of the most talked-about stars right now.”
You frowned. You knew who Hyunjin was—everyone did. The golden boy of the K-pop world, known for his striking looks and graceful dancing. But lately, his name had been splashed across tabloids for all the wrong reasons: rumors of diva behavior, an old controversy that resurfaced out of nowhere, and a supposed feud with another idol.
“Why him?” you asked cautiously.
“Because he’s in hot water, too,” she replied, leaning forward. “His team is desperate to clean up his image, and a sweet, wholesome love story will do the trick for both of you. You’ll be trending for weeks. Cute couple photos, red carpet appearances, a few strategically timed interviews. It’s perfect.”
“Perfectly insane,” you muttered, but your manager ignored you.
“His team is already on board. They think you’re a great match. All you have to do is meet him, sign the NDA, and play the part.”
Before you could argue further, the door opened, and your breath caught in your throat. Hyunjin stepped in, radiating a kind of effortless charm that made your argument falter.
He was tall, dressed in a fitted black turtleneck and an oversized blazer, his hair tied back loosely. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, he looked as uncertain as you felt.
“Hi,” he said, his voice soft but confident. “So... I hear we’re supposed to fall in love.”
You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “You’re... okay with this?”
Hyunjin shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Not really. But apparently, this is what we need to survive.”
There was a beat of silence before you sighed, leaning forward. “Alright. Let’s get one thing straight. This is a business arrangement. No feelings, no drama. Just stick to the script, and we’ll both get through this.”
His smirk widened, and he tilted his head. “You make it sound so romantic.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. This was going to be a long, long ride.
Hyunjin didn’t seem to take anything seriously. At least, that’s how it felt during your first meeting. As the two of you sat across from each other in a dimly lit conference room, discussing the parameters of your “relationship,” his carefree attitude grated on your nerves.
“Let’s start with the basics,” his PR manager said, flipping through a folder. “How did you two meet?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Hyunjin cut in with a grin. “She saw me at a fan meet, fell in love at first sight, and begged me for my number.”
You blinked at him, unimpressed. “Or” you countered, “we met at an industry party and hit it off after a deep conversation about art and music.”
Hyunjin’s brow arched. “Deep conversation? That’s a little ambitious, don’t you think?”
You resisted the urge to glare. “Well, it’s more believable than me throwing myself at you.”
The PR manager cleared her throat, clearly amused but trying to maintain professionalism. “Let’s meet in the middle. How about you met at a mutual friend’s event? You admired each other’s work, and the connection grew naturally.”
“Fine,” you muttered, avoiding Hyunjin’s amused gaze.
The rest of the meeting was a blur of schedules, photo shoot concepts, and social media strategies. By the time you left, your head was spinning.
“You looked like you were having the time of your life,” Hyunjin teased as he walked you to the door.
You shot him a side-eye. “You’re awfully relaxed about this.”
He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “You get used to it. Pretending is half of what we do anyway.”
The first time you were “spotted” together was at a café, staged to look like a casual date. Cameras clicked from strategic angles as you sipped your latte and pretended to hang on Hyunjin’s every word.
“So,” he said, leaning forward with an easy grin, “do I look like the perfect boyfriend yet?”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Do you ever stop joking?”
“Only when I’m asleep.”
Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny he was good at this. He knew how to angle himself for the cameras, how to flash just the right smile to make every photo look candid.
“You’re surprisingly professional,” you admitted, reluctantly impressed.
“Why, thank you,” he said, feigning a bow. “And you? Not bad for someone who claims to hate this idea.”
You didn’t reply, but his words stayed with you.
The first time you saw the cracks in Hyunjin’s carefree façade was during a late-night rehearsal. You had stopped by the JYP practice room to discuss the next day’s schedule, but the sound of music drew you in.
Hyunjin was alone, his movements fluid yet sharp, his expression focused. He didn’t notice you watching until the song ended and he turned, startled.
“Oh. Hey,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“You’re still here?” you asked, stepping closer.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Dancing helps.”
There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something raw and unpolished. You hesitated before speaking. “You’re... really good.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. It’s the one thing I know I can do right.
The comment surprised you. For someone who seemed so confident, it was the first time he’d let his insecurities slip through.
“Maybe you’re better at other things than you think,” you said softly, unsure why you felt compelled to comfort him.
He looked at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe.”
Weeks passed, and the lines between performance and reality began to blur. You spent more time together than apart, attending events, sharing meals, and even rehearsing your “love story” for interviews.
Hyunjin’s teasing became less sharp, and your walls began to lower. You found yourself laughing at his jokes, seeking his opinion on things you never thought to share.
One evening, during a quiet moment on a hotel balcony, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you ever think about what happens when this ends?”
The question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean... this. Us. Pretending to be something we’re not.”
You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I try not to think about it. It’s easier that way.”
He nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. Me too.”
For the first time, the thought of “the end” left an ache in your chest.
The two of you sat in an unfamiliar green room, waiting for your turn on a late-night talk show. Hyunjin was scrolling on his phone, while you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your dress. The show was known for playful interviews that often led to viral moments.
“You’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said, his tone unusually gentle.
You looked up at him, surprised by his sincerity. “What?”
“You’ve been messing with that dress for the past ten minutes,” he said, nodding toward your hands. “Relax. You’re a natural at this stuff.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Hardly. This whole fake dating thing has me second-guessing everything.”
Hyunjin set his phone down, his expression softening. “Look, just follow my lead. They love us together.”
His confidence was reassuring, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to trust him.
When it was your turn onstage, Hyunjin kept his promise. He answered questions with practiced ease, throwing in playful remarks that made the audience laugh. When the host asked about your “relationship,” Hyunjin reached over to take your hand.
“It’s been amazing,” he said, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.
For a moment, the world seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you. The warmth of his hand, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—it felt real.
And that terrified you.
After the show, you found yourselves walking back to the hotel, the cool night air refreshing after hours under studio lights. Hyunjin, still buzzing with energy, suggested a detour.
“There’s this rooftop I go to sometimes,” he said. “The view’s incredible.”
You hesitated but eventually agreed. A short elevator ride later, you were standing atop a quiet rooftop overlooking the city. The lights stretched endlessly, a shimmering sea of color and life.
“Wow,” you murmured, leaning against the railing.
“Right?” Hyunjin joined you, his voice softer now. “It’s one of the few places that makes me feel... small, in a good way.”
You glanced at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “Do you ever miss being just... normal?”
“All the time,” he admitted. “But then I think about the people who believe in me, who find comfort in what I do. That makes it worth it.”
His words resonated with you, and for the first time, you saw past the idol persona. This wasn’t Hyunjin the star—this was just Hyunjin, a young man trying to make sense of his place in the world.
As the two of you stood there, sharing quiet thoughts under the stars, you felt something shift. The lines between what was fake and what was real began to blur even further.
The turning point came during a gala event. You were dressed to the nines, smiling politely as you mingled with industry elites. Hyunjin stayed close, his presence a steadying force.
Then your co-star, Eric, appeared. He was charming and overconfident, and he wasted no time pulling you into a conversation.
Hyunjin, watching from a distance, felt a strange pang in his chest as he saw you laughing at Eric’s jokes. He told himself it was all part of the act—after all, this wasn’t real.
But when Eric leaned in a little too close, Hyunjin found himself walking over.
“Hey,” he said smoothly, slipping an arm around your waist. “Everything okay here?”
You blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden possessiveness. “Yeah, we were just—”
Great,” Hyunjin cut in, his smile tight. “But we should probably get back to the table. They’re about to announce the next award.”
Eric raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. As Hyunjin led you away, his hand lingering at your waist, you couldn’t help but notice the tension in his jaw.
“Was that necessary?” you asked once you were out of earshot.
Hyunjin didn’t meet your eyes. “Probably not.”
You studied him, a flicker of understanding dawning. Was he... jealous?
That night, back at the hotel, you knocked on Hyunjin’s door. He opened it, looking surprised to see you.
“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.
He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was dimly lit, and the atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken words.
“What’s going on?” you asked, crossing your arms. “You’ve been acting... strange.”
Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” you challenged. “Because it sure seemed like you were about to deck Eric earlier.”
His gaze finally met yours, and for the first time, you saw hesitation there. “I guess I just didn’t like seeing him flirt with you.”
“Why?” you pressed, your heart pounding.
He hesitated, then sighed. “Because maybe this doesn’t feel so fake anymore.”
The confession hung between you, leaving you breathless
Hyunjin’s words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, trying to process what he has just said.
“This doesn’t feel so fake anymore,” he repeated, softer this time, like he was testing the words himself.
You shook your head, stepping back instinctively. “Hyunjin, we can’t... This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I know,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “But maybe it was inevitable. We’ve spent so much time together—”
“It’s an act,” you interrupted, more forcefully than you intended. “That’s all it is. We agreed from the beginning: no feelings, no drama.”
He flinched at your words, his expression clouding. “Right. No feelings.”
You could see the hurt in his eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away. You couldn’t afford to let this become real. Not when your careers, your reputations—everything—was on the line.
“I should go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hyunjin didn’t stop you, and that made it worse.
After that night, things changed. Hyunjin became distant, his playful demeanor replaced by quiet professionalism. You told yourself this was for the best—that keeping your distance would make it easier to maintain the illusion without getting tangled in your emotions.
But it didn’t feel easier.
The staged dates, the red-carpet appearances, even the candid moments for the cameras—all of it felt emptier now. You missed the way Hyunjin used to tease you, the way he could make you laugh even when you didn’t want to.
It wasn’t until a fan event, weeks later, that the tension finally boiled over.
A fan asked Hyunjin about your relationship, and he gave his usual charming answer, but there was a noticeable edge to his tone. Afterward, when you were alone backstage, you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What’s your problem?” you snapped.
Hyunjin turned to you, his expression unreadable. “My problem? I’m just doing what you wanted—keeping it professional.”
You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t have to be so cold about it!”
He let out a bitter laugh. “What do you want from me? You were the one who said this was just an act.”
“I didn’t mean—” You stopped yourself, realizing you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
Hyunjin stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “What didn’t you mean?”
Your breath hitched. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the crowd outside.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling.
Hyunjin’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “Not if it’s going to hurt like this.”
The tension between you and Hyunjin came to a head during a joint interview. The host, sensing the awkwardness, asked a question that caught both of you off guard.
“What’s the most unexpected thing you’ve learned about each other?”
Hyunjin hesitated, glancing at you before answering. “She’s a lot stronger than she gives herself credit for.”
His words took you by surprise. For the first time in weeks, you saw a glimpse of the Hyunjin you’d gotten to know—the one who saw past your walls and made you feel seen.
When it was your turn to answer, you found yourself speaking without thinking. “He’s not as carefree as he seems
Hyunjin’s eyes met yours, and in that moment, something shifted.
Later that night, after the interview, you found yourself standing outside Hyunjin’s hotel room. Your heart raced as you knocked on the door, unsure of what you were going to say but knowing you couldn’t leave things as they were.
He opened the door, his expression wary but hopeful. “Hey.”
“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice trembling.
He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words.
“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your hands twisting nervously. “About what you said… about how this doesn’t feel fake anymore.”
Hyunjin watched you carefully, his eyes searching yours. “And?”
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You’re right. It doesn’t feel fake. At least, not to me.”
His eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through his guarded expression. “Are you saying…?”
“I’m saying I’m scared,” you admitted. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like this doesn’t mean anything. Because it does. You do.”
For a moment, Hyunjin didn’t say anything. Then, without warning, he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
You clung to him, tears pricking at your eyes. “You didn’t.”
The next day, when you stepped out together for another staged appearance, something was different. The smiles, the hand-holding, the lingering glances—they weren’t for the cameras anymore.
They were for each other.
And this time, it was real.
The first kiss happened unexpectedly. It wasn’t during a red-carpet event or a photo shoot—it was in the quiet of your apartment, after a long day.
Hyunjin had stopped by to drop off some documents your managers wanted you to review together. You were sitting on the couch, bickering playfully over the wording of a statement when Hyunjin suddenly went quiet.
“What?” you asked, glancing up.
He was looking at you with that soft, unreadable expression he often had when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... You look really beautiful right now.”
Your cheeks burned, and you let out a nervous laugh. “Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not teasing,” he said, leaning closer. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and your breath hitched.
The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, Hyunjin deepened it, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips moved against yours.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless.
“That wasn’t in the script,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.
Hyunjin grinned. “Maybe we should improvise more often.”
If you thought the kiss marked a turning point in your relationship, the real test came when the rest of Stray Kids found out.
It happened during a casual group hangout at their dorm. You and Hyunjin had been careful to keep your relationship private, but apparently, not careful enough.
“You two are acting weird,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes as he watched you and Hyunjin sit suspiciously far apart on the couch.
“Weird how?” Hyunjin asked, feigning innocence.
“Weird as in, you’re trying too hard not to look at each other,” Seungmin chimed in, smirking.
Before you could deny it, Changbin leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wait a second. Did something happen between you two?”
Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Yes, something happened.”
Weeks after the public reveal, life settled into a new rhythm. You and Hyunjin were still navigating the world as a couple, balancing the constant demands of work and your blossoming relationship. The attention from fans and the media was overwhelming at times, but you had each other to lean on.
One quiet afternoon, you were at a cafe, sharing a rare moment of peace away from the chaos. Hyunjin was sitting across from you, fiddling with his phone while you sipped on your iced coffee. The soft hum of conversation and the sound of clinking cups created a comforting atmosphere.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” Hyunjin said, looking up from his phone.
“Uh-oh,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “I’m serious, okay? We’ve been at this for a while now faking it, being real, all of it. But... I want more. I want to know what it’s like when there’s no pressure. No cameras, no fans, just you and me.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “More?” you repeated, your voice soft.
He nodded, setting his phone aside. “Yeah. More dates without anyone watching. More lazy days where we can just be ourselves. I want to take this slow, but also, I don’t want to waste any more time pretending it’s not real.”
You felt a warmth spread through you, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tight. “I want that too,” you whispered.
The smile he gave you in return made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The simple gesture felt more meaningful than any grand declaration.
“Then it’s settled,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “No more pretending. Just us.”
And as you left the cafe, hand in hand, it felt like the first step toward truly being yourselves—no more masks, no more facades.
Of course, even though you and Hyunjin were more serious than ever, that didn’t mean the teasing from the members stopped. If anything, it got worse.
One evening, after a long day of practice, the Stray Kids members were all lounging around in the dorm, taking a break. You and Hyunjin had just come back from a walk, still holding hands when you entered the living room.
“Look who it is, the couple of the century,” Changbin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Shut up,” Hyunjin grumbled, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “You guys are the worst.”
Felix grinned, giving you a knowing look. “We just need to see if you two are as cute off-camera as you are on. I’m still waiting for a public kiss, you know.”
You shot him a glare, but Hyunjin wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Maybe we’ll give you a kiss when you stop being so nosy,” he said, his voice teasing.
“Oh, that’s it,” Han chimed in, making a face. “I’m going to vomit.”
You laughed, your hand slipping into Hyunjin’s as you sat down beside him. “You’re all insufferable.”
“They just want to see how sweet you two are together,” Seungmin said with a smirk. “But I have to admit, it’s nice to see Hyunjin like this. He’s never been this... open.”
your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked up at Hyunjin, who was now giving Seungmin an exaggerated side-eye. “Don’t make it sound like I was some mystery,” he said, though the grin on his face betrayed him.
You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at the thought of how far the two of you had come. What started as a simple arrangement had evolved into something deeper, something real, and the teasing, while relentless, only made it feel more genuine.
One rainy afternoon, as you were curled up on the couch in your apartment, Hyunjin walked in with an envelope in hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What's this?” you asked, sitting up and eyeing him curiously.“It’s a surprise,” he said with a wink, handing you the envelope.
Inside was a ticket for a private art exhibit that was being held at a museum in the city. The exhibit was a collection of works from various contemporary artists, and it was known for being intimate, with only a handful of people allowed in at a time.
“I got us tickets,” Hyunjin said, his voice soft. “I know you love art, and I thought it’d be a good way to spend some time together, away from everything else.”
Your heart melted. “Hyunjin, this is so thoughtful.”
He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “I figured it would be something different. Plus, we get to walk around the exhibit hand-in-hand without worrying about paparazzi or cameras.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “You really do know how to surprise me.”
As the two of you spent the afternoon wandering through the quiet halls of the museum, talking about the paintings and sculptures that caught your eye, you felt the world outside fade away. It was just the two of you, sharing something special, and it felt perfect.
Later that evening, after a quiet dinner, Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment, his hand still holding yours tightly.
“Thanks for today,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. “It was one of the best days I’ve had in a while.”
Hyunjin smiled down at you, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I’m glad. I’ll always find ways to make you happy.”
And as he kissed you gently under the dim light of your apartment hallway, you knew he meant every word.
Months passed, and your relationship with Hyunjin only grew stronger. There were still moments of teasing from the members, still the occasional bout of nerves before public appearances, but through it all, you both knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t just an act anymore.
One evening, as the two of you sat together on the rooftop of the dorm, gazing out at the city lights, Hyunjin turned to you with a serious expression.
“You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “when we first started this, I never thought we’d end up here. But now, I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you reached over, taking his hand. “Me neither,” you said softly. “I think I’ve always known it was real, even if I didn’t want to admit it.”
Hyunjin smiled, leaning in to kiss you. “Then let’s make it real—forever.”
As you kissed him, the world around you faded, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.
The End... or perhaps just the beginning.
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