#but she said I shouldn't like keep that from me being friends with him

[nothingbutspacedebris]

"They didn't used to be like this."

Misha kicks his legs, swinging them over the edge of the rooftop. Sofia, next to him, swings more jarringly, even if just to keep the two of them in time.

They're talking about Helios again. It seems they're all the two of them talk about these days.

"But they are now. Don't you think you deserve to have something more?"

"What, like you?" Misha winces as the words leave his mouth. "I didn't mean-"

"I know."

Their relationship is nothing like it used to be when they were kids, and that's probably for the best. But the line they walk now is uneasy friendship, with all the pitfalls that come from being bitter exes, then enemies, then allies, before rekindling into anything remotely friendly. They swing wildly between quiet, comfortable companionship shared on nights like tonight, and sharp comments that shine a light on the work they still need to do.

"I don't 'have' Helios, Sofia," Misha says, making air quotes around "have" in a way that suggests he's trying, very hard, to appear derisive and detached.

"They're in your life, though." Sofia turns to look at Misha, tucks one knee up under her chin. "And that's great. It's what you wanted. But I can't help but think..."

"Oh, not thinking's pretty easy."

He's aiming for lightness, for brevity, but even Misha knows the joke's fallen flat.

"I can't help but think," Sofia pushes on, "that this isn't what you wanted. Not really."

Misha says nothing.

"You said it yourself. They didn't used to be like this. You deserve better."

"You think this isn't better? You think better is when I knew, in my heart, every time they looked at me, that they resented me? You think better was living in secret because the one person I love is the one person who can never know? My relationship with Helios now is exactly what I deserve. It's what they deserve. It's not perfect, and it's going to take time, but it's not a lie. It's not seething resentment. It's..."

He trails off. Sofia doesn't reply. Standard, these days. Misha sighs.

"I'm sorry. This was supposed to be a chill night. I shouldn't have brought it up. I just... They're different. And I don't know how to... to... to be around them now."

"I don't think any of us know how to be around each other right now," Sofia says quietly. Misha knows she means it generally - that they're learning how to be friends, how to exist in the same space, but it still brings the sharp sting of rejection when she stands.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mishka."

Writing Prompt #2867

"He didn't used to be like this."

"But he is now. Don't you think you deserve something more?"

[phillycheesesteakcore]

So there's this famous quote from Trevor Noah:

“The way my mother always explained it, the traditional man wants a woman to be subservient, but he never falls in love with subservient women. He's attracted to independent women. "He's like an exotic bird collector," she said. "He only wants a woman who is free because his dream is to put her in a cage.”

And if that isn't Trucker Trout to a T.

Trudy was studying physical education, she wanted to start women's sports teams. That is not a traditional woman, especially for the time. By their standards she was probably very much a tomboy, maybe even to the extent of being described as mannish. But that's the woman Tucker decided he wanted, the woman he had have, to own. To beat (figuratively, as far as we know) into submission and mold into the perfect housewife. Why? Well to prove he could I suppose.

And when she left him, oh that had to hurt. The woman that he had so meticulously chained to his side deciding he wasn't worth being with and having the nerve to do something about it. Even the son he gave her, the son that, according to her (or at least the part of her that is Rosie), was her crowing achievement, wasn't enough to keep her with him.

She leaves him, and she shouldn't survive. A single woman all on her own with no friends or family to speak of in the 1950's? She should've come crawling back to him within days, throwing herself at his mercy, begging him to take her back. But she doesn't — she flourishes. She makes her way to California, gets a job, starts a relationship, makes a life for herself, leaves him in the dust.

Tucker could have just counted his losses, made the best of the situation and moved on. He's a strong man, strong enough to carry a robot in his arms up a hiking path and into a mine. He's incredibly intelligent and has a steady government job. He's a catch. He could easily find himself a new woman eager to fulfill the role of doting wife and stepmother. But he doesn't want just any woman, he wants Trudy.

So he tracks her down, gets all the way to California. He lures her back to his hotel, not even for him, but with the promise of info on the son she left behind, likely another blow to his ego. And he kidnaps her. Drags her all the way back to Peachyville. Takes her apart. Literally molds her into his perfect bride. Less of a modern day Prometheus and more of a modern day Pygmalion with his Galatea. She is made of steel rather marble, and he calls on science rather than the goddess Aphrodite to bring her to life. But it's the same idea, isn't it?

He didn't need to do that, did he? We've seen Lil' Tuck and Tiffany, he can clearly create near-perfect facsimiles of life. He could have just as easily made himself a new Trudy from scratch, without all the messiness of kidnapping the original and actually using her brain. He could have made a version of her that would never truly gain sentience, never disobey, never step out of line, always love and care and nurture. If anything, he'd at last never have to risk anything as potentially scandalous as being seen dropping his wife down a mineshaft.

But it wouldn't be the same, would it? It wouldn't be the woman he once conquered, the woman he caged, the woman bested him and did in the end manage to escape. She got the last laugh.

And Tucker Trout strikes me as a sore loser.

[strawberryserpent]

There's this guy that i loooooove talking to and like. Dare I say I think we would be like. Cute together. But if I were to make a move my best friend would like murder me mayhaps.

[tiddiesoutwhenthetisout]

not me curling my laptop charger wire the way you curl band equipment cords HAHAHA god i miss it

[gothgoblinbabe]

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings:  ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!

Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.

Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)

divider credit here and here

Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:

Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.

“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”

Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.

He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.

Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.

“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”

“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”

As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.

You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.

He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.

“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.

“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.

You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.

Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.

“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “

“Fuck off.”

His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.

“ I'm Logan.”

You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.

He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.

And you still had that look on your face.

“Night.”

With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”

From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.

When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”

You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.

“God, shut up.”

Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.

“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.

He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV. 

“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.

You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.

“Hell no.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”

“Uh - huh.”

Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.

You focused back on the TV screen.

“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.

“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”

You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.

“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “

“Wade.”

He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”

You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.

“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”

That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.

“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.

“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.

You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.

“He’s older and he’s hot -”

“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”

You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”

Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.

“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”

That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”

“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”

“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - “

“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”

Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.

“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”

Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”

“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault. 

“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”

You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.

“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”

Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.

“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”

That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle. 

Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed. 

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.

“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “

Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about? 

“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”

That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.

“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.

“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?” 

“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.

Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”

So you were talking about him. 

Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain. 

On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth. 

“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room. 

Logan was in the other room.

Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”

Adorable, even. 

“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.

Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.

“We’ll find out.”

With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.

“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”

“Breakfast.”

“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”

Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him. 

Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”

Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”

Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”

“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”

Logan was glaring daggers into his skull. 

“I live here.”

The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”

“Ew.”

“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”

As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails. 

He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.

“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.

“Yes!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.

“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “

Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.

“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.

“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”

You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.

“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.

“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.

He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay. 

He almost wished you would.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”

“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.

 They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room. 

“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”

“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”

He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment. 

“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.

“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”

He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.

“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container. 

Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.

You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.

“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind. 

You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”

You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.

As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.

“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”

He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”

You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”

He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.

It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.

“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.

“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.

“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’

You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”

He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.

As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.

He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “

‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.

“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”

“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.

 Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.

“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.

“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.” 

He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”

“Me neither.”

It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.

“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “

You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.

“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.

“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”

That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”

You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.

“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile. 

It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.

He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining. 

“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”

You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”

For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”

That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.

“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”

That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.

The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.

“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.

You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s. 

“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.

You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”

“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”

“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”

He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.

In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them. 

“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”

He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.

“Logan, can you grab a-”

You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.

He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.

“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”

“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.

“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”

Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.

“It’s fast.”

His voice was closer.

“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”

You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.

“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.

“What are you talking about?” 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.

His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.

“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”

You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.

“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “

His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.

“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”

One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.

“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.

He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.

“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.

“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that. 

You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”

“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”

“And what exactly was that?”

If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.

He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.

“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”

Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.

“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”

There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.

“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.

That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over. 

“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.

“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”

You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.

You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”

He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.

He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.

“Tastes so fucking good.”

Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.

“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.

“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”

You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.

“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”

You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”

It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.

He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”

He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”

His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up. 

“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.

“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”

You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.

Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels. 

When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.

“Can I take you to the bed?”

You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.

He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.

You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.

“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”

That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”

“I’ll call him later.”

His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you. 

“You’re okay with this?”

If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.

You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.

You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.

“ ‘s okay?”

Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”

He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.

“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.

Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.

“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”

“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.

It did, of course.

You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”

You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.

“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”

His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.

You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.

“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “

He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.

“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.

“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.

“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.

He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early? 

Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.

Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.

“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”

On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.

“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”

Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering. 

Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.

“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“

He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.

He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “

Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.

“You're welcome, by the way!”

He shut the door and you laughed.

Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.

In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing? 

Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.

“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”

You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’d love that.”

A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3

[poguehearted77]

Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Fix it yourself

James Potter x Bsf!Slytherin!Reader - Sirius Black x BrothersBsf!Slytherin!Reader (endgame)

Best Friend by Rex Orange County

Masterlist

Wc- 12011

Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.

Cw; Cussing, Manipulation, James is such an arse (I love him don't come for me), self indulgent, themes of abuse and abandonment, sexual content and scenes, Jealous James being rude, Protective Sirius, Substance use, Reader had her things destroyed, dad gets sick, nudity, {let me know if I forgot anything!}

Taglist- @otterlockholmes

A/N: Shout out to @our-sweet-t-universe, this would not of been a smidge of happy in this fic if it wasn't for you. Next post will be part two to zombies and then two requests!

An endless cycle of churning.

That was what your dad called it. You and James’s push and pull of affections to hatred.

When you were younger, you could never imagine a life without James Fleamont Potter. He was your favorite person since you could remember names. Your father was an apothecary, business partners turned close friends with Fleamont Potter, or as you called him since you could speak, “Uncle Flea.”

Your father traveled for his work, always researching better ingredients and replacements, selling his remade patents of popular potions back to the creators in exchange to sell their potions and the ingredients. Your father was a clever businessman, a proud Slytherin in his school years. Fleamont would joke, every Potter had their Slytherin. Let that be romantic, as his mother and father, or platonic like him and your father.

James was still ever the dramatic, determined to believe he would never need his Slytherin, he didn't want a Slytherin. He had you, that was all he needed.

Oblivious and fiesty you would agree with anything he said to keep the ever confident boy talking. His voice was your favorite part of James Potter, which worked wonders with your ever quiet disposition.

“I don't need a Slytherin! I have {Y/n}!” James would fuss when the teasing began. “She's cooler then any green robe!”

“Yeah! I'm cooler than any green robe!” You would snap out of whatever day dream you were having as you played with your fathers miniature carvings he would make you in his travels. He always brought you one back, with a moving photo of him in some fantastical place posing with them.

Your father would smile knowingly at Fleamont, as Euphemia called you into the kitchen to help set the table, as was a part of your nightly routine. James pouted after you as he was left alone with the dads.

While your father traveled more, you spent more time with the Potters. Back then, you were always so sad about it, watching the window and waiting longingly for your father to return.

Around your older years, seven to eight, you finally learned to appreciate what they did for you. It's not that you ever showed you were ungrateful, your father had just always been your favorite person. Being away from him felt so much longer than it was.

You spent most of your time running around the large property and making it your own with James. You would carve path marks into trees and divide your territory. You would wage war and swim in the creek.

One summer, Fleamont even helped you build a treehouse. A treehouse you guys never used after that after that, outside of a hiding place for things you most certainly shouldn't have. That, and the ever growing collection of your father’s wood carvings, all on top of a silver padlock box with your father’s photos.

“These are for you and James to play with.”

He always made sure you knew that. Even if James was never particularly fond of them, he loved the stories your father returned with about them. So fond, in fact, that he kept a particular carving of a dragon when your dad told you both about the time he was attacked by one. Painted it and all, the only figurine not in the treehouse, Grandos.

The first time James exited your life was your ninth birthday. You were at the Potters again over the summer, when your aunt suddenly came to pick you up in the middle of a cold rainy night. Suddenly you were awoken from your fort on the couch with James, both of you snuggled under a mountain of blankets. Euphemia continued to come back and tuck you in.

It was quick and the adults seemed panicked. When you made it home you found your father bedridden, with dragonpox.

You spent that entire summer into the fall spending time with him. Your auntie gifted you a muggle toy, a two way radio. She set one up to always be on for your father. You would walk around the house with yours, turning it on to say something to your father just to listen to him cough and wheeze, the only sign he was still breathing.

James would send you letters but you never got to reading them. Just staying home and wandering the house. Your young mind finding paintings your father had hung himself to tell him about, reminding him what it was like in the kitchen, the silliest things to remind your father you were still there.

Everyday. Everynight.

Eventually, your father got better, and he summoned the Potters to Diagon Alley for a bite to eat. It was the first time you had seen James in three months. For two eight year olds, that seemed like forever ago.

James pouted through dinner, then the walk around the park. Every attempt to talk to him was met with loud sniffling and sobs for you to leave him alone. The Potter parents would wince at the interactions, eventually ending up with two blubbering children, both crying because they wanted to be friends again.

“You ignored me!” James shouted, making a scene.

“I was spending time with my da!” You would fuss back, fists clenched and your foot stamping.

“I thought you hated me!” He blubbered back and you began to sob louder. “I-I woke up and you were gone!”

“Why are you crying so hard, Niffler?” Your father would coo, not the least bit bothered by the prying eyes around the public place.

“Because Jamie thinks I hate him!” You shouted out, turning to your father and dragging your fists over your swollen eyes.

“Do you hate little Jamie?” He pushed and James sobbed louder at the question.

“No! I love Jamie!” You sobbed out and James gave a louder wail.

“I love you too!”

“Then forgive me!”

“Okay!”

Like that, you were once again spending every waking moment with the chocolate haired boy. That summer your father was cleared to work, and he never turned down the chance.

You went back to the Potters and spent the time you had with James like you never stopped being friends. Running through the forest, jumping in the creek, and now, James found a passion for listening to you read before bed.

When you both got your Hogwarts letters, you both demanded to be the first to get your wands. So, before August even came, you and James shared the most special moments of your childhood. Getting your wand from Olivander and getting your very own owl from Eeylops.

James ended up with a snowy owl he named Snow. You thought it was the most clever thing in the world, his parents just smiled knowingly at each other. You got a barn owl you named an equally clever name. Barn.

Thinking back on it, they should have never let you leave that store with that poor owl.

You gave James a lot of your favorite memories to cherish. He kept them the second time you stopped talking.

That was, when you both made it to Hogwarts. You walked into the grand hall holding hands, laughing about some stupid joke he made that was certainly not worth a laugh. You loved to feed his ego, his mother would say. You would just agree.

“His ego is never starved.” She would smirk and you would simply shrug with a cheeky grin.

“But it could always eat.”

You left the grand hall in tears and a green robe. He was already far ahead of you, in his own red robes, acting as if those eleven years of friendship were nothing to him. Much to your dismay, you didn't have your father to come save you this time, tell you his wise words and share his bit of wisdom for you to find your way through the pain.

There was no comfort found in the snakes den. Your dorm was shared with girls who seemed to have no other concerns then your blood status. You were a pureblood, of course, but their questions only caused you further distress. That night you cried silently into your pillow.

That night, and the next, and the next.

Eventually, you learned to cope to the cold dungeons. You became calm and emotionless, like the others. Learning to adapt to your surroundings.

James’s mutters of who you really were hurt more then you could ever imagine. You loved James Potter before you knew what love was. You were sure whatever yearning was in your chest went both ways. You guess you were wrong.

He made new friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. He wanted nothing to do with you.

So, you made friends as well. Cruel ones but ones who would protect you. Avery, Mulciber. Severus Snape was the only one you stayed consistently close to. You disliked Lily Evans, for no reason other than the fact she was everything you wanted to be. Gryffindor, smart, pretty, and had James’s attention. You hated watching him outgrow you, and Severus didn't particularly like that you didn't like Lily, but he hated James Potter so you both remained in an isolated boat of similarity.

As the year went on you grew to hate your colors more then anything. You learned that no matter what had happened, Slytherin was at fault. No matter your justification, you were wrong. Keeping your head down and remaining quiet was the safest you'd have it.

When the year came to an end, you went home. You told your father of the more recent events and he was mortified. You found solas in his arms as you always did. Being home was like a time out, protection from everything else around you. You were alone and happy. Safe and as far away from James Potter as possible.

But that made the yearning worse.

Your father tried to convince you to write him a letter for closure, but you could never pick up a quill. You don't want to know the vile things he thought of you.

Much to your surprise, however, your father called you down a week into your summer break. At the door, none other then James Potter. He was sniffling, clenching the dragon statue in his hands and rubbing his eyes. Your father left you two be, and you welcomed him in.

Of course you did.

It was your Jamie.

The second he entered he told you about how woes, how his concerns for Sirius, his dear friend, his best friend, made him appreciate what he had a bit more. It also forced him to realize, he was doing the same to you. The isolation over a house was never fair. He felt like a right arse.

“So you don't hate me?” You sniffled.

James shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I'm sorry, {Y/N}.” He sobbed and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He held you back tight, and nuzzled his nose into your cheek. “Forgive me?”

“Okay.” Your voice cracked.

You shouldn't have forgiven him, because it became a pattern. The summer you were back to as thick as thieves, you had never seen Mrs. Potter more relived then when you returned to their home.

But when school started again, he went back to practically no contact. It was your James, though. You needed him.

Over the years you went from best friends over the summer to semi strangers in the halls. Everytime he'd come to your door with a bright smile and take you to his house. Even your fathers relationship with Fleamont began to grew strained because of the behavior. You were so hurt, all the time, but James would fix it.

James would know what to say and when to say it. James, never having a malicious bone in his body, didn't seem to understand what he was doing to you. You didn't know either.

By the time year three rolled around, the four of them seemed to tamper down their hatred for Slytherins, focusing purely on the ones they deemed evil. Even letting you into their groups on occasion. You clung to what little James would give you everytime. You ignored your jealousy of Sirius and James' closeness. You ignored Remus’s pitiful looks and Peter's tactless comments.

However, you had began to grow into yourself a bit more over the school year. You had more time to yourself, more time away from James. You met a few new people, one being a girl named Pandora.

She observed you every time you were with James, would utter small comments here and there about what she found in the blandest monotone. It was tough love she didn't even intend. You quickly realized that the friendship you shared with James went from two friends who would rather die then be apart, to two people.

You were just people.

~~~~

That summer, when James came over to retrieve you, you made that clear.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Potter.” You started with a soft smile in your doorway. He flinched at the formal name.

“What? You're not coming home?” He asked in a low heartbroken whisper. “My mum wants to see you.”

“I am home. I'll ask da if he plans to have you over for dinner.” You placate and look back to the proud but sympathetic look on your dads face from where he hid behind the door. As always, right there. “I'll see you later?”

“But- I- we don't get to hang out over the school year, I just figured-”

“Thank you again for the invite. Maybe some other time.”

When fourth year comes around you and James remain friendly in the halls. It was like the entire lives you had led before Hogwarts and over the summers were just secrets between the two of you now.

You spent more time with Severus, Dorcas, Pandora, Barty, and Regulus. That made Sirius oddly formal and kind to you as well, you expected the opposite.

It led to a small bit of bonding between the two of you, he would ask you about updates on Regulus and thank you like mad for you looking after the younger boy.

James didn't like how close you two were becoming outside of him. Everyday, you would meet Sirius outside of the library and he would walk you to the dungeons while you talked about his brother and the state of his mind, how he viewed what was happening in the household.

Your conversations would slowly trickle into your day to day life and Sirius would tell you of his. James noticed when Sirius began to get to the dorms later and later.

James would find it in himself to pester, if he wasn't so wrapped around Lily Evans’ finger. You knew it was unfair. You knew from the stories from Pandora, that if you just got to know her, you'd adore her. She was funny, brilliant, brave, kind, and she was enough woman to have James Potter, Severus Snape, and after a small listless confession, Pandora of all people in love.

You hated her, however. You couldn't bring yourself to like someone you wanted to be in the shoes of so badly.

~~~~

Over the summer, you learned Sirius Black had gone to live with the Potters after a particularly rough patch with his parents. With a quick letter to Regulus to gauge his view on the situation, you decided to check on eldest Black. You weren't insanely close with James anymore, but you still invited yourself over.

When the door opened after your knock you were yanked into a bone crushing hug by Fleamont, followed by Euphemia. They welcomed you in with open arms, like they always did. You greeted James with nothing more than a kind smile and walked right past him to go check on Sirius.

James stood in the middle of the hall, confused by your lack of enthusiasm to see him. Knowing the second you made it to the stairs, you were not here for him. A bitter feeling filled his chest.

You didn't know you were breaking the dumb boy's heart. He didn't know it either, but the look his mother gave him when you hurried up the steps said it all.

James had missed you. He had missed you more than life itself. He spent his summers moping in the treehouse you both never went in, fiddling with the things you never should have had. He felt like he was missing a part of himself every time you learned to put your self preservation above his desperate need for you.

But things don't work out perfectly, something the ever spoiled James Potter didn't understand.

He snapped out of his little daze and ran upstairs after you.

You were sitting on the bed in the spare room, hip to hip with the pouty and tired Sirius. He seemed to be rambling on some flirty nonsense that had James growing a bit red.

“You know bird,” Sirius started and you scoffed.

“Don't call me bird.” You reprimanded and he gave you a cheeky smile, his swollen eye just adding to his sloppy charm.

“Birdette?” He offered.

“I'm going home. May your tea be too hot to drink and too cold when you return to it.” You mused and moved to stand before Black grabbed your wrist and nudged you down.

“Cruel witch!” He shouted and you put your hand on his chest, both laughing like fools. James' expression turned tart. You used to laugh with him like that. When you both settled you brush some hair from his face to behind his ear. His lochs clung to his face through the sweat.

“Are you sure you're alright?” You hummed and he nodded, pressing his burning and trembling temple to your cold hand and you thinned your lips.

“Fever has gone down. Mum will be pleased.” You hummed and Sirius gave you a confused look before it clicked to him who you were talking about. You knew her since before you could walk, of course you would consider her your mother. He spotted James in the doorway and noticed the small smile on the teens face when you spoke familiar of his mother.

Sirius knew, how couldn't he? Since year one the only person James seemed to talk about was you. Even when he was pretending to hate you, it was always about you. He could see the way you looked at James too, it was so painfully obvious. Even after all the years of borderline manipulation, something Sirius would grow bitter of if he thought too long about it.

“I should head home.” You hummed and grabbed the discarded rag on the nightstand to clean off some sweat around Sirius’s cheek and neck, doting on your friend much like you did for James.

“No!”

“No, please!”

Both boys shouted together. You jumped and turned to face James, not noticing he had been watching the entire interaction.

You bit your cheek and fiddled with the rag for a moment before you sighed. It was hard enough to say no to James, but a sick Sirius?

You caved.

You spent the summer at the Potter’s again, something your father was cautious of. You were older now, and so was James, you just managed to escape the ‘safe sex’ talk when you went back with James to gather spare clothes, the only thing left at James was from before puberty.

It made you a bit aware that James had grown up. He had always been taller than you, but now he was broader, more defined. Merlin, the boy you grew up with was knee weakening.

The summer was amazing. It was a delight, being around both of them so casually.

Being older now, your fun consisted of much more mature activities. They started innocent, like taking walks around the property where you and James reminisced, sharing your favorite memories of the place with Sirius. Your afternoons baking with Euphemia now shared with the boys who didn't seem to have anything better to waste their time on. Even swimming in the creek like kids.

But you were older now. Afternoon swimming turned into late night skinny dipping. Walks along the trail turned into hiding away in your tree fort, hardly big enough for all three of you and the things you hid away. Smoking Mallowsweet and trying to pretend you weren't high at the dinner table. Not that either parent seemed to mind, just happy you were doing it in a safe environment. They let you three believe you were sneaky however, knowing the thrill is the fun part.

A few days out from going back to school you and the two boys were sitting in the fort again. You took a drag from the messy blunt and passed it to Sirius. You took notice of how he watched the smoke leave your lips. You sent him a playful wink and he wet his lips.

You both turned back to James as he let out a low groan. The attention whore he was not liking how you two continued to share moments he was not apart of.

“What is it, Jamie?” You pushed and he ran his fingers through his hair. “I got word from Evans. Said she would stop reading my letters. Says she thinks I'm in love with someone already.” He huffed.

You rolled your eyes and looked at Sirius who put his hands up to show he would handle it. “Come on mate, she clearly doesn't want ya’ move on.”

You almost face palmed at how Sirius tried to handle it. You cut in when James gave a louder groan. “I know it's not what you want to hear, but some girls just.. aren't going to cave the more you bother them, Jamie.”

“I just don't get it! I'm charming, I'm funny, I'm bloody hot.”

You rolled your eyes hard and made eye contact with a smirking Sirius. “You know he gets this from you, right?”

He chuckled and you slowly smiled at his look. James seemed to grow even more upset when your attention was on Sirius and not him.

“Come off it, mate.” Sirius laughed. “She hasn’t even seen you date one person at that school.”

“That is true. I don't think I would date someone if I didn't have an idea of what it was like.” You remarked airily, rapping your knuckles against your chin.

“So.. date someone to show Lily I'm dateable?” James concluded and you rubbed your temple.

“Or, and just throwing this out there, date someone who wants you?” You scoffed and James rolled his eyes with a mutter. Something along the lines of no one he wants, wants him.

You paused your rubbing before Sirius quickly cleared his throat. “You can't just date someone to impress someone else.” You cut in. “That's incredibly cruel.”

“Well-”

“Sirius, as someone who has not once had a serious girlfriend-”

“I am Sirius. All my girlfriends are Sirius girlfriends-”

You threw a book at him and he blocked it with his forearms, laughing as you huffed.

“But ser- genuinely.” You mused. “Don't go breaking anyone's heart to get her attention.”

“Well, it won't hurt anyone if I.. fake date someone?” He offered and you gave him a confused look. He slowly smiled, a smile that surely meant a bad idea.

“Jamie-”

“Hear me out! Hear me out!” He mused and sat up straighter. “One of you, date me, just for a few months! I can show her how good of a boyfriend I really am!”

You looked at Sirius with the most bewildered and offended look.

“I will not.” Sirius mused and finally put the blunt down. “Love you, but I would rather lick my own boot.”

James scoffed and looked at you hopefully. You bit your lip and thought about it for a moment, you were caving, you knew you were.

How bad could it be? Getting a slice of what you wanted more than anything. James’s full attention. Before you could answer, you heard Sirius mutter your name.

It was so soft, it was so gentle, like if he said it too loud you'd run. You looked over to him, and he gave you a look you couldn't quite decipher. Though, the implication was clear. Don’t.

You sighed through your nose and leaned your head back. Trying to sober yourself up before you continue this conversation. James wiggled his way over to you, putting his arm over your shoulder. “Come on, {Y/N}.” He whined and you thinned your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes. You could melt into them.

Your eyes, not of your own accord, flicked to Sirius and he was still staring at you. Then you realized what the look was, caution. You bit your bottom lip and didn't notice James glaring heavily at Sirius. As if warning him. Sirius's eyes never left yours.

“... Sorry Jamie.” You muttered and he huffed, pulling away from you sharply. You pouted and slowly hugged your knees. Far more valuable with your mind warped by the drugs influence.

James waved his hand dismissively and you looked down at your feet. You watched as a pair of Doc Martens slipped into view on either side of your ankles. You looked up at the owners. You had never seen such a proud look on Sirius’s face. Well, safe for when you told him of Regulus’s new found defiance. He held the smuggest smile and you felt your heart throb. Approval.

“I don't get it, come on {Y/N}-”

“Who does she think you love anyway, James?” Sirius huffed, taking your friend’s attention from you. You sent him an appreciative look.

“She thinks I'm in love with {Y/N}.” He scoffed and your breath hitched a bit. “I mean, it doesn't help that we haven't dated anyone. I figured that if me and {Y/N} dated and broke up she would see how crazy she is.”

You purse your lips at that. Yeah. Crazy. Why would James Potter ever love you?

“Oh!” James exclaimed and sat up, “What if you got a boyfriend?” James pried and you arched an eyebrow at him. “Or, you know, girlfriend.”

You scoffed. As if that was the issue!

“James, I am not going to date someone just to leave them so you can get with Lily.” You crossed your arms over yourself now, and James groaned. “Come on, please? I mean, you can tell them it's fake! I mean, I'm sure even Sirius would be willing-”

“Nope.” Sirius popped his lips and you looked up at him with a startled surprise. You couldn't help but melt at how he winked at you, nudging your ankles with his feet. “I'm not going to tarnish our little dragon’s reputation, here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as James’s groans faded out. You looked up as a bell began to ring, signaling it was time to come inside for dinner. James got up and hurried out of the tree, Sirius was next, sending you a look as he climbed down, curious. You simply smiled at him and followed after, knowing it would reassure him.

You thought James had dropped it, but as you set the table and gathered drinks for everyone, the boys at the table began to idly talk.

“Anything interesting happened today?” Fleamont asked you as you set his coffee down by his hand, kissing his eyebrow, making him chuckle.

“No, Uncle Flea.” You hummed and set down Euphemia’s tea and did the same. She returned the kiss, leaving you unaware of how James seemed to be eyeing you. You set down Sirius’s drink and he poked his cheek, leaning closer to you. You kissed your hand and smacked him. He laughed and you finished up, taking your seat across from the boys on your own side of the table.

“How about you, son?” Flea asked Sirius next, and Black shrugged. “Nothing really.”

“Really? You're not going to tell him?” James smirked and you looked at him curiously, confused. Sirius shared your look and James continued. “I mean, If you won't, I will.” He cheeked.

“James what are you-” Before you could even finish, he threw his hands up in an exaggerated announcement.

“Sirius and {Y/N} are dating!”

Your jaw went slack in shock and Sirius snapped his head over, dumbstruck.

“I- what- James Potter!” You shouted at him, he smirked at you. This cheeky little bastard. There was a loud thud from under the table as you kicked him. Hard. The poor boy winced and tried to keep his face straight.

“James you bloody-” Sirius started with a clench jaw before Euphemia gave a laugh.

“No need to be shy you two, however, James you shouldn't have told us before they were ready.” She scolded and Fleamont gave a chuckle and clapped Sirius on his shoulder.

“Just be safe, boy. Mr. {L/N} and I are not ready to be grandpas.” He cheeked and you slowly sunk into your seat and covered your face, groaning low as Sirius began to stammer over himself, not sure if he should explain himself or not.

James was so dead.

~~~

You paced in your room, hands over your mouth in deep thought. James was cleaning the kitchen and Sirius was closing down the house, their respective chores of the night. You sat on your bed and tried to figure a way out of this, before someone knocked on your door.

You looked up and waved your wand to open the door, Sirius walking in holding James by his ear. The taller boy was cursing and following close behind. “Ow ow ow ow-”

“James Fleamont Potter!” You whisper hissed and stood up, Sirius smirking, for once, not the one in trouble.

“Hear me out-”

“No! We will do no such thing!” You continued to whisper-shout at him. “You need to tell them you were lying!”

James bit his cheek and looked at Sirius who was avoiding his eyes. “It's just a few months-”

“James-”

“Hear me out! Just, just three months! You saw how excited they got.” James pleaded and you sighed. Covering your face before you peaked between your fingers at Sirius who gave you a playfully scandalized look.

“Am I the only one with common sense here?” Sirius scoffed and you groaned.

“It would seem so. Frightening, innit?”

“Debilitating, actually.” He sighed playfully and you laughed.

There was a long pause between you and Sirius. James watched as you two seemed to be communicating between your eyes. James slowly pouted as he was, once again, left out of the loop.

“Fine.” You sighed and Sirius bit his lip. “Alright, three months.”

~~~

You were not ready for the whirlwind that was sixth year. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time.

You had forgotten about the ever growing issue of telling Regulus Black of your new found status with his brother. To your complete shock, he seemed happy about the news.

“Bloody finally.”

“The hell do you mean finally?”

“If I had to go one more school year watching my brother make eyes at you, I'd vomit. Just keep it behind closed doors please.”

Eyes? Your friends were going mad. Pandora seemed to actually express visual joy when you told her, smiling with a hand over her heart, with a simple. “That's lovely.”

Barty, Sirius’s self proclaimed nemesis, even seemed relieved. Though, he had to admit, he didn't figure you for someone who wanted to be with a player.

The only one who seemed to take the news hard was Severus, reminding you of the prank and how that bastard tried to kill him. You listened to his concerns, but in truth, you knew Sirius wasn't the only one at fault. You had, in fifth year, confronted Sirius about what had happened and he admitted his fault in it.

You knew it wasn't for you to forgive, but if you couldn't forgive him, what place did you have being crossed about it?

Eventually, Severus, Avery, and Mulicber wanted nothing to do with you. As Severus hurt, you had to admit, he was camaraderie found in misery. You refused to be miserable anymore.

Remus was the first to notice it, how much you had grown and who you had left behind. He also seemed to be you and Sirius’s biggest fan, and unexplainably protective of your relationship.

Before you knew it, you were sitting at the Gryffindor table every day, nuzzled under Sirius’s arm and watching him as he rattled on about Quidditch practice and the start of the season. You didn't really care about the game, you only used to watch to support Regulus as a seeker, which seemed to please James as well.

“Do you have a spare jersey?” You pressed your pinky to his side gently, muttering into his shoulder. Sirius looked down at you, a bit startled by your comment. He narrowed his eyes at you curiously and you pressed your tongue to your cheek. Watching as his expression shifted a bit and his cheeks turned a soft red.

“A jersey?” He pushed, trying not to get his hopes up. You gave a laugh at his nervous question.

“All I have are Slytherin colors.” You mused and slipped your arm around his back and nuzzled into his chest a bit. Regulus giving a playful gag, poking his finger to the back of his throat at your public displays of affections.

You giggled before James spoke up, he had been so quiet you didn't even notice him. “You can wear mine, I have an old Seeker one from before I was captain.” He hummed and Sirius stiffened against you a bit. You watched his jaw clench, and his attention was finally torn from you, playfully glaring at James.

“James-”

“Thanks Jamie.” You mused and Sirius snapped his attention back to you, just for you to be smiling up at him. “But I want to wear my boyfriend's name.”

Sirius swore he lost the air in his lungs. Remus whistled and you laughed at the out of character display.

“You're so fucking whipped-” Regulus huffed with a roll of his eyes and before you could turn to reprimand him, Sirius wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you practically on his lap. “Better be, just f’me.” He mumbled against your ear. No one else could hear him, you wondered why he even said it.

Regardless, you didn't think your heart could beat that fast for anyone but James.

~~~

Three months passed faster then you thought it possibly could. The cautious and careful moments between you and Sirius turned familiar and confident. From your new routine between classes to show everyone just how in love you surely were to the private moments you weren't positive you should be having with the best friend of the boy you loved.

Reality was slowly blending together with your facade, from him sneaking off with you to the astronomy tower, and your walks along the Black lake when no one could see you two.

Even now, where you laid in his bed, alone. Remus doing his Prefect duties and James’ surely wowing Lily. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, reading to Sirius as he hummed and dozed off. You propped the book against his arm that wrapped around your middle, your other hand tangled in his hair. He seemed to be in just a blissful state, absolutely unraveled as your nails ran over his scalp.

You trailed off, just admiring the sleepy boy. Slowly leaning closer to see if he had fallen asleep yet.

You were spending time with the boys in their common room. Sirius had complained about his horrid sleep schedule, and when you, ever the good girlfriend, suggested you read to him. He laughed at first. When you puffed up your cheeks and told him it always worked for James, suddenly his tune changed.

He practically dragged you up to their shared dorm and left Peter and James behind, snuggling up to you, like he said a proper boyfriend would. Your heart was going mad at first. You hadn't been in their dorm, let alone in Sirius’s bed before. He acted so natural about it, you tried to stifle the green monster that seemed to have switched targets from Lily to Sirius’s past flings.

You don't know when it changed, but looking down at Sirius’s peaceful face, how he seemed so comfortable with you in his arms and pressed against your body, you knew you had ruined your chances at a normal love life. Falling in love with Sirius Black was the worst idea you never had.

Suddenly, Sirius stirred, eyes opening, sagged and low, clearly still tired. Your eyes locked, and this warm feeling filled you as he slowly smiled at you. You didn't even feel nervous, just.. just peaceful.

“Is the book done?” He muttered and you slowly nodded. His eyes never leaving yours. There was a bit of quiet before he began to speak. “Dragon-”

Then the door slammed open. “Don't be naked!” James huffed, covering his eyes. You have a nervous laugh as your cheeks flushed, looking away. Sirius gave a low and annoyed groan. It was gravely and deep as he sat up. You did not need that stuck in your head right now.

“Damn it mate, I'm trying to sleep.” Sirius huffed and James seemed startled at your state. You were actually reading to him. When he heard ‘sleep’ his mind wandered to Sirius’s typical use for it. The idea of you sleeping with Sirius didn't get under his skin, but the idea of loosing a piece of you that was once his, did.

Instead, he walked in on you and him. Doing one of his favorite things. One of you and his favorite things. You were really reading to him. He slowly frowned as your fingers left Sirius’s hair. You pouted up at him, not even seeming to care James was there, just upset that your weighted blanket moved.

He didn't like that. Not at all.

Sirius shifted and his palm pressed down a bit too much weight on your thigh and you hiss. He quickly got off of you and muttered an apology.

“It's okay Siri.” You whispered and rubbed your skin. He took a deep breath. That bloody nickname.

“You know.” James cut in and you and Sirius looked over at him. “It's been three months.”

He gestured to the two of you and you looked back up at Sirius with nervous eyes. He seemed to try to study yours as well.

“I think that's long enough.” He challenged.

You slowly took a breath, Sirius seemed to be waiting on your word. “Well.. are you with Lily yet?” You questioned, looking over at the tan skinned boy and James gave you a scandalous look.

“I mean-”

“That was the deal, right?” Sirius asked and looked back at James, getting comfortable over you once more, nuzzling his head right against your stomach. You smiled down at him, not noticing the looks him and James shared. Not particularly friendly.

“You asked us, James.”

“I wouldn't say what he did was asking.” You mumbled and Sirius chuckled, looking back up at you and gesturing to the book. You glanced at a red faced James before carefully grabbing the book and opening it. You didn't care to watch James' betrayed expression. He had done this to himself.

~~~

“It's going to be so fun, Sirius!” Peter declared and James laughed, “Yeah, what's more important then charming the stairs to move when a Slytherin tries to talk on it?”

Remus smirked at Sirius who simply gave a fond smile and a sigh. “Sorry, I have business with my lovely dragon.”

Remus gave Sirius a proud smile and the tatted boy rubbed the back of his neck.

“What, are you two shagging?” Peter asked with a bored look and Remus smacked him.

“Thank you Moony, and no, I'll have you know. We haven't even kissed yet.” He huffed and James’s jaw went slack. Why would Sirius admit that?

Why in the bloody hell would I admit that? Sirius thought, mortified. He keeps forgetting this isn't a true relationship. It's been five months, Sirius wasn't known to wait longer than a week.

Peter was rubbing the back of his head with a huff and Remus gave Sirius a surprised look. Sirius looked anywhere but their faces.

“You two.. haven't kissed?” Remus pushed and Sirius shrugged. “Just.. I'm her first boyfriend, she is nervous. You know, all that stuff. She's sensitive.”

When he looked at the group he got a variety of different looks. Peter was shocked, James was confused, and Remus looked purely ecstatic.

“Seems Sirius found someone worth waiting for, hm?” Remus teased and Sirius flipped him off.

“I'm done talking to you lame-os anyway. She's waiting for me in the library.” He huffed and hurried off the opposite side of the hall, face red and absolutely humiliated. Even then, he couldn't think of anything but seeing you.

In the background, he could hear James shout. “To study!?”

~~~

You waited for Sirius in the library like you promised, thumbing threw a few of your school books and comparing you and Sirius’s grade cards. Since him and you began the charade, his grades had improved greatly. He seemed to start to care about studying. He, ever the flirt, would always say if he got to spend time with you, spending the day studying in the library wasn't entirely awful.

When Sirius showed up, you couldn't help how the most excited smile grew on your lips. You and Sirius were quietly enjoying each other's presence, but about an hour into your session you heard a voice call out to you. It was soft, soothing, and it sounded like honey.

“Can we join you?”

You looked up confused, staring into the green eyes of Lily Evans. You expected that familiar bitter twist of your chest to settle, but you didn't feel a negative emotion towards her. You looked beside her and there stood Mary Macdonald, Marlene Mckibbon, and Dorcus Meadows. You smiled at Dorcas and she nodded to you.

“Of course you can.” You gestured to the table, turning to Sirius for approval and he looked surprise by your answer. You smiled at him and shrugged, leaning a bit closer and whispered, “It'll help, yeah?”

“Help?” He mumbled back and you smirked against his cheek. Giving him a small kiss against it. “For Jamie, Siri.”

You pulled away and smiled at Lily as she turned to talk to you. Sirius was staring at you like you stole his voice, but he didn't want it back.

Pandora was right, when you got to know Lily, you did like her. Quite a lot.

By the end of the day, you and Lily were laughing with your arms linked, leaving the Library.

“Merlin, we should have talked ages ago!” She smiled bright at you and you laughed, nodding in agreement.

“Most definitely, when do you usually study?” You pushed and Dorcas muttered a goodbye, turning to leave without you and the redhead. Mary smirked at the scene and Marlene wrapped her arms around your neck.

“We are here too!” She complained and you laughed louder. You liked Marlene, but it seemed the bitter feeling that was once aimed at Lily was now on her. You really wish Pandora didn't tell you about her and Sirius having the longest standing relationship out of all of his past wix.

She was with Mary now, she didn't have any interest in Sirius. Merlin, please save you. Jealousy was your biggest weakness. Other then that, blending in with the girls was easy. They were so delightful.

Eventually, Sirius managed to pry you away from the three, leaving you reaching back for them and earning laughs from the girls. Sirius eventually lifted you up on his shoulder so you'd stop fighting him.

That distracted you.

Damn his beater toned arms.

You looked back at him from where he was holding you, making it to the stairs to the dungeons. You flinched a bit when you heard Dorcas curse. You looked back and saw her, stuck in the middle of the stairs, trying to walk down as the stairs moved against her downward steps up.

You gawked at it and nudged Sirius’s shoulder. “Someone is after you boy’s title.” You teased and Sirius shook his head.

“It was the boys.” He remarked and hoisted you up properly, watching as Dorcas managed to fight her way to the bottom. Holding her knees with an aggregated pant. You laughed and tried not to get too in your head about what he said and the conclusion you came to. He spent the day with you instead of pranking with the boys.

“How will we get down?” You asked and he smirked. “It just works with Slytherins.” He cheeked and suddenly began hurrying down the stairs. You yelped and clung to his back. He laughed and fixed his grip on your thighs to keep you over his shoulder. You huffed as you got to the bottom, only for Dorcas to tutt at you.

“You're huffing!?”

You laughed and he set you down. Dorcas waved you off and you tried to cover your smiling face.

You watched Dorcas enter the dorms, you followed after her before you paused and turned to face Sirius, who was watching you with his hands in his pockets. Trying not to seem winded.

“Hey, Siri.” You called him over and he tilted his head. Walking over to you, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down a bit.

His hands snaked around your hips and he went to hold his breath. You smiled at him and he seemed startled and waiting not so patiently for your next move. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, and your eyes were locked in his lips. This was okay right? This is what partners do?

“Sirius, can I-”

Before you could even properly ask, Regulus rudely interrupted.

“Alright you, stop sucking my brother's face.” Regulus’s voice rang from behind you and you refused to budge. Sirius smirked and moved in, before Regulus yanked you back by your hood. The door closing behind you. He could faintly hear your sounds of disapproval.

Sirius stared at the door for far longer than he should have. Thinning his lips as he tried to remind himself. This was fake. And you loved James.

~~~

Eight months. Late April, and you were sitting in the Gryffindor stands watching the final game of the year. Well, if you could call trying to locate colors on the foggy backdrop with blistering rain watching.

You sat with Lily, Mary, Remus and Peter. It was foggy, drizzling, and the match lasted hours. You were wrapped up in one of Sirius’s leather jackets, it didn't do much to cut through the chill.

You didn't want to lie and say you understood what was happening, just that James and Regulus had yet to catch the snitch. Occasionally, the stands would cheer and you would throw your hands up in support of it all. Watching as Lily laughed at you.

“Sweetness, you look lost.” Lily sang to you, and you bite your bottom lip. “That obvious?”

“Only to everyone.” She laughed and put her hand on your arm, pulling you up. You both walked over to the railing and she put her hand above her brow and looked around. You looked at her movements, before copying her body language.

“There!” She cheeked and pointed out a billowing red cape, hardly making out James' name. You smiled and leaned closer. “Is that Jamie?”

“It … is.” Lily muttered softly and looked at you from the corner of her eye, as if looking for any sign of affection for the boy. Beyond platonic. To her pleasant surprise, your next words made her smile.

“Do you see Siri?” You asked, leaning closer so she could hear you above the cheering fans and the loud beating rain.

Lily lit up, laughing, gesturing over towards one of the goals. You narrowed your eyes and began to hit your heel against the wooden floor. The smile that unfolded onto your cheeks was far brighter then she'd ever seen you look at James.

Lily saw it, the shift in your eyes.

She wasn't the first one to see it, but she wouldn't be the last.

“Oh! Oh! They found it!” Lily exclaimed and you snapped your attention over to where Lily pointed. You looked down and your eyes widened, watching as James and Regulus raced for the snitch.

“Regulus!” You screamed.

“James!” Lily cheered.

Your eyes snapped to each other and you both began to laugh. You loved James, but come on, Slytherin could use this.

You both looked back and began to cheer and chant their names. Lily screamed out in delight as James caught the snitch, and you leaned over the railing with an exaggerated, “Booo!!” James noticed and you quickly covered your mouth.

Remus bellowed a laugh at James’s offended but playful look.

“Gryffindor wins!! I think.” The announcer screamed over the intercom. You laughed and turned to look at Lily who was already running down the stairs.

You scrambled with a bit of a slip as you hurried after her to the pitch. The red head was far faster than you, however. Remus just strolled back with Mary, who was rambling about how cool her girlfriend looked. You just missed her talking about how tone her girlfriends arms were-

It's the beaters charm, really.

When you made it to the pitch you watched James land, Lily practically tackling him off his broom. The boy wrapped his arms around her and spun her around. The team cheering and screaming in delight, the stands going mad with confetti. He looked up to you and let go of Lily, turning to face you as he brandished the snitch.

You lit up to match his smile, but before you could make it over to congratulate him, you saw Sirius land threw the crowd. You felt your entire body grow gittery, from your tightening toes to your squaring shoulders. He tossed the bat to the ground and ruffled his wet hair. He looked breathtaking. You watched as he threw his arm around Marlene, the two laughing and flexing a bit at each other. You narrowed your eyebrows a bit.

That was enough for you to take a few large steps forward. “Sirius!” You called over.

First things first, you were not jealous. You certainly weren't jealous, not of Marlene, she loved Mary. But you would be happy if he wasn't touching her- or if she just took two huge steps back. You wouldn't be upset about that.

Sirius looked over to you and his smile grew brighter, letting go of Marlene. Good. He began hurrying over to meet you. Eventually, you broke into a jog and he matched your pace. James watched in confusion as you threw yourself into his arms as your excitement grew. You laugh as he lifts you up and spun you around. You looked down at him with a bright smile, blocking out the rain from falling on his chiseled face. Your hands moved to his cheeks and he opened his eyes slowly. He paused in the center of the court and you bite your bottom lip. He wanted terribly to pull it between his own teeth.

“You won.” You whispered and his hands slipped higher up your sides. The intimate moment so public his hands felt like fire on your cold wet skin.

“I did.” He whispered and you leaned your body against his. He kept you up easily despite his throbbing muscles. You leaned your lips right above his, eyes locked in a trance. “Do I.. do I get a reward?” He whispered and glanced down at your lips.

You laughed, leaning down and completed the kiss. Holding him firm against yourself, he met you with pure hunger. Slowly setting you down, without breaking the kiss. You moved closer against him, your bodies meeting without an inch between your limbs.

This is okay, right? You thought blissfully. This was for James.

You both were lost to the world. Ignoring anyone else as Sirius began to grab at you with so much intensity you gasped. He took the opportunity to introduce your tongues.

You didn't notice as James gave a pained expression. He wasn't sure why you going to Sirius bothered him so much.

No, he knew why. He felt like he was losing you. Like everything that made James special to you was being replaced with Sirius. It was his own bloody fault.

Lily noticed his wandering eyes and her lip twitched. Resolving herself to take his cheeks and turn him to look at her. He slowly smiled and leaned down to take a kiss. She met him with a happy hum.

The moment went from bitter jealousy to melting joy. This was your favorite game yet.

“Am I just chopped liver!?” Regulus finally exclaimed, the only thing pulling your attention from your lip lock. You threw your head back with a laugh, and Sirius just stared with a love sick smile, kiss bruised lips, and in absolute joy.

~~~

By the time summer came around you were around the Potters more and more.

You stopped spending the night so much, the older you got the more Euphemia seemed to believe you and Sirius were being closer then close most nights. Making teasing remarks that killed you. Eventually, you stopped coming over when Sirius joined in on the teasing.

Your father and you were invited over tonight, however. You didn't want to introduce your father to Sirius, the man had a bigger heart then most, and you knew it would hurt him to meet your ‘first love’ just to lose him months later. You didn't think this would last so long.

So when the door opened and Flea welcomed you in, you were shocked to see Sirius on the couch, hair combed, clothing presentable, even hiding some of his newer tattoos he got over your time in muggle London. He smiled over at you and your father, standing up and walking over.

You were stunned by just how charming he was trying to be. Your father looked surprised, looking to you in confusion, as if he had expected someone else tonight.

“Sirius Black then? I know of your family.” He remarked and Sirius faltered a bit. You walked over to link your arm with his. He looked to you and smiled soft, hesitantly. Your father seemed completely pleased.

As the night went on you guys moved to the parlor room. You were ecstatic to learn Lily was coming as well, and when she got there, the night turned much more lively.

You were laying your legs across Sirius lap and laughing at your father and Flea’s ever heated debate about his most recent business decisions. Lily was listening intently, happy to learn more about the inner workings of the wizarding world. James was sitting on the floor with his head in her lap and her fingers tangled in his locks.

Sirius put a hand on your chin and turned you over to look into his eyes. You gave him a smile and nudged his arm with your knee. You leaned your chin greedily into his hand, wanting the full contact of his palm. When he gave it to you, you leaned your cheek into it. He stared at you and you pressed your lips together. “Sirius?”

“Yeah?” He whispered.

“What's this?” You whispered and slowly wrapped your hand around his wrist and turned to kiss his hand. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes. He about died.

“Awe, young love.” Euphemia cooed and you were startled back to the moment, pulling from Sirius who quickly fixed himself to look at the three parents, James effectively out of the conversation without a care.

Lily laughed and Flea reached over to pat Sirius’s shoulder. “What did I always say, {Y/N}?”

“Hm? What's that Flea?” You hummed and looked back at the men and Euphemia, he chuckled.

“Every Potter has a Slytherin.” He cheeked and winked at Sirius whose face turned to one of pure shock. You lit up at him and back to Sirius, who was smiling like a fool. You mirror his look and then Mrs. Potter spoke up next.

“I'm so glad you two figured it out.” She hummed..

“What was that?” You mumbled and looked back at her in pure confusion.

“Oh, that boy has been making heart eyes at you since he first got here. I could tell he was smitten.” Mrs. Potter mused a matter of factly, looking over at Sirius just past your confused expression, who was making a lip zipping motion, she gave him an amused and curious look, which made you turn and smirk at him. He quickly tried to play it off, earning a laugh from the group.

James rolled his eyes at their interaction, and Lily pouted a bit. Still confused as to why he seemed so determined to dislike the two together.

“You know, it's been a few months since me and Lily got together.” He remarked to the room, eyes on you and Sirius. You frowned a bit and looked away, Sirius met his look with a challenging one of his own. Euphemia narrowed her eyes but the men seemed none the wiser.

“And how lovely Lily is.” Fleamont mused and gestured to her, she smiled at him, happy with how they seemed to accept her so easily.

The night went smoothly from there.

Eventually, it was time to head home. The Potters, Evans, and Black walked you both to the door. You said your goodbyes, but whenever you would glance at Sirius he seemed preoccupied with your lips.

It wasn't something you thought you'd ever find attractive, how desperately Sirius wanted to kiss you at any given moment. Here you were, however, absolutely melting.

You leaned up on your toes and gave him a quick peck. Your dad smiled at this, but before you could turn away Sirius wrapped his arms around you and stole another longer kiss. If only by seconds. You laughed into his lips and he smiled against yours. Muttering a goodbye before you and your father finally apparated away.

You didn't think tonight could get much better, but when you looked up at the stairs to your manor, you locked eyes with familiar bright grey ones. Regulus Black, with a suitcase and a bruised cheek, giving you a cautious stare. Like a stray cat, ready to bolt, but instead of attention it was the first sign of rejection.

Regulus Black was a proud boy, like his brother. He was far too determined to do something and everything by himself.

Your father looked confused, before he glanced at you, like he was seeing double in one night.

You hurried up the stairs, not answering your father immediately as you moved to grab his bag. To your absolute shock, Regulus fell into you before you could, hands clenching your sleeves. You were bewildered, Regulus never wanted to be touched.

You didn't have to think twice before you wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him in close. The younger boy crying softly into your shoulder. Tonight was a startling night for firsts with the Black children, but you didn't hesitate to embrace it.

Your father picked up his luggage and muttered something about fixing up a room for him as he went inside. You were content to comfort Reggie.

~~~

Once Regulus was comfortable in the spare room, you talked. He told you everything about what had happened the past month, and your heart broke. Regulus and you were closer than most, but he still kept cards to his chest. He was paranoid, but in his weakness, he showed you all of them.

He told you what they expected of him, at just fifteen they told him he would be expected to go through with what his brother could not. How when he expressed even the slightest hesitance, they resulted in reprimanding him like Sirius.

He told you how he missed his brother, how he hated being alone in that house. He left the second his mother went to Paris on business, trying to get him a deal with a pureblood overseas.

He promised he would only be there for a few nights at most. His expression was blank but his voice was soaked in sullen misery, sitting beside you on the bed and staring at the wall.

“Where will you go, Regulus?” You reached for his hand and he didn't pull away.

“I'll figure it out.” He mumbled and you gave an offended laugh.

“You're mad if you think I'll let you leave with no plan.” You scoffed. “Regulus, you're safe here.”

“I'm a burden here.” He snapped back, eyes flicking to yours. They were full of pain you were familiar with. Your lips parted and you tried to read his expression, before something sparked in your mind. Burden?

“Regulus, you could never be a burden to me. To us.” You whispered and he sniffled. The shock that went through your body wasn't foreign.

“Reggie…” You paused and tilted your head to try to get him to express what was under all of this. You knew he was prideful and independent, but this didn't seem in character. Not for you two.

A guilt filled you as he refused to meet your eyes. Your eyes widened. Was he.. was he angry with you? “Reggie-”

“Listen. I don't want to get between you and my brother. I'm glad you love him. I'm glad he has someone to love. Just wish you stayed my friend too.” He scoffed and sniffled, the tension in your body fell away. You slowly covered your mouth.

He was right.

You had been spending every waking moment with Sirius since school began again. Pandora had Dorcas, Barty had Evans, Severus had his horrid friends. Regulus didn't have anyone. He would come to the Gryffindor table to spend meals with you, but after, before, Merlin, even during, you were focused on his brother.

The one thing he had with you, Quidditch, and you ran to his brother when he won. Didn't even check on him for his loss. You thought his words were playful that day but truly? You were cruel.

You had abandoned him. To his family, to his self doubt, you left him alone.

You had done what James had done to you.

“Oh Reggie.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He leaned his head against your shoulder but didn't hug back.

That night was filled with heart filled apologies, promises of a better tomorrow, and a guarantee Regulus had a home with you and your father.

It made you wonder, how you felt so guilty and ruined over the simple idea of what you had done to Regulus. Even his forgiveness didn't seem to be enough. James didn't seem the least bit apologetic in his words to you. Not as much as you thought he should.

Eventually, you let him sleep. You lettered Sirius, with Regulus’s permission, of his status.

You woke up early the next morning to your father calling you downstairs. Watching the Black brothers embrace healed something in you that you didn't know needed. Sirius looked so happy, and you watched Regulus grow flustered at his brother's affection. Laughing out as Regulus eventually pushed his sappy brother away and declared he was going back to his room.

You both shared a look as he disappeared.

The summer was the best yet.

~~~

Once school began, James and you had your last separation.

You came to him, voicing your thoughts about his cruelty towards you. He was confused as to where this came from, considering you had forgiven him. You had to remind him, you never did. You stayed at his house for Sirius that summer, he never apologized.

He had changed a lot, he kept true to his promise to better himself for Lily. You were proud of him, but it still hurt. Like a wound that continued to reopen whenever you were reminded that he didn't seem to truly care about what he had done to you. Just wanted to bury it. There was that nagging voice, telling you to just forgive him. Forgive and forget about it.

Then, would you accept that treatment for Regulus? It took seeing it through his eyes to understand you deserved more than an eight year olds apology. But that's what you got.

“Look, I get it. I really am sorry. Forgive me?”

“No.”

“... no? What, {Y/N}, come on. It's been two years now-”

“And I've tried. I have tried so hard, James. But as I've seen it.. I've fought to keep you in my life. You have never done that for me.”

“Fought for you? This isn't some book-”

“That's all I need, James. Just show me better.”

The argument that ensued was short and to the point. Nothing was resolved, so you left it that way. You wouldn't put forward the effort to keep a sense of normalcy despite the pain.

You were content with who you had, you would learn to get over the people you lost.

Your hand was off the wheel. You were done chasing after James Potter. You knew your father would be proud of you. You knew Sirius was proud of you, Regulus too. You never felt so at peace with the people you chose. Not because you never knew any better, but because they wanted you just as badly as you wanted them.

You and Sirius’s relationship was still dancing the line. You both knew that if this truly was just for James benifit it would have been over by now. You both were content as it was. Nothing said, nothing lost.

You both continued to blur the lines between you both, until the first win of the Quidditch season. It didn't take much convincing for him to lock Peter out of their dorm, leaving just you both to do what two young adults would. Something you both agreed was long overdue.

~~~

James had spent his night much the same way, waking up with Lily.

James was happy with Lily, she was everything he ever wanted. There was still something, however, eating him alive inside. He missed you. He didn't know how to handle his part in your departure, still unable to hold himself accountable for the pain he caused you all those years ago. Because you were kids! Practically siblings. Why did he have to prove he cared?

He pushed the thoughts away as Lily woke beside him. Giving him her breathtaking smile, something that James couldn't help but smile back at.

“Morning.” She sang so sweetly, leaning in to steal and lazy and long kiss. They both smiled into it, content at the moment.

James gave a laugh as Lily rolled onto his lap. Biting her lip as she grabbed the top of the bed frame. “Jamie~” She sang and he looked her up and down, giving a low groan as he snapped forward to kiss her, and like the tease she was, she rolled back over onto her back off his lap.

Neither of them had time to process what happened next, she hit her shoulder on his dresser and hissed. Leaning forward to cover her arm. He moved to rub her skin before he heard the sound of something hitting the floor.

He narrowed his eyes and looked over Lily, his face filling with dread.

Grandos. The dragon statue your father had carved all those years ago, shattered on the ground.

He shot up from the bed, just as Lily looked over. “Jamie?” She whispered and he hurried to get dressed, panicked. Taking out a towel and setting the statue on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Jamie, oh- Oh James I am so sorry-” She began and tried to sit up, he took a deep breath and shot to his feet.

He was crying. Why was he crying?

He was coming to terms with the fact that you would never speak with him again, the figurine didn't mean the end of the world. But it was his last piece of you.

The last thing he didn't share with Sirius. With Regulus. With Remus, with Lily. The last thing that meant you and James would have a connection beyond the silly fights and petty disagreements. The last thing from when you were James. His heart was breaking. “I- She can fix it, right? Do you think she can?” James pleaded to no one.

Lily's heart broke. She could tell immediately what this was about. “James-”

“I-I’ll be back.” He declared quickly and put on his cloak.

It didn't take long for him to make it to the Gryffindor common room, holding the broken figurine like it was a wounded bird. You looked up from your perch on Sirius’s lap, the black haired boy huffing when he lost your attention.

“{Y/N}!” He shouted and hurried over. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, and he shoved the broken pieces towards you. As always, expecting you to mend it.

“James?”

“Please I- I don't know how to fix it. I can't loose it, please.” He begged and your looked to Sirius who seemed just as bewildered. There was a thick silence, as Remus bit his cheek.

It was so painfully clear to everyone but James what this was about.

You sighed through your nose and thought for a moment. Slowly, taking out your wand and waving if. “Repairo.”

Like that, the carving was as good as new. All perfect with its chipped paint and jagged edges. James seemed stunned as he looked down at the polished toy.

You slowly folded your arms. “James?” You whispered.

He hung his head low in shame.

“James.” You called in a more steady voice. He nodded to show he was listening. You scoffed.

“That's the last time, James. I'm not fixing anything for you anymore.”

“I-”

“No. That's it.” You put your hands up and James gave a breathy scoff of his own. Gesturing to you and Sirius, the boys lips thinning.

“Why?” He whispered in a broken hearted whimper. “Why does this fake relationship matter more to you then ours?”

You stared at him with wide and furious eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me, James?”

“Dragon-” Sirius tried to call out to you and you scoffed, waving him off.

“James, I have spent my whole life cleaning up the mess you made of me!” You yelled at the suddenly sheepish boy. “I am prioritizing myself! For once! If you want me in your life, then prioritize me too! I am doing the same for my boyfriend.”

He scoffed. “He isn't even your serious boyfriend! You dated him for me!”

You took a deep breath and before you could say something, Sirius gave a cocky smirk. “We've been over this, yeah?” He snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you back, trying to defuse the situation. “Everyone I date is a Sirius-”

“Stop.” You huffed at him and covered his mouth. He put his hands up in surrender. “James, I think you knew this stopped being fake the moment we agreed to it.”

Sirius gave you the stupidest smile, before coughing into his palm and looked away as you glared at him. Not the time you adorable bloody idiot.

“I just… I thought-”

“James. Everything I did was for you. For 14 years. Forgive me if I'm over it.” You sighed and gestured to the figurine.

“Next time. Fix it yourself.”

[onmyyan]

So I'm imagining a bit of a silly concept, but imagine delivery driver!reader with yanderes Dick and Jason. Like they'll keep ordering from the place reader works in hopes that reader will show up (and she will - your boss got fed up with all the 1 star reviews when anyone other than you shows up) but they act like creeps trying to get you to join in on their movie night or whatever. They totally don't realize they're being creeps, though - this is their darling! They would never scare her! But like reader gets fed up with them "propositioning" her so she has her boss put them on the do not deliver list. The boys are surprised (they knew her boss was sending all those other drivers on purpose! 🙄), but it's nothing a call to Barbara can't fix (she wants to be an Auntie ASAP - platonic yan Barbara, perhaps?)

It starts with a simple delivery to Wayne Manor, one insignificant package set their sights on you, but could you blame them? That smile when you handed Dick the package, the pretty laugh you let out when Jason said something witty, it wasn't their fault you enamored them with a single meeting, and it didn't help when you delivered their second package, about a week after the first, and remember their names, the audacity to do such a thing and not expect them to fall in love.

Anytime someone other than you shows up they're met with the coldest glares, Dick is short with them, no banter no charm, Jason straight up doesn't speak to anyone that isn't you.

They don't start to get creepy until about week three, that's how long their resolve lasts before Dick is inviting you in for a drink, you must be hot in that uniform of yours, why don't you come inside? It's cool in the manor and he's sure your boss wouldn't miss you for a few minutes.

Jason, to his credit, really does try to be casual about his interest, of course it's anything but casual, he pretends to be working on his bike when you come to get his signature, purposely showing off as he takes his time signing, intense blue eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you sweat. He says a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to work so hard, that you should have someone to take care of you, you grit your teeth biting out a smile as you snatch the tablet back as soon as he finishes signing.

It isn't until your latest delivery do you put them on the do not deliver list, as usual they were together when you rang the doorbell, Dick smiles so brightly at you, you'd think you were delivering the stars in a neatly wrapped box. "Hey (y/n)!" He greets you like a long time friend instead of someone you'd only spoken to a handful of times, "You mind bringing that inside?" He asks the question and despite its oddity, you comply bringing the package inside.

Jason closes the door behind you, causing you to jump, when the hell did he get here?

"Good to see you bunny." He was always calling you pet names, far too intimate for your liking, he smirks before taking the box from your hands, his fingers purposely brushing against yours. "You're like a little messenger fairy."

You choose to ignore him, turning to Dick, you hold out the tablet for him to sign. "We'll get to that in a minute- why don't you sit down for a sec?" He sits on the couch patting the spot beside him. "I gotta get back to my route-"

"it's midnight, you guys stop delivering after midnight right?" Jason speaks up causing you to look at him, he looks way too satisfied with himself, catching you in a lie. Feeling trapped you sit on the couch reluctantly. "What's up?" You ask looking between the two, Jason remains standing his beefy arms crossed across his chest. God he made you uneasy.

"we've noticed how hard you've been working lately and since we're friends-" you don't hide the confusion on your face at the proclamation, "-We figured you could use a break." Dick spoke almost as if he was nervous. "Come on bunny, take a load off." Jason finally sat down sandwiching you between the two.

"or- and hear me out on this one, you sign for your package and I leave?" They share a look before Dick is almost sadly signing the tablet. "Well if you ever wanna just chill or something-"

You don't hesitate you leap off the couch and run out the door, heart slamming so hard in your chest you felt the rumble in your throat.

You thought you'd be done with them after putting their names on your company's do not deliver list, and for about a week you are, until they realize what's going on and collectively lose their minds.

Barbara couldn't stand seeing two of her closest friends so down, so unlike themselves, once they explain the situation to her she's quick to act, understanding their... particular intensity when it came to love, and clearly you'd stolen their hearts, she couldn't stand to see them so upset so she quickly devizes a plan to get you back where you belong.

All it takes is hacking into your company's files to find your route and schedule, it's like child's play to her to set up the meeting, she ordered a shit ton of stuff all for you unbeknownst to you of course, all items you'd need for your upcoming vacation, Bruce had a few private islands for situations just like this one, and it be the perfect place for Dick and Jason to break you in. By the time you left the little slice of paradise, you'd be a perfect little darling.

With a smile too pretty for her deeds, she presses confirm on the order and sends a text to the guys.

"Your Darling is approaching with your order."

[stark-ironman]

What about Hugh who is the one that's jealous when he sees reader and said friend being too close

Jealously

18+ No Minors

Warnings: jealousy, angst, yelling, fluff at the end.

"Hugh! Y/N! I'm so glad you could make it." Ryan exclaims as you both walk into his house. "We wouldn't miss this get together for the world, mate." Hugh says as he hugs him. "Blake is in the kitchen so Y/N, have fun while your husband and I have some guy time." Ryan shoos you away and you hear Hugh laughing.

Shaking your head, laughing, you start walking to the kitchen when you hear your name called out. "I haven't seen you in forever, Y/N! How have you been?" Mark asks as he hugs you. "I've been great. How about you?" You hug back, feeling his hands slide down your arms before moving them back down to his side. "Can't complain." He chuckles and you two start catching up on everything but you can tell something feels off while talking to him.

"So, are you seeing anybody? I haven't stayed up to date with who's with who." He nonchalantly asks. You lift your left hand up, smiling softly. "I'm actually married. Been married for almost 3 years now." You say, watching his face scrunch up in anger before quickly smiling at you. "That's great! Who are you married to?" Before you can answer, an arm slides around your waist and pulls you close.

"She's married to me, mate." Hugh says with a hint of a snarl. "Well it's nice to put a face with the man who stole Y/N's heart. I'm Mark." Mark holds his hand out and Hugh grabs it tightly. "I didn't steal her heart, she gave it to me but I'm Hugh." You wrap an arm around Hugh, trying to calm him down but the tension is so thick, you decide to end the conversation.

"You know what, Mark, we actually have to get going. Hugh and Ryan have to help Blake and I set up some tables. I'll catch you later." You say as you pull Hugh away. He grips your hand tightly and takes you to one of the bedrooms, locking it before looking at you.

"What the fuck was that?" His voice automatically raises and you can't help but cower a bit. "What are you talking about? It was nothing more than two friends catching up and talking." You tell him. "I was watching from across the room and could tell he wanted to fuck you. He was flirting with you the whole time." Hugh starts pacing, trying to calm himself when he notices your face.

"I didn't take it as that, Hugh. I promise." You say quietly. "I know you didn't, love. I'm sorry for being mad but the fact he was standing right there basically undressing you with his eyes really pissed me off. He seen us walk in together and I only know he did was because Ryan pulled me aside and told me that Mark kept asking when we was going to be here." He sits beside you, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

"You have no reason to get jealous, baby. I don't even look at other guys in that way because I know I have you to come home to. You've ruined me for every other man out there." You joke at the end, causing you both to laugh but there's a hint of seriousness in your statement.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I took my anger out on you instead of him and I shouldn't have done that. It won't happen again." He sincerely tells you, pulling you onto his lap. You kiss him softly, smiling against his lips.

"I sorta like seeing you jealous and pissed off." You smirk, his eyebrows raising in amusement. "Then I might have to do it more often." He licks his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"We should get back to the party. You know how Ryan gets." You softly mutter causing Hugh to sigh as he nods. "Let's go then, love." He stands up and leads you out of the room, keeping you close to him for the rest of the night.

[fandoms-writings]

Little Schemer

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5K (hehe)

Summary: Secrets got Bucky into trouble with you, but he'll never do it again, if you'll give him another chance. This is for the drabble request "choose me" & "let me hear you make that sound again" <3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, secrets were kept (no cheating, i promise), emotions, smut, p in v smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), spanking, slight bdsm, bordering overstimulation, some aftercare.

A/N: thank you so so much to @perdidosbucky-yyo for beta reading for me, i love youuuuuuu <3

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

Bucky knew he fucked up. He shouldn't have kept you in the dark like he did, but he was just enjoying having you to himself - that you didn't know who he was. You were a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken town and he just wanted it to stay that way for a little longer. 

He wasn't ashamed of himself, but people treated him differently when they knew. Much like when you learned who he was - what he is. 

As he pulled up to the bar's back door, turning his bike off, your face flashed in his mind. The tears, the anger, the shake of your head when he tried to reach out to you. He swore, just thinking about it made his heart break all over again. 

The door opened next to him and he turned to see Steve standing there with a confused look in his eyes. "You good?"

Bucky nodded and sighed, standing from the bike and pocketing the keys. "I'm fine." 

He shouldered past Steve, not wanting his brother to see the turmoil he knew he was wearing on his sleeve. 

He quickly spotted the table in the back of the rundown bar where the others were sitting, smiling amongst each other and chatting and laughing. He plastered on a grin, hoping it reached his eyes enough to be convincing as he approached the table. 

He just had to get through this little gathering and he could go home. Go home and wallow in his self-pity and sorrow. 

But as he came up to the edge of the table, a laugh from across the room had his blood freezing in his veins. It took all of his effort to keep from tripping over his own feet as he slowed to a stop. 

His friends at the table gave him concerned and confused looks as they watched him turn, peeking over his shoulder to the source of the laugh he hadn't heard in two weeks. 

His heart strained in his chest when he saw you. You were laughing at something the guy sitting next to you had said, the smile on your lips as beautiful as it always was. He saw the way your fingers fiddled with the fabric of the skirt you were wearing, the sage green satin already wrinkled under your hand. It was a nervous tick of yours, something you did when you were upset or anxious, or just not having a good time. 

Bucky fought the urge to go over to you, to get the guy away from you and get your hand to stop picking at your skirt. He was about to lose that fight with himself, insert himself into a situation that had nothing to do with him, when Natalia stepped up next to him, bumping his arm with her own. 

"You're being obvious James," Her voice was quiet as she spoke, "and by the way you're looking at her, I'm assuming she's the reason you've been so off lately." 

He pushed a heavy breath through his nose as he continued to watch you, your smile dimming. "What about it?" 

Nat stepped in front of him, pulling his attention from you and down to her red hair. "Make a decision." She softly demanded, reaching forward to pat his chest, right above his heart, "Make a good one." 

She stepped past him, walking back to the table. He heard her quiet voice tell the others to leave him be, that he'll either join in a minute, or he won't, and that was that. 

Bucky looked back at you, watching as you excused yourself from the conversation with the stranger and stood from your barstool. The man tried to caress the side of your arm, but you dodged out of his reach, quickly making your way to the other side where the bathrooms were. 

Bucky straightened his shoulders with a deep breath, intending to wait for you to return to try to speak with you, but when he noticed the man from the bar stand and follow your path, he started seeing red. 

His feet started moving before he could stop himself, refusing to believe that maybe you wanted this guy to follow you. That you were leading him to a more secluded area. Away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. He wouldn't believe it because he knew you, and he knew what that look on your face meant. 

He quickened his pace when he saw how close the stranger was getting and he could see the uncertainty, the anxiety, in your eyes as your unfocused gaze swept passed him to try a subtle look over your shoulder. 

Your eyes widened slightly when you spotted the guy trying to be nonchalant about following you, and your steps faltered. You were too slow in your reaction to turn back to your route and catch yourself, but Bucky was there, your sides freezing under his touch as he caught you. 

He tried to will the anger from his face as you gazed up at him, your eyes focusing on his before he leaned down. "I've got you, he won't touch you." 

You swallowed and took a shuddering breath, but you nodded to him, the tension beginning to ease from your muscles as you righted yourself, your hands reaching and landing on his arms. The warmth from your skin seeped through the long sleeves of Bucky's henley, shivers instantly threatening to crawl up his spine. 

"Where were you trying to go?" He asked, trying to keep the rage from his voice as he watched the man gain on you, "I'll walk you there." 

"The bathroom," Your small voice replied and he curtly nodded, but before he could guide you there, you spoke again, "I was going to hide there until I could sneak out without him seeing." 

A fist closed around his heart, "You're here by yourself?" At the nod of your head, Bucky's head started to spin as he thought of solutions for you. Frank might get mad at him for what he was about to suggest, but he'd handle him later. 

"I have somewhere better for you," He said, slowly guiding you away from the bar guy who was watching you two, "Will you trust me? Just this once." He knew it was a lot to ask, considering how he'd lied to you for months, but he knew that you remembered how he'd always put your first. Your happiness, your satisfaction, your safety. Nothing else mattered to him until you were taken care of and protected. 

Your chin dipped in a nod and Bucky immediately began cutting a path through the growing crowd, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the other side of the bar, quickly and thoroughly. 

It wasn't long before he came across the door he was looking for, and knocked before swinging it open. Inside was Frank's office, but luckily the man was out of town for the week, so no one would come knocking. 

Bucky ushered you inside before closing and locking the door, pulling the blinds shut so no one could peek inside the small office window. He kept the lights off, but the lights from the bar showed through the small cracks in the blinds, throwing light stripes of yellow through the room. 

Bucky looked through the blinds, watching the man from the bar as he looked around the space, looking for you, only to mutter to himself before going back to sit at the bar. 

"You can wait here as long as you need," Bucky softly said, turning in your direction, but not fully looking at you. 

"Won't Frank be mad?" You asked. You'd met him once when Bucky first started dating you. He'd paid Frank to not tell you about the club, and once Frank saw how far gone he was for you, he kept his part of the deal. 

"Let me worry about Frank," He assured you, "If you need anything, I'll let Wade know you're back here," He reached for the handle, "Lock it after I leave, alright?" 

"Wait." Bucky froze at the frenzied tone as you called for him, his hand on the door handle. The next words of yours were muttered on a low breath, and the sorrow dripping from them sent a crack through his chest. "Why won't you look at me?" 

"I... "He hung his head with a sigh and released the handle before turning towards you with his hands on his hips. "I didn't think you wanted me to see you. Or that you wanted to see me." 

Your soft footsteps padded closer as his gaze remained on the floor, the toes of your shoes coming into his vision. You'd worn those simple black flats you loved so much. They were your everyday shoes. There were no bows and no straps. The most unremarkable thing you owned and yet the sight of those shoes so close to his boots made his heart leap into his throat. 

"James," You called for him, your voice dragging soft fingers down his back, a shiver following in its wake. "Why would you think that?" 

"Because of what I did," He muttered, "What you saw me do."

He heard you heave a breath at the mention of the incident he'd been replaying in his head since you walked away. The blood coating his knuckles. The gasp that fell from your lips. The dread that had instantly flooded his chest at those wide eyes of yours as you backed away. 

You, running from him. 

"Will you please look at me?" The crack in your voice pushed him over the edge and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. It may have been dark in that office, but even on the blackest of nights, Bucky would know exactly where to look to find your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered. 

"No, no you don't apologize," His words were heavy on his tongue as he scrambled to understand why you were saying that. "I'm the one who scared you, and lied to you." 

"And I'm the one who ran off before you could explain yourself," Your fingers fidgeted in front of you like you were keeping yourself from reaching for him. "It's not like I didn't know." 

Bucky's whole world froze. "What do you mean?" 

You let out a weak scoff, "Come on, Bucky, it's not hard to connect the dots, I just had to want to connect them."

At the shock that must've been written all over his face, you let out a small sad laugh. 

"I mean, c'mon," You started, "I get asked out by this motorcycle guy, who everyone else in town seems to be scared of. He's the only one in town who doesn't wear one of those vests and is the only one who the club leaves alone." You took a step forward, reaching for his hand. He let you take it in your gentle hold, your fingers turning it over so his knuckles were on display. "He also shows up to my house with weird bruises and cuts on his hands that he has no believable explanation for." 

You looked up from his hand, not letting it fall between you. 

"I just wish he would've told me," You whispered, "If I had known, I wouldn't have gone looking for you that day. I would've seen your text saying you were busy, and left it at that." 

Finally, you let his hand go, taking your warmth with it and he tugged his lip between his teeth to fight the urge to reach out for you.

"And now, I feel like I have to choose between now you and past you. The you I know you are, and the you I thought I knew." 

He took a deep to steady himself, though it came out shakier than he wanted it to. 

"I'm so sorry," His voice strained in his throat, "I just didn't want you involved. I liked that you didn't know who I was. I just wanted to enjoy that while it lasted." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You asked, your arms wrapping around yourself. 

"I was," He may have been quick to answer, but he didn't want you thinking for even a second longer than you already had that he was going to keep you in the dark forever. "I promise, I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to scare you off." 

You were quiet for a moment, and he could see those gears turning in your head as you contemplated his words. 

"Please," He whispered, "I'll do anything. I'll do anything you ask if you choose me. The me you now know I am." 

You took him in for a second - the bags under his eyes, the weight dragging down his shoulders, the pained sorrow lining the edges of his face. "Tell me everything." 

"Everything?" He asked. 

"Everything. No more secrets. No more hidden skeletons." You dropped your arms and stepped toward him, "I want to know it all. And then, I'll decide." 

His stomach erupted in nervous butterflies, realizing this was it. This was his last shot. 

So he told you all of it.

How he ended up a part of the club in his early twenties. How you'd stumbled across a rare moment of him having to defend his club's integrity from another. How even though he has to do those things, he doesn't necessarily enjoy it - he's just good at it. 

Some parts had you laughing, pulling a smile from his lips at the joyous sound that seemed so out of place considering the situation. Others had you hastily wiping the tears from your eyes as you sniffled. 

He spilled his guts to you. He turned over every stone and shone a light in every dark corner of his heart. He laid it out before you, for you to examine and judge, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant you'd let him sit next to you like you were. 

You two were in that office for hours. The bar had hit its peak hour. The music outside the office had turned from quiet rock to bassy club as people filed in to dance. The lights had lost their old yellow and turned to blues, greens, purples, and pinks, flashing through the blinds.  

When he was done telling you his life story, from the moment he joined the club to you sitting across from him, you were silent, staring up at him on the leather couch. 

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the bass on the other side of the wall. "Thank you for telling me." 

He nodded, his chest aching in suspense as you continued to watch him. 

"Do you really love me?" You asked, "You said in your story about how when I ran off, you couldn't believe you fucked up the one relationship you'd ever cared about and lost the only girl you ever loved." 

Bucky's heart fell to the pit threatening to swallow him whole. He remembered saying those words, but he didn't think you'd heard them clearly enough because you hadn't acknowledged them. He hadn't meant to let them slip quite like they had, he wanted to tell you in a much more romantic way, but his mouth was moving faster than his brain. 

He dipped his chin in a nod, "I do." Your lips twitched up in the corners and that was all he needed to gain more confidence in his emotionally raw state. "I love you, and I've loved you from the moment I first heard you say my name back to me." 

You didn't say anything back, you just sat there with that small grin on your lips as you contemplated him. Everything that he was. Bucky didn't usually like being the center of attention, being examined. But with you, he'd remain under your eye for as long as you allowed. He did his best to ignore the race of his heart as he waited for a response, but your next move did nothing to help ease its fast pace. 

You slid over to him, gently raising your knee and setting it on the other side of him, straddling his thighs as your hands rested on the front of his cutte. He wanted to grab you, desperate to have his hands on you, to feel you again, but he didn't want to push you. So he fisted his hands at his sides as your fingers trailed up his neck and to his chin before resting on the sides of his neck. 

"I've missed you," You whispered, the smile falling from your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. "I want to choose you as you are now," You started, his heart racing at your words, "But you have to keep being honest with me. No more secrets." 

Your nose brushed against his as your eyes looked up from his lips and his breath caught in his throat. "No secrets. Ever," He whispered, the movement of his words brushing his lips every so gently against your own. "You have my word." 

"If you ever keep a secret like that from me again," You muttered, your words crystal clear as they engrained themselves into his heart, "There won't be another chance. Got it?" 

He nodded, "I understand." 

"Good," You remained close, your breath fanning against his lips as his hands itched to reach for you. "Are you going to touch me?" 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, imagining his hands touching you after the things you've seen him do was the hardest part. He didn't want to stain you with the bad side of him, the red on his hands. 

"Bucky?" Your voice brought him back, and he opened his eyes - when had he closed them? 

He wanted to voice what was racing through his mind, but he couldn't find the words and decided to save them for another day. Instead, he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper, "Can I touch you?" 

There was a certain understanding in your eyes as you nodded, "Of course you can." 

His hands found their way up to cup your face, the calluses of his fingers brushing against your soft cheeks. "Can I kiss you?" 

You let out a soft laugh as you nodded. That was all he needed before he closed that minuscule gap between your mouths, groaning when your hands tightened against the sides of his neck. 

Your lips danced to a familiar tune, but there were new notes now. Understanding and trust, however fragile and new. Longing and relief at starting fresh.

Your lips parted, allowing him to taste the subtle drink still on your tongue from hours ago. His hands slid down your shoulders and ribs, landing on your hips and pulling them against him. A whine vibrated through your chest into his mouth and the heat that filled his being was overwhelming as he rocked your hips with his hands. 

"I'm never losing you again," He said against your lips, "Never."

"I'll hold you to that," You breathed out, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. 

"You better." His hands squeezed your hips, pulling them down again against the hardness in his jeans. 

"I love you, James," His hands slowed as you pulled away. "I love you so much, and that's why I was here tonight." 

His brows pinched together. "What do you mean?" 

"I know you come here every Friday night," You said, "And I didn't want to talk over the phone, and I didn't want to lose my nerve and hang up before you could answer a call, so I came here hoping to see you tonight. And I'm glad I did." You smiled down at him, your hips still moving against his.

He shook his head in disbelief and shock as he loosed a huff of a laugh. One of his hands left your hip and reached up to stroke your cheek. "I love it when you scheme about me." 

You let out a shocked laugh, "I do not scheme!" Your laughter burst out as he grabbed you and flipped you around, hovering over you on the couch. 

"Alright alright, whatever you say," He muttered into the skin of your neck as he trailed his lips down its surface, inhaling the scent of you as he made his way to the bit of your breasts that showed when he pulled your shirt down, "Schemer." 

You opened your mouth to deny the nickname but you hadn't realized his hand trailing up the inside of your shirt, sneaking its way under your bra, his fingers gently pulling at your nipple. Whatever you were about to say broke off in a soft gasp, ending in a little whine that was like fuel to the heat driving Bucky's hand under your skirt. 

It trailed up the softness of your leg, tracing soft patterns as it climbed before landing over the damp cotton covering your center. He pulled the fabric to the side and groaned a soft 'fuck' at the slick that instantly coated his fingers before they slowly circled your clit. "I want to taste you," He said the words into the skin of your breast, "Will you let me taste you again?" 

"Please," You begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling at the roots, "please Bucky." 

He smiled into your skin as both of your hands worked to pull the fabric of your skirt up to your waist. Bucky wasted no time pulling your underwear to the side and languidly dragging his tongue up your slit, moaning as your taste flooded his mouth. 

"God I missed this," He wrapped his mouth around the entirety of you, his tongue working slowly as he savored the moment. He would never take another moment with you for granted again, he was going to take his time to brand everything into his mind. The way your eyes fluttered but tried to stay open to watch him. The feeling of your hands pulling on his hair when he slipped two fingers in, curling them against your walls. The breathiness in your voice as you begged him to let you fall over the edge of release. 

"Bucky please," You struggled to grind into his mouth when he pulled away again to watch your cunt greedily swallow his fingers. 

"Can I take you home?" He asked, looking up at you. 

You looked down at him, the exasperation in your eyes almost making him laugh. "Now?"

He nodded, "Yes," He curled his fingers again, a smile growing on his lips as your jaw dropped and let out another delicious sound, "I want to fuck you properly, not in this office." 

"What if I want you now?" You asked, your voice tight and he groaned at the confession. 

"I would fuck you, but I don't want Frank coming back and smelling you in here," He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, "That's only for me." 

A low whine filled his ears as you tugged your lip between your teeth and nodded, "Okay, but you're driving." 

He curled his fingers one more time, relishing in the gasp you sucked in before he removed his fingers from you, sticking them in his own mouth to suck them clean. The sight made you moan before you leaned forward and pulled his hand away so you could capture his mouth with yours, tasting his mouth as he blindly adjusted your underwear and skirt back to normal. 

You two left the office, locking it behind you and weaving your way through the crowd that had gathered in the bar. Bucky laughed as you began to dance behind him while he led the way. When you both got to your car, you tossed him your keys and he sent off a short message to Steve letting him know he was leaving his bike around back. Steve had the spare key and would take it to the club for him. 

Bucky couldn't remember a time he drove so fast as he drove to your place, especially when you were sitting in the passenger seat looking at him the way you were. Your hands trailing over his lap, gripping him through his jeans. 

Your hand had made it past his belt and zipper, sneaking under the waistband of his boxers to start stroking him as you trailed kisses down his neck when he pulled into your driveway. He hastily threw the car in park and turned it off before turning to you and pulling you in for a bruising kiss. 

He pulled your hand out from his jeans and pressed the keys into your fingers, "Get inside," He mumbled against your lips, "You have two minutes before I come in there and take what's mine. I don't care where you are." 

You whined, trying to kiss him again when he pinned you with a look and you shuddered, nodding. 

"Go," He whispered, chuckling to himself as you scrambled to get out of the car and raced up your front steps. He fixed himself back into his pants, not bothering to redo his belt, before getting out of the car. He wouldn't have cared, but he didn't want any of your neighbors calling the cops for his indecency. 

He made sure to grab anything you left in the car and lock it before slowly climbing the same stairs you ran up. You'd left the door open in your haste, and your house was quiet as he stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He undid his boots, refusing to drag anything on to your soft clean carpets. 

As Bucky climbed the stairs to your room, he pulled his belt off, loosely wrapping it in a loop as he approached your half open door, pausing at the sight before him. 

You were sitting against the headboard, naked with your fingers buried in your cunt. Your breathy sigh when you spotted him was his undoing and he grew achingly hard in his jeans. 

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" He struggled to make his voice stern as you flushed, quickly removing your fingers. 

"I just wanted to be ready for you," You whispered, "I don't want to wait anymore." 

He smirked, and approached the bed, setting the belt on the edge of the mattress before he started removing his own clothes. "Kneel right here," He gestured to the bit of mattress in front of him, "and face the other way." 

You nodded, and he could see you easily slipping into the submissive side of you that you only let him see. You moved to where he wanted you, and when he was done undressing, he grabbed the belt again. 

He leaned forward, placing his chin on your shoulder as his tone softened, "You remember your safe word right?" You nodded, mumbling the chosen word in confirmation and he smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, "Good. Are you okay with this? Or do you not want that tonight?" 

"I want it," You breathed, a shiver raking over your body as he kissed your neck. 

He nodded into your shoulder before pulling back, "Give me your hands." 

You instantly followed his instruction, putting your hands behind your back, and he looped his belt around your wrists, fastening them together. "Bend over, darlin," He ordered, pushing his hand on between your shoulder blades. He grabbed your shoulder to help you bend over before angling your hips higher, presenting you before him. 

His hands wrapped over your ass, squeezing and spreading them apart. 

"Fuck," He muttered, probing your entrance with a thumb, "You're dripping." You moaned into the comforter as he pushed a thumb in, "I can't wait to feel you around me again." 

You moaned his name again, begging him to fuck you, but he shook his head.

"Not yet," He pressed his thumb further in as he rubbed your cheek with his other hand, "You touched yourself without my permission." He heard your gasp as he pulled his hand back, "Good girls don't do that." 

The smack that rang through the air as his hand collided with your skin was drowned out by the loud moan that you voiced. He waited for you to remember the rules of this little game you played and it didn't take long for pride to swell in his chest as you angled your head out of the blanket. 

"One," You whined, trying to push back against his thumb that was still in your cunt. 

"There you go," He muttered, raising his hand, "Let me hear you make that sound again," and bringing it down again and again as you kept count, your moans turning to shrieks then wails as you reached five. 

He gently laid his hand on the red skin, rubbing away the sting as he praised you, leaning down and kissing the tender area before tugging your legs off the bed. He kneeled behind you, giving you only one warning, "Don't come until I say you can," before removing his thumb and replacing it with his tongue. 

"Oh fuck," You cried, "James!" Your legs shook as your toes tried to push against the ground to raise your hips. His hand pulled your legs apart, keeping your feet from touching the floor as he moaned into you, the vibration tearing another cry from your throat. 

He knew you wouldn't last long like this, but god he just couldn't get over you. He wanted to devour you whole and this was the closest he could get. 

When your cries turned incoherent and your legs started shaking, he removed his tongue, gently setting your legs down and standing behind you. He leaned over you, resting his cock between over your ass and he kissed down your spine, letting you calm for a moment before undoing the belt and helping you turn over. 

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, placing gentle kisses along the trails. "You did so good." You hummed, your lids heavy but your eyes alert as you watched him. He lifted your legs, pushing your knees to chest, "I think you deserve a reward," Your eyes lit up, "What do you think?" 

He chuckled at your frantic nod, "Please, James," you begged, "Please fuck me. I've missed you so much." 

His heart squeezed, "I know," He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in as your jaw dropped open, "I've missed you too." 

His own breathing became tight as your cunt gripped him, pulling him in, eager to be filled by him again. 

"Fuck, I love the way you feel around me," he ground out, slowly pulling out and pushing back in, setting a slow rhythm. "You're always so warm, so perfect." 

His hands moved your legs to the side, holding them open as he sped up, driving into you. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist, letting go so he could reach up and gently grab your neck. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tightening with his own, letting him know how tight to squeeze, making your eyes roll back as you gasped. 

"Oh fuck," You whined, forcing your eyes open to look at him. "Bucky please, I'm so close, so close, please." 

He opened his hand, wrapping it around the back of your neck and pulling you up. Your hands shot out to grip his shoulders as he placed his forehead against yours, his pace growing brutal. 

"Hold on," He told you, "Almost, almost." 

He felt the familiar tightening in himself as he watched you do your best to stave off your own release, waiting for him. 

"Oh, good girl," he panted, his brows pinching, "good fucking girl, just a little bit more. You're gonna come with me, yeah?" 

You nodded, words gone from your brain as your moans grew higher in pitch. 

"That's a good girl," He praised, the sensation growing stronger and stronger until he knew the edge was right there. "Come for me baby," He all but begged, "Come on my cock, soak it , come on." 

He rambled as you tightened around him, squeezing his cock until he was falling over that edge with you, pleasure blinding behind his eyes as they closed. "Fuck fuck fuck," He dropped your other leg, catching himself as he fell over you, his breathing short as every other thought vanished from his brain. 

All he could focus on was the feeling of you wrapped around him, your fingers in a death grip on his shoulders as your cries filled his ears. 

"There you go, there you go," He muttered into your neck as you came down from your high. "I love you so much, I love you." An airy laugh broke from your chest. 

"I love you," You whispered, pressing your lips against his shoulder. 

Once you both came down from your high, he cleaned you up before joining you in bed, wrapping you into his chest. He would never forget how he'd almost lost this - lost you. 

As you drifted to sleep against him, a smile on your lips, he vowed to himself and to the silence of the house that he'd never fuck it up again. Never again.

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

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[narcissistshandler]

Can you write a yandere Sae x male reader smut where reader is flirty with others and makes Sae jealous and bratty? So then reader fucks the brattiness out of him.

𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x sae itoshi

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 light yandere!sae, light violent thoughts (not between sae and the reader), brat!sae, amab!reader, dom!reader, sae calls the reader sir, public, fingering (sae receiving), spanking (sae receiving), some swearing and insults, jealous!reader&sae, voyuer, non-consensual voyeurism

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 nothing to say, just that this was supposed to be much, much shorter (I'll edit this later, so ignore any errors for now)

“'This is so high I can't reach it, can you help me?'” Sae's voice loaded with poisonous sarcasm filled the distance purposely placed between you two. His beautiful green eyes were darkened with a shadow that could alert anyone but you and his arms were crossed in front of his chest, confronting you, mocking you... demanding an explanation.

You held back a sigh as you reached out with one hand to grab Sae's arm and finally close the distance between you. Sae stepped back, avoiding the touch.

“She needed help and I helped, no big deal,” you explained for what felt like the twentieth time since it happened. Maybe it was.

“She was flirting with you,” Sae pressed, his anger an icy, sharp thing. “And you flirted back,” it was an accusation that if was intended to anger you, so it succeeded.

Your temple throbbed with the onset of a headache and you brought your hand back to press against the spot, genuinely trying to understand what part of your interaction with the unknown woman had been seen as 'flirting' by your boyfriend.

The poor woman, who looked barely younger than you, who was kind, gave you a toothy smile and who seemed to follow you down the supermarket aisles for a while before she worked up the courage to ask you for help, wasn't flirting with you by God. And you promptly helped her and then let her engage you in a suspiciously long conversation about how the woman was single and preparing a party to celebrate her new status, believing it would be too rude to cut her off.

Until the figure of Sae, who was completely ignored by the woman, despite standing right next to you, began to analyze the woman from top to bottom, in that way as if pondering how she would react if he put his hands around her neck or broke her fingers - fingers that she continued to touch your arm with - or how easy it would be to find out her address and then... That's when his eyes darkened and you finally ended that conversation.

It wasn't flirting, you thought. You were just being nice, trying to get to know the new neighborhood.

“Don't be childish, Sae,” you said, knowing it was the last thing that would make him calm down.

“Childish?” Sae repeated, his voice rising in tone, seeming not to remember that you two were standing in the middle of a supermarket aisle, or maybe he just didn't care. He wanted to embarrass you, you realized. “You shouldn't have even paid attention when she spoke to you!”

“That's not how the real world works.”

You continued, elbow resting against the shopping cart:

“I moved to the furthest house from the city that we found, don't think that just because I agreed now I'm also going to stop making friends or chatting around. You act like a spoiled child when he receives a new gift, just before breaking it.”

Sae's face turned to stone.

“I'd rather break you than let someone else have you,” he said, as if it were the most normal and passionate thing to admit.

This conversation wouldn't go anywhere, you knew, so instead of standing there and arguing with Sae, you sighed deeply and started pushing the cart. Even without turning back, you knew that Sae was following you, still keeping that pathetic distance between you. Sae's feelings towards you weren't normal, even though most of the time your relationship was as normal as any other. But you saw his darkness, you discovered that all the accidental encounters you had with him and all the familiarities between your and his tastes and hobbies had been faked and yet, you chose to stay.

“You can't just end the conversation at will,” Sae said, without even coming into your line of sight, still stuck on the previous topic. He was angry, so you should be angry too, that's how his reasoning worked. “You know I hate it when you turn your back on me.”

That's it. You snapped.

The cart slid on its wheels a few inches as you let go in favor of turning to face Sae. There, in his eyes, was defiance. And when your hand grabbed the back of his neck, nails digging into the skin beneath the curls of his hair, you saw something else stir there, fear.

“Shut your mouth up,” it was an order.

“What else would you do if I wasn't there? You already let her touch you and rub against you, what was the next step? Fuck her right there in the middle of the market while I was at home or participating in a match?” He stirred faced with the sudden order. Sae was like a wild animal, trying to shift your grip while making the accusation, testing your dominance, testing how far he could go, how hard he could bite you. “You're no better than a whore who can't keep the dick in the pants-”

The anger was heavy and immediate, falling like a stone into your stomach.

“Shut. Up.”

That shut Sae up, but you knew it wasn't enough, that in a few minutes, hours or even a few days later he would bring up the subject again. He needed to be put in his place.

With a firm hand grabbing the back of his head, your other hand fell to Sae's belt, but then, seeing the look of panic that filled his face, a thought crossed your mind and you pulled your hand away. Sae, however, didn't have time to relax before the order came:

“Unbutton your pants.”

“We are in public,” he said, the voice that had once been so loud and commanding now quiet. You both knew how famous Sae was and that even in this small town someone could recognize him. That would end his career.

“I gave you an order, didn't I?”

Sae's hands went down to his pants, the green eyes searching around the empty aisle as his trembling fingers released the button and lowered the zipper. Despite the fear and anxiety on his pretty face, it didn't take a command for him to fit his thumbs into the band of the pants and push them down, as well as his underwear. Obedience under the anxiety and embarrassment, the anger still there even when he asked please. Sae knew how to move his pieces, but you knew how to move him.

Standing in the middle of a supermarket aisle, with his lower body naked, his softening penis hanging between his long, slender legs, Sae was embarrassed. The same embarrassment he wanted to make you feel when he started an argument with you and told you all those poisonous and sharp things.

“[n-name],” he muttered, eyes still roaming around. “Let's go home... ple-please.”

You ignored his whining, that just sounded anxious, not genuine. “Turn around. The faster you comply the faster you can put your pants on and stop someone from seeing your naked ass.”

Sae looked once more for invading looks before obeying. He pressed his hands against the shelf in front of him, his small, round ass facing you.

Your hand fell to one of his pale cheeks. The sound of the slap echoed around. Sae seemed to bite back a grunt.

“I don't need to tell you how bad you were, do I? You know that.” A second slap, in the same place where the previous one had landed. “You chose to irritate me, you chose to insinuate that I would cheat on you with the first person who appear in front of me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. A hard and fast sequence of your hand connecting with his soft ass cheek. “Do you think I'm afraid of you?” you inquired, your tone full of mockery, treating Sae exactly as he was: a spoiled brat.

No response other than grunts and bitten moans came, the hyperawareness of being in public seeming for the first time to do the magic of preventing him from trying to answer you. Sae's slender body seemed to try to run away from the hits, pulling away from your hand, but he didn't get very far between your body and the supermarket shelf. The shirt pooled around his waist, the dark color contrasting with the pink that bloomed on Sae's pale ass.

Your hand rubbed the soft flesh, feeling the skin burn beneath yours. Your fingers dug into his ass, without care or gentleness. And when you squeezed harder, you could see the place between those round, firm cheeks glisten with moisture.

Your laughter sounded like bells under the noise of footsteps, wheels and movement of the supermarket. “Is that why you're all angry and upset and talking to me like that? Because you want to be fucked?”

Sae's ears burned. “Don't treat me like a-” He was interrupted by your index finger pressing against his soft, lubricated hole, previously prepared for you before left the house that afternoon.

“Like what? A whore?” You punctuated the mocking question with your finger plunging inside him hard. “You better lower your tone if you don't want anyone to see us.”

His hole was already relaxed, opening easily to the intrusion, the walls wet and tense just from the current situation. You pulled your finger back and pressed two in, stretching them inside him. Sae made a small whimpering sound in response, his pink cock now hard between his legs, dripping pre-cum onto his own pants, like the pathetic little thing he was.

Sae was muttering something under his breath, a jumble of words and phrases, among which you could make out a 'who do you think you are', but which shortly afterwards turned into a 's-sir... please' when your fingers curled inside him and rubbed against his prostate, eliciting a twitch in his cock.

Your own cock was hard between your legs, pulsing and demanding release, but you knew this wasn't the time or the place, it was pure luck that so far no one had walked in this aisle, and that there was no security camera nearby. Deep down you wished someone would see him, and recognize the famous player now being fingered in public like a cheap whore. And that selfish desire flared up when a small, shocked sound reached your ears.

A third finger sank inside Sae as you recognized the woman Sae accused of hitting on you standing right there at the entrance to the aisle, shocked eyes darting from you to Sae, still completely oblivious to the new spectator as he struggled to be silent while your fingers fucked him the way he loved: hard and deep.

“We have company,” you warned Sae. It took a whole few seconds for him to understand your words and move his face, trying to understand what you were talking about. As soon as his eyes met the woman's, his hole suddenly became tense and tight around your fingers.

“This little pig,” he muttered under his slightly panting breath. There was no shame in any inch of him though - shoulders still high, lips pursed, body still willing under your touch -, it was something different, it was pride. A phantom feeling of being better than most people, but especially better than that unknown woman who had tried to hit on you.

The woman didn't move, feet still on the floor, eyes going from Sae to you, then back to Sae. She seemed to be finally putting the pieces together, regretting offering you her phone number right in front of your boyfriend. But there was also desire beneath it all. She looked at Sae like most people did, as if she was mesmerized by his beauty.

Sae however was jealous and possessive and all he saw there was her wishing she was in his place; have your fingers inside her. “I-I want you to make me cum, sir,” Sae asked, sweet and obedient when faced with a 'rival' and dark and petty at the same time. “So she knows she can't have you. You are mine. You can only touch me this way.”

He was a spoiled brat. But his words made your dick get even harder and you pressed your hips against his ass so he could feel your hardness, to let him know that only he made you hard and hot like that. You thrust your fingers with recovered strength and speed into and out of him, eliciting the most beautiful moans and sighs from Sae's mouth, calling him 'mine', 'good boy' and 'pretty whore' while rubbing your digits against the sweet walls, attacking his prostate.

The display of passion and eroticism could have lasted minutes or hours, until Sae's legs contracted and his hole tightened, erratic hips rocking back against your fingers and when you pressed your pinky against the wet, supple rim, Sae came. Clear liquid splashed from the pink head of his cock, hitting his pants, which had fallen to his ankles, and the supermarket floor. The wetness of the lube covering his hole as if Sae had produced lube on his own, just for you.

Sae's eyes, however, were not on the spectator when he came and neither were yours. You only had eyes for Sae, especially when you saw him feeling pleasure. And Sae only had eyes for you.

Just as the tremors of orgasm shook Sae's legs, however, and his hole began to convulse around your fingers, you leaned in to place a kiss on the side of his neck, feeling the salt of his sweat and the bitter of the perfume - your eyes went briefly to the woman standing a little distance, who faced with reality blushed and ran away, but not before you saw wetness dripping from beneath her skirt.

“I think she had a little too much fun with our show,” you said to Sae, fingers moving in and out of him again with delicious slowness. “But she can't have you.”

“Ah- she can't have you too,” Sae said back, almost daring you to say otherwise, the wobbly legs forcing him to lean on the shelf.

Maybe that was why Sae never scared you, you were starting to understand. You were a lot like him in some ways. You rubbed his ass where the impact of the slaps had already softened from red to light pink to match his cute hole.

“No. She can not.”

[jarofstyles]

Oh ohhhhh friends to lovers pleaseeeee

6. "I wanna take you so fucking bad."

OHHHHH YES

Patreon

-----

Harry really wasn't sure how he ended up here.

It was a scenario from his dreams, ones he'd never admitted to having to anyone else before, but he didn't know how he'd even gotten into this position with his best friend. Wine night had gotten out of hand, some sort of something had been said and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Y/N and wine stained lips pressed against his own.

Her pajama pants were pulled tight on her ass, his hands unable to keep the temptation of it away from his brain. Rocking on top of him, she whimpered softly as his lips pressed to her hot throat. The layers between them felt flimsy and he could feel how hot she was for him. His best friend of 5 years, rolling her hips and holding his face against her sweet spot on her neck.

"H-Harry..." She breathed, tugging softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "It feels so good... Why does it feel so good?" Her slow grind against his prick made him roll his eyes back into his head. It was childish, something he hadn't done in years, but it felt better than his last year of hookups combined. "Why didn't we do this before?"

Y/N always asked the real questions.

"Dunno... Should have." His fingertips pressed into the curve of her ass, the hot skin exposed from her shorts moving up. "God...You smell amazing." It was the little things like that. Teeth nipping her throat and being engulfed in her, realizing just how much he gravitated towards certain candles because they smelled like her. His brain always knew, was always plotting this even if he was trying his hardest not to. "I wanna take you so fucking bad." The voice that came from his throat was unfamiliar to him, wrecked and desperate. "But I can't. Not now."

"No... Please." She begged, pulling him from her neck to look at him. "Please, H. I need it so bad, I can't... I can't stop." He could see it in her face. She meant it. Y/N really wanted him to take her, and god knew his cock was desperate to sink into her hot cunt, get deep inside, stay there. Milk every drop of cum her had inside of her. But not like this.

"Can't... Not when we've been drinking." He frowned. "M'not gonna stop this.... Gonna let you rub yourself on my cock and let you cum. Not that cruel." He squeezed over her ass harder to get that pretty whimper from her mouth. "But I can't do it like this. You deserve more. If I'm going to fuck you... M'gonna do it right." He breathed, connecting their lips again. She tasted so sweet, the tiniest hint of sour from the drinks but it only added to it.

"How?" She whined. "How are you going to fuck me?"

It shouldn't have been so easy for him to spill, but it was. "Need you on a bed. Not my couch." He started, deciding to let his hands slip under her shorts and feel the full warmth of her skin against his. "Strip you down, get to see how gorgeous you are. I know it's gonna ruin me, sweetheart." No lies were told. They wouldn't be able to come back from that. "Kiss down your body... Gonna make little marks for you to remember me by. On your perfect tits, that stomach, those gorgeous thighs... Everywhere I can." His hands aided her rocking, shifting her just so and getting the gasp he'd desperately wanted from her. The thin shorts and his sleep pants were barely layers and he knew this would be the way to get her clit the way she needed.

"Then I'm going to split those thighs open and kiss you down there. Lick you up. Start slow and tease you a little, make you beg for me just like you did before... But then I'll give it to you. Suck on that clit until you can't take it and push my head away, make you cum on my tongue and stretch you out with my fingers. Know you're going to be a sopping fucking mess. Gonna want it all over my face."

"Fuck." Y/N keened, gripping his hair tighter. The action alone made his prick twitch in his poor excuse of pants, feeling the heat of her cunt bleed through and warm him up. Soon enough she'd soak those shorts and he'd be able to feel it make a mess of him. "What else?"

"Greedy thing, aren't you?" He chuckled. "mm.. Want to feel that mouth wrapped around my cock. Dreamt of it so many times but... Think I want our first time to be about you. Dunno how long I'd last with it." The mere idea of her sucking him off had been the subject of many wanks and he knew it would take an embarrassingly short amount of time to orgasm. "So instead, I'd spread you open and take you. I'd want to take you on your back at first- need to see the look on that perfect face while my cock stretches that cunt open." He groaned at the mere thought. "But I think we'd switch around a bit." One hand slipped out of the back of her shorts to go up her shirt instead. The hot skin of her back warmed his palm as he dragged it up and down.

"I'd love t'take you just like this. Watch you bounce on me, make a mess of my lap. Have your tits in my face..." He let his hand graze the side of one, making her shiver. "Suck on them. Make them wet and swollen for me, just like your cunt. But you'd get tired, hm pretty girl? Bouncing up and down like that, gonna make your legs burn... So I'd flip you over and get you on your knees..." His voice was muffled for a moment as she kissed him again with her sugary mouth. "I'd get you on your knees and watch you take me. See your ass move and hit my thighs... How you'd arch your back for me. I think that would be perfect." His hand kneaded her ass, spreading it a bit roughly as she gave him another pretty gasp. Her eyes were bleary and soft as she looked down at him, heat behind the gaze as she rutted on top of him.

"Would you do it hard?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "Would you spank me?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in shock at the question, but it shouldn't have. Of fucking course she was perfect for him. There was no way around it. "Yeah, I would. I'd go at the pace you want... and you're obviously a filthy thing. Had no clue you wanted something like that, but I'd give it to you." he pulled her back down to his lips, slipping his hand out of her shirt to give a light slap to her ass before rubbing over the area to soothe. It wasn't the hardest he could have gone but it was testing the waters. "Like that?"

When she shook her head, he couldn't help but smile. "Harder?" He repeated the action, harder this time. It made her jolt, the stinging skin getting a whimper as she nodded against him. "Fuck me... You're what I needed all along, aren't you? Been under my nose the whole fucking time."

[moonsbypadfoot]

interest | theodore nott x female reader.

warnings : angst, fluff, based on real live events that I am still going through! (Some parts are still made up, I've only experienced the first half, the second half are made up) 😘🙃, slytherin reader (doesn't really affect the story), usage of y/n, short, short, short fan fiction, wrote this in like 30 mins, english isn't my first language and I am convinced that I'm dyslexic, second person pov,

have fun reading!

🦖

it was your fifth year at hogwarts, fifth year being friends with pansy, and your fifth year being hopelessly inlove with theodore.

yes, you've had 'relationships' before him, but he was still at the back of your mind. theodore was still lingering.

Theo seemed funny, moody, and so much more, but, you didn't expect him to like books.

Pansy looked down while eating her food, and simply said "you're reading little women too? Theodore loves that book" To which you hushed her immediately.

But that didn't stop you from asking her about Theo,later that day. "He likes it? " You asked, showing the book to pansy, "who likes what? " Pansy scrunched her eyebrows, and you groaned loudly.

"Theodore, pansy, Theodore! "

Pansy nodded her head, saying "oh yeah, he likes it". You gasped at how chill she is, and you said " This might be it pansy! ".

And oh you were right, it is it. You and daphne were sitting on a bench, gossiping about other people. When all of the sudden, Theodore passed you two, and said "Laurie, mhm? ".

"So you do like little women? " You and daphne's attention were shifted to him "since forever", and just like that, he left.

That became a more and more of a schedule for you to sit on that same bench everyday, on the exact same time. Daphne doesn't know that you still like him, it was well common knowledge that you used to like Theodore, but, everyone thought that you had moved on.

Daphne was so tired of Theodore, that whenever she sees him coming to you two, she'd roll her eyes sand say stuff like 'here he goes again' and make the biggest sigh ever.

Your first 'real' conversation was him coming up to you, saying "I like jo more than amy". At that point you didn't know what to say, neither Daphne or Pansy was there to make you less tense.

You scoffed "Amy is way better". You tried to keep yourself cool, and you did just that.

For days to days you two became closer. You'd have little chit chats after dinner, and your liking for him became bigger, but it shouldn't have.

"I have some little women.. Merch, I can send it to your room, later" Theodore suggested. "First of all, pansy would kill me if I had a boy in my room. Second of all, that will not happen cause if you do the stairs will turn into a literal slide and make you look stupid" You said, to which he just started at you.

You stupidly dreamt of him in your room, which is obviously forbidden.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne eventually found out about you still liking him, and she's convinced that Theo likes you back.

"Do you not remember what he said? 'I used to like little women, now I like it again because of her' and the boy pointed at you! And do you not remember quidditch? "

Oh boy, you do remember Quidditch.

His Quidditch match was last Wednesday, and two days before that, you two made a bet. If he won, you have to give him 15 galleons, and if he lose, he has to give you 15 galleons.

See, that same week, your professors had bombarded everyone with exams. So, if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have watched any of the Quidditch stuff.

That Wednesday, you kept exactly 15 galleons in your pocket. And, unsurprisingly he won. The slytherins celebrated like crazy, and, after that, you came up to him, saying "I could've bought myself candy but, I have your 15 galleons".

"No need for that," Theodore softly smiles, and went back to his friends who were cheering and waiting for him.

That day you couldve swore you spent a thousand hour telling pansy what you felt.

All of the sudden, Theodore didn't seem interested. You hadn't told Daphne about this, but pansy is so mas at him for the sudden stop of interest.

"See, boys are immature" Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to know about his friend and, theodore-"

"Not so loud! " You sushed her, reminding that you two were still in the great hall. You doubt anyone heard you but, still, for safety reasons. "How about.. My 'him', we can call him uh.. "

"Toaster, cause if he doesn't act right Im gonna-"

"Hold your horses, pansy, let's call him trex"

"Fine, you're way too nice for that guy, and uhm, what should I call my 'him'? " Pansy asked, and, there was one minute of silence.

"Maybe trial number #2? "

That was the day your nicknames were born, and, things excelated from there. 'Trial #2', which is blaise, talked to pansy in the Slightest way possible, and 'trex' which is theo is talking to you, but he makes the conversation as dry as possible.

Theo is almost always the conversation starter, but when it comes to keeping the conversation going, it's you, and it is hardwork to keep Theo talking to you

That also reminded you of a conversation you had a long, long time ago with millicent. About how he's broken home and doesn't have a mother, and turns out it was true.

"So, that explains the on and off thing with you and him" Pansy shrugged "if you're really in love with him, you're in some really deep shit. Trial #2 barely talks to me"

and in deep shit you are, as the days became longer because he didn't want to talk to you. Pansy convinced you enough to just stop talking to him.

You felt better but, there is still something in you still craving him dearly.

"He's just there, pansy, like.. Like a word about to be spoken, but then vanishes out of our brains! One second he's there and the next he's gone! " You complained.

What made you more confused is that, you and him became more confusing. You felt like you're more than a friend, but you don't know what it is because of one thing he said.

It was common for you friends, lorenzo, and Mattheo, to tease you about Theo. It's as if they know.

Obviously, Theo was there too, along with Daphne next to you. "Y/n, I think you and Theodore are a good fit" Lorenzo laughed, and the others chimed with agreement. But, it was a subtle whisper from Theo that made you down for the rest of the day. "Don't say that, I like astoria"

You kept laughing, though it was obvious for those who actually knows you that your laugh was so fake.

You kept ignoring him, and you truly do feel better for once. As pansy says 'give him taste of his own medicine ' and you did what she said, and you felt better, for awhile.

Till he came up to you and forced you to confess.

"The fuck is wrong with you y/n? " Theodore said. "What do you mean? " You said, but, the pit in your stomach tells you exactly what he means.

"You're avoiding me. I thought we were friends"

"That's the problem" You said, in a confusing tone, which made him think.. Was it a question or a statement?

"I thought we couldve been more, Theo" You rolled your eyes at his oblivion, and you paused "you like astoria, don't you, mhm? You said it yourself".

Theo frowned "don't act so innocent, you and Macmillan were so close I thought you two were dating".

"I wasn't" You paused, "I moved on a long time ago, unlike you, no one moves on in the span of two weeks".

"Her friends told me she doesn't like me! "

"So what? That makes it right? I don't care if she likes you or not, I care if you like her or not. If I'm just your second choice, this won't work. Pansy told me that I'm better than any boys in Hogwarts, and I agree with her! Because boys like you suck"

"I like you, okay? Will you get that into your thick skull?" Theodore groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're weird" You said, "what about me Is weird? " Theo asks.

"Your on and off stuff. You act interested, then when I actually wanna talk to you you get so dry, do you not think of that? Or you're actually really dumb? "

"You ignored me too"

"That's because I wanted you to feel what I felt! "

You honestly felt sad but, anger was more visible. But Theo looked emotionless. He wasn't happy, angry, sad, he was just there.

You both wanted to say something, but you didn't. Neither you nor Theo said a thing. You opened your bag and found your book, well, technically his.

"Here's a book that i borrowed" You said, giving it to him. "You can keep it" Theo pushed the book back to you, but your hand didn't budge. "No thanks, theo.. Ive written somethings in pencil. Don't worry too much because it's so thin you could barely tell what I wrote, a single swipe with your finger or eraser, it'll be gone".

A week has passed. And you knew for a fact he didn't re read the book.

On your favorite page, you wrote 'three broomsticks, next month, 9:00 AM? ' a month ago.

You knew way more than to come there, or did you?

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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[astrophileous]

The Monday Pursuit

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: The three times Derek tries to find out your name, and the one time he finally gets it. Or, the story of four different Mondays that Derek spends on the pursuit of your name.

Warning(s): shy!reader, cursing, public confrontation (verbal and physical) with a douchebag, verbal and physical threats, talks of killing someone, name-calling, protective derek, a bit of damsel in distress situation, and that's it really. this is just tooth-rotting fluff 💞

Word Count: 4300-ish

Author's Note: I FINALLY POSTED A DEREK ONE SHOT! YAY! I was toying around with the idea of making this a series of connected one shots, each one focusing on the significance of a particular day (tuesday, wednesday, thursday, etc) in the progress of your relationship. does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? tell me what you think! plsss!!! don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek noticed you on a Monday.

He couldn't count how many times his eyes had swept over you absentmindedly in the past few weeks. None of them ever lasted long enough for him to linger around, but somehow, this particular Monday was different.

It was different because the moment Derek's gaze drifted towards the direction where he would usually find you, he finally noticed that you were gone.

It was ironic in a way, how he only noticed you in the wake of your absence. But somewhere in the ruckus that his favorite coffee shop would whirl into every morning, Derek had begun associating the table in the corner of that place with you.

Even then, when someone else was occupying the seat at the end of his long stare, Derek could picture the scene in his head: your laptop on the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hand, and a serious but adorable crease on the center of your forehead. Those three things stood out from the rest. Perhaps if he had the same eidietic ability as Spender Reid, Derek could list more details about your habits and person. Nonetheless, somewhere in his subsconscious, Derek's memories must have deemed you important enough to keep, and that was all it took for him to wonder what about you was so goddamn special.

His fog of reverie was soon broken by an interrupting voice, "She's out of town."

Derek turned his head to see one of the barristas giving him a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"The writer. She's out of town."

"Writer?" Derek didn't know that. "She's a writer?"

"On the side. She's in grad school," the barrista said. "She has two books out and another one pending publication. She's in New York right now for a book signing."

The word impressive promptly filled Derek's mind, and judging by the barrista's expression, it seemed that the word had translated unmistakably on his face, too.

"You know, you shouldn't give out someone's information to random people like that," Derek warned.

"I don't usually, but I thought, since you're FBI..."

The surprise in Derek's eyes couldn't be more palpable. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, you've been around a while." The barrista shrugged. "Besides, I don't think she would mind."

Derek frowned.

"She likes you," the barrista revealed once they saw the confusion settling on Derek's face.

"What?"

"She's got a bad crush on you, didn't you know?"

"Uh, no?"

"Huh." The barrista put down the cup containing Derek's order on the counter. "I thought you knew. She was so obvious. I mean, I'm not sure how she hasn't burned through the back of your skull with how hard she always stares."

Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe what Derek was feeling. His curious eyes flicked momentarily towards your table before he addressed the barrista again, "She's a friend of yours?"

"Hell yeah, she is." The barrista smiled. "That's why I know she's got it bad for you."

Being admired wasn't exactly something new for Derek, so he struggled to comprehend why the thought of you crushing on him had triggered a wave of heat to travel up and down his body.

"What's her name?" Derek asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant as he picked up his cup of coffee.

The barrista grinned smugly. "I thought you told me not to give someone's information to a random person like that?"

With that said, the barrista went to attend to another customer, leaving Derek to curse over his excellent ability to dig up his own hole.

You were back in town the following week.

When Derek walked into the coffee shop the next Monday, he immediately found you huddled up in your usual seat. For one split second, Derek saw you looking up from your laptop, your eyes locking with his from across the room. But before he could offer a smile, you averted your gaze as if you couldn't wait to get away from him.

That thought didn't conjure well in Derek's mind.

Derek proceeded to give his usual order and waited by the counter. However, when he saw a plate of blueberry muffin being placed next to his cup to go, Derek glimpsed up in confusion at the awaiting smirk on your friend's--the barrista's--face.

"I didn't order this."

"No, you didn't. But do you know whose favorite dessert it is?"

Derek casted a glance towards your direction.

"Exactly." The barrista grinned wider. "Now, go. It's on the house."

The loud drumming inside Derek's chest should have been laughable.

He was never like this. Derek was always self-assured, especially when it came to flirting and courting, so there really was no reason for him to be feeling like this. But something about you had spiked the rhytmic beating in his chest, and Derek didn't like being out of his element when there was a pretty girl at stake.

Thus, with an ease born out of years of practice, Derek worked to turn on his good ol' charm. The same one that dripped from his footsteps as he sauntered over your table with his coffee in one hand and one special plate of blueberry muffin in the other.

Deer caught in headlights; that was exactly the perfect description to visualize how you looked when Derek finally placed the muffin on the table. The man smirked triumphantly at the knowledge that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Hey," Derek greeted almost complacently. "I heard this is your favorite."

"What? I don't.... how did you..."

You stopped speaking altogether, sending a grimace to the direction of the counter--where your friend was working--when you deduced what could probably have transpired

"I missed you last week," Derek added.

If you were abashed before, then you must have been mortified when those words slipped out of Derek's lips. You looked up at him with a gaping mouth, and Derek would have laughed at how precious you looked if he didn't have compassion for your poor nerves.

"I was out of town," you eventually managed to say.

"I heard. A writer, right? You had a book signing." Derek smiled. "That's impressive. Anything of yours I might know?"

Your face contorted after hearing his question. "I doubt it. I'm not big at all."

"I don't know. Book signing in New York? Sounds pretty big to me."

"Not as much as you would expect, to be honest."

Derek didn't know why, but he despised the sound of you downplaying your own accomplishments as if they weren't worthy of being praised. He swore he would assist in changing that tendency if given the chance.

"My name is Derek. Derek Morgan."

"I know."

Derek raised a curious eyebrow.

You cowered shyly when you realized what you had admitted. "I heard you mention it a while ago, when you were ordering."

"And you remember?"

Your bashful expression nearly compelled Derek to cheer out loud.

"Do you need something?" you finally asked, not at all mean or bitter, more timid than anything else.

"Yes. I was wondering if I could ask for your name."

"My name?

Derek nodded. "Well, you see, I wanted to ask for your number, but I figured since I still don't have your name yet, then maybe I should get around to it first."

You bit your bottom lip, seemingly in deep thought as you assessed Derek with soft eyes.

"My name is--"

Just as the answer was dangling on the tip of your tongue, Derek's phone suddenly started to ring. He internally cursed his life for its partiality to bad timings, holding up an apologetic finger as he accepted the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beefcake, where are you?" Penelope Garcia asked from the other end of the line. "Hotch just told everyone to be up and running in 30."

"What? I thought the briefing starts in 30."

"He's debriefing on the plane. Another body just turned up."

"Shit. Shit. Okay, fine, I'll be there."

Derek ended the call in the next second, panic clouding his mind to the point that he failed to realize he didn't bid his usual farewell to his favorite tech analyst. In front of him, you were staring with a pair of expectant eyes that made Derek wish he could stop time to spend it by your side. Alas, such power only existed in fantasy, and Derek--frankly--didn't have enough time at hand to pay grievance over that fact.

"I'm sorry."

Your face fell at Derek's apology, even if slightly.

"God, this sucks. I wish I could stay. I haven't even--"

"Derek, it's okay," you cut him off. "Just go."

"But you didn't--"

"Derek." Your hand on the table slid forward, as though wanting to reach out to him but stopped shortly before you did. "I'm always here."

It was such a simple statement. Three small words that carried hardly any weight on their own whatsoever. But strung together, Derek knew exactly what you meant, the real meaning behind the sentence you chose to say.

You can go. It's okay. We'll continue this some other time.

Reeling from your generous understanding, Derek rushed a goodbye before sprinting towards the door. But just as he was about to touch its handle, he span around for one last look, calling out a sentence that he had pocketed safely as a promise.

"I'll see you soon."

Since Derek's last encounter with you at the coffee shop, the BAU had been thrown from one case to another in the span of two weeks, during which Derek seemed to struggle eliminating the thought of you from the depth of his mind.

When a new Monday rolled around, Derek found himself whistling to a favorite tune as he took the morning route towards the coffee shop. The day was a gloomy one, gray and cloudy with a high chance of rain, contrasting entirely with the sunshine inside Derek's chest. In a few minutes, he would finally see you again, and Derek couldn't wait to woo you into agreeing on a date with him as his palm pressed on the door of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, Derek's movements ceased the moment he stepped into the familiar establishment.

The atmosphere in the coffee shop struck no resemblance to what Derek had associated with the place: warm, safe, and welcoming. Instead, the taste of tension was hot on his tongue, sizzling under the thick silence that had rendered the entire room into a standstill.

In the middle of it all, just a few paces from where the front door stood, Derek had found you.

You were standing with your head down, which wasn't a strange sight considering that you often did that to avoid unwanted attention. But Derek never saw your lips quiver that way before, nor did he ever see your eyes blown so out of proportion in a telltale sign of fright.

Upon a further inspection of the room, Derek realized that he wasn't the only one whose eyes were trained on you. Every patron in the shop, including every worker behind the counter, was staring openly in your direction as well. He was a milisecond away from taking another step when the man in front of you started to scream out of the blue.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you fucking stupid?!"

The malicious words didn't sit well with the vituous bone in Derek's body. But it was seeing you flinch from the verbal onslaught that finally made Derek dash forward, putting himself as a shield between you and the insolent stranger.

"That's enough," Derek said as he tugged you behind his back.

The stranger looked up at Derek with an ugly scowl on his face. "Who the hell are you?!"

"If you have a problem, let's take this outsi--"

"I don't have a problem with you, dickhead. I have a problem with her!" Derek extended to his full height instinctively, trying to hide you from the brazen man. "Now, move. This is none of your fucking business!"

"It became my business the second you chose to disrupt everyone's morning," Derek countered. "Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

"Why don't you ask your bitch, huh? She fucking started all of this."

"Fucking bastard."

Red clouded Derek's vision when he clenched the man's collar in his hand. All around him, the crowd erupted in a chorus of gasps. Satisfaction filled Derek's chest when he glimpsed the hint of fear in the man's eyes.

"I dare you to say one more word about her," Derek seethed. "I dare you."

"Derek." He felt your fingers then, twisting around a portion of his shirt, pulling desperately until Derek loosened his grip on the other man. "Please."

The douchebag stumbled dramatically when Derek finally discarded him to the side.

Derek span around, looking directly into your eyes for the first time that morning. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Instead of answering his question, you pushed past a frowning Derek, addressing the horrible man whose face was now crimson; either from rage or embarrassment, Derek didn't know. He didn't care.

"I'm sorry, sir." Your voice vibrated in the air. It wavered with a clear sign of tears. "I didn't... I wasn't thinking. I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry. And I apologize to everyone for ruining your day."

With that, you turned around and picked up your belongings that were scattered on the floor before dashing straight out of the door. Derek stared at your back until it disappeared from view.

"You better tell me what the fuck happened here," Derek fumed towards the man.

"You heard her. She fucked up, that's what happened."

"That's not true." A new voice arose. Derek turned his head to see your barrista friend standing behind the counter, their eyes flaming with anger.

"The poor girl spilled her coffee," another voice interjected. It belonged to an old lady who was standing at the very front of the line. "She didn't mean to, but it got all over his things. Then he just started screaming all kinds of stuff to her."

Derek closed his eyes before reopening them again, shooting daggers towards the man. "You're pulling this crap over a spilled fucking coffee?!"

The other man began to stutter. "She ruined important documents!"

"It wasn't even her fault," the barrista added. "He was too busy being on his phone to watch where he was going."

That last piece of information was the last straw for Derek.

He used his forearm to push the douchebag by the throat, slamming his back against the wall until the man gasped for air.

"You will never step foot in here again, do you hear me?" Derek pressed his elbow deeper into the man, stopping only when he started to nod frantically. "You don't come near this place, ever again. But most importantly, you don't come near her. I'm gonna fucking kill you if you do."

Derek let him go afterwards, ignoring the series of coughs that the man had fallen into while he marched towards the door.

"Don't even think for a minute that I'm gonna let this go!" the man shouted just as Derek was about to exit the coffee shop. "I'll be notifying the authorities about what happened here today. You'll see!"

The scoff Derek let out couldn't be more condescending. "Yeah, you do that. And when you do, tell them--" Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out his credentials before flashing it towards the man, "--the name's Agent Derek Morgan. FBI."

He slammed the door behind him.

Once outside, Derek's eyes darted around to find any trace of you in the midst of the morning rush hour. Eventually, he spotted the back of your head, walking away about a few feet ahead of him. Derek broke into a sprint almost immediately, squeezing himself in between the ocean of people, trying to catch up with you before realizing that he most like wouldn't be able to.

Just as he watched you turning a corner, Derek mourned the fact that he couldn't call out to you because he still didn't know your name.

It was the second Monday that Derek didn't see you anywhere in, or near, the coffee shop.

In total, it had been two whole weeks without you showing your face at the place, not even once. Your barrista friend was as clueless about your whereabouts as Derek was. He even had started coming into the shop at odd hours during the day, or whenever his schedule would allow him to, sometimes lingering for a few minutes in the morning just in case he would catch you walking through those doors.

You never did.

In a moment fueled by something akin to desperation, Derek found himself marching towards the office of Penelope Garcia. If there was anyone who could find you--who you were, where you were, and everything else about you--it was going to be the team's tech genius.

The tech analyst wasn't in the room when Derek entered, and as he found himself standing there--alone in the silence--Derek was confronted by how ridiculous he was being.

He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the thought of never seeing you again managed to lure him into considering a breach of privacy. Derek had barely even talked to you, yet whatever brief interaction the two of you had so far was enough to affect him in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Derek decided to turn around and vacant the room before anyone could catch him lingering there like an idiot, but his steps fell short when he saw Penelope standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Sugar?" Penelope questioned, her eyes squinting into a suspicion-filled look.

"Looking for you, of course," Derek lied.

"Derek Morgan, I didn't spend years working with the best profilers in the country to not be able to tell when someone is lying." Penelope walked towards her chair, making sure that she was settled comfortably before swiveling around to face Derek again. "Talk to me."

"Babygirl, there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh my God. It's about a girl."

How the fuck does she do that?

"Derek, you tell me right now every single thing about this lovely creature who has captured your heart, and I meant every single thing. What's her name? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? You guys are official, right? Because if not, then--"

"Okay, Blondie, pump your brakes," Derek interfered before Penelope could vomit the entire content of the Oxford dictionary. "There's no girl."

Penelope frowned. "There isn't?"

"No."

"But you want it to be?"

Derek couldn't give her an answer.

"Mister, you tell me what's going on right now, and don't leave out any details."

So, that was exactly what Derek ended up doing.

He told Penelope about you; about the little snippets of yourself that had infiltrated Derek's subsconscious without him even realizing it, about your first proper interraction where your smile looked more appetizing than the blueberry muffin he had put on the table, and about the incident that marked his last ever encounter with you.

By the time he wrapped the story up, Penelope's face was a heap of reactions.

"You know," the tech analyst finally said, "I can probably find her for you."

"I told you I don't want that, Sweetness."

"But why?!" Penelope nearly whined. "You like her, and her friend said she obviously likes you, too. What if you never see her again? Are you seriously just going to let your story end in what ifs?"

"Of course, I don't want that. But this is not how I want our story to start, too, if there is even gonna be one." Derek gripped Penelope's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. "Thanks for the offer, Babygirl, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

For the rest of that day, Derek threw himself into work in order to keep his head preoccupied with something else other than the images of you.

In a few hours, he had successfully completed all of the pending case reports that were piling on his desk. A quick glance at the clock told Derek that he still had another three hours before he was supposed to go home. Sighing, Derek got up from his desk and walked towards the pantry.

"It's been four hours," Derek heard Emily say as soon as he walked towards the kitchenette. "What are they doing there?"

"She could be a reporter. Maybe she's interviewing him," Spencer theorized.

"Who's interviewing who?" Derek asked.

He headed for the coffee maker only to realize that there was no coffee left. Derek cursed under his breath before he went to make a fresh batch.

"Rossi has a guest, and they've been in his office for four hours," Spencer explained.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't see anyone."

"She came in during lunch."

"Huh. A woman?"

Spencer nodded.

"Potential lover?" Derek asked again.

"I don't think so. She's young."

"Unless, he's that kind of guy." Emily smirked.

Spencer frowned. "What kind of guy?"

"I don't think Rossi's like that." Derek chuckled.

"Who is she, then?" Emily questioned.

"Is no one going to tell me what kind of guy Rossi is?" Spencer suddenly said.

"A student, perhaps? A fan? Who knows?" Derek shrugged. "Or maybe you were right. She's here to interview him."

"Oh! Here they come!" Emily exclaimed a few minutes later.

Derek turned to steal a glance at the guest that had captured his fellow teammates' interest. But just as he was about to catch a glimpse of her, Derek suddenly spilled hot coffee everywhere, flooding nearly half the counter until some of it dripped down the cabinets as well.

"Shit." Derek stared at the mess he had made in annoyance. "Fuck me."

"She's really pretty, though," Emily pointed out--no doubt about Rossi's guest--earning an agreeing hum from Spencer.

After he had cleaned up the spilled coffee, Derek ambled back towards the direction of his desk. As he was passing the glass doors to the bullpen, however, Derek saw Rossi standing in front of the elevator, waving towards the person who had just walked inside of it.

Someone who--as Derek realized with a particularly loud thump in his chest--turned out to be you.

Derek was barely able to place the steaming cup of coffee on a random desk before he made a run for the elevator. But just as he reached Rossi's side, the elevator's doors had closed, making you vanish once more from Derek's sight.

"Shit," Derek muttered. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Beside him, Rossi was staring in open confusion. "Morgan?"

Derek finally turned towards the older man. "The girl who was in the elevator. Who is she?"

Rossi's forehead creased. "Why?"

"Do you know her?"

"She's a fellow crime writer. She was here for a consultation," Rossi answered. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Her name. What's her name?"

"What the hell is going on, Morgan?"

"Rossi, come on, man," Derek sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I just need her name."

Derek barely succeeded in mumbling a quick thank you to Rossi for giving him your name before he rushed straight to the emergency stairs. The entire run down to the lobby was a blur in Derek's eyes. The only focus in his mind was about getting to you.

Once he was outside of the headquarters building, Derek saw you walking a few paces ahead of him in the direction of the parking lot. He shouted your name with all of his might, seeing you stop and turn your body around from the distance, and soon enough, he had managed to close it in a matter of seconds.

Derek was a mess of panting breaths and drumming heartbeats when he finally stood in front of you. The look you gave him spoke of surprise and bewilderment, and Derek relished in the feeling of being at the receiving end of your lovely gaze.

"Derek? What? What are you--"

"I work with Rossi," Derek stated simply.

Your eyebrows escalated in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you earlier with him," Derek continued. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed his eyes to roam over your entire person, from the top of your head to the tip your toes. There was no malice in his stare as he did, just appreciation, and maybe a little bit of longing from not having seen you in such a long time.

"I haven't been to the coffee shop again. Not after--" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I was embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart."

"You got dragged into my mess. I owe you an apology."

"You owe me nothing. Okay? What happened wasn't your fault. That man was just an asshole," Derek told you truthfully. "You don't have to be worried about him anymore. He's never coming back."

His last statement caused you to lift your head up so fast, Derek was scared you were going to have a whiplash.

"Nothing happened, sweetheart," he elaborated once he saw the panic in your eyes. "I just made sure to let him know that he wasn't welcome there anymore."

The breath you let out sounded eerily similar with relief.

"Thank you, Derek. For everything," you offered shyly. "Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it up to you."

That last sentence you uttered prompted a wide grin across Derek's face. "Actually, there may be something."

Derek took a step closer towards you then, noting the way your shoulders tensed up from his proximity. His own senses were overcome by everything about you; from the slight parting of your lips, the steady rise and fall of your chest that seemed to be growing more rapid in Derek's presence, and to the sweet plus addictive smell of your perfume.

Taking his own deep breath, Derek forced the words--the same ones that he had been keeping deep inside of him--to tumble freely into the air.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

[cowgurrrl]

Roll The Bones

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Author’s note: I wrote this in the midst of a flare up so please enjoy and be gentle with your disabled friends <3

Summary: A bad pain day with Joel [1.5k]

Warnings: descriptions of injuries and subsequent chronic pain, medical settings and discussion, I think that’s it??

When Joel finds you, you're in a pitiful state. Your arm is folded over your face, covering your eyes even though the blinds are closed and the room is dark. Your right leg is peeking out from under the bundle of blankets and quilt, elevated with a lukewarm towel surrounding the swelling kneecap. The room smells like the salve someone in the town makes that's supposed to alleviate your pain. So far, it's just given you a headache. Your entire body throbs with pain and frustration. It shouldn't be like this, you think ruefully. I shouldn't feel like this. 

Joel lightly pads over to your bedside— his footsteps quiet now that he's discarded his boots by the front door— and perches next to you. His hand finds a home on your afflicted knee and carefully maneuvers his thumb over the tendons to help with the pain. You shift the arm covering your face to reach for him, and he smiles. 

"There she is," he murmurs as you take him in. His hair is long and a little unruly in the back, but you think it makes him look soft and domestic. He's shed his work jacket and heavier clothes downstairs and is clad in his soft, well-worn-in flannel. He smells like pine and leather. You want to wrap yourself in his warmth but settle for having him nearby. "Ellie told me you were havin' a rough day." He says. It doesn't surprise you that she did, even though you promised her you were fine and didn't need him. It's become rare that she doesn't update him daily on your health.

About a year ago, you were on patrol with Tommy when a Runner came out of nowhere and charged at your horse. She startled and bucked you off before you could regain control of the reins. The Runner was dead before you could hit the ground, and your horse would be recovered within the day, but the damage was done. You broke your leg in two places and dislocated your knee, in addition to a low-level concussion and cuts on your face and arms. When you came back into Jackson on Tommy's horse, half-conscious, bloody, and delirious with pain, Joel was horrified, Ellie even more so.

You were in the hospital for a month as they used what they could to put you in something akin to a cast and reset the bones. Joel and Ellie took turns being guards at your bed, monitoring what they gave you, when, and how much, and how your healing process was going. They were there with you every day, learning the tips and tricks to support you and keeping you sane as you stared at the white walls. 

Six months, the doctor said. Six months is all it would take to be back to normal as long as you did everything you were supposed to. Things have gotten better slower than you would like, but they have gotten better. You have really good days where you don't feel anything other than slight twinges when you move your leg in a weird way. Those days, it's hard to remember that you broke it in the first place. But other days, like today, you can feel every muscle in your leg tightening as stiff pain rockets up and down your body. You thought you could persevere enough to go to the store with Ellie, but your body obviously had other plans.

"My leg gave out on me when I was coming down the stairs. Pretty sure I made the whole house shake when I fell." You explain, and his eyebrows knit together in phantom pain as his thumb works your muscle. 

"You hurt anythin'?" He asks. "Other than your pride?" You blow air out of your nose in a half-laugh and shake your head. 

"Just some bruises," you say. He finds a tender spot in your knee that makes you hiss and ball up your fists, but he doesn't let up until the muscle releases. It's what he's supposed to do: break up the scar tissue, relax the muscles, and hope for the best. It still hurts like a bitch, and it'll hurt more in the morning. He mumbles apologies under his breath and kisses you to try and distract you, but your brain's been running wild for hours. "I went so long without any pain." You finally say, breaking the reverie and collapsing the unwanted space your pain often creates. 

"You've been takin' on a lot these past few weeks. It doesn't surprise me somethin' would flare up." It's an honest assessment. He warned you this would happen, but you ignored him. You thought you knew your body better. You wanted to know your body better. The returning thought and the gentle hand on your knee turn your tongue into sandpaper, and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. Despite the low light in the room, Joel catches it and makes a sympathetic noise. 

"Hey, talk to me." He says softly, shifting his hand from your knee to your face to catch a few stray tears. You shake your head and try and fail to form the words. Joel is patient. He always is, but he shouldn't have to be. 

"I'm so tired of being like this." You whisper, hating the feel of the words on your tongue and hating the sound of them even more. Joel gives you a confused look and pushes your hair out of your face. 

"Bein' like what?"

"Sick," you choke out. Now that the dam is broken, there's no stopping the bitter rush of words from leaving you. "We took her across the country and got rid of anyone who even looked at her wrong. Now, I can't even get on a horse without hurting. And I do all the stupid fucking things the doctor tells me to do. I do the exercises and take the medicine and everything, and nothing is making it better, and I'm so tired." 

"Why didn't you tell me that?" 

"Because I didn't want you to think I'm broken." It's a thought you've harbored since you were laid up in the hospital, unable to even walk to the bathroom without help, but this is the first time you've expressed it. You secretly hoped if you just didn't say anything about it, maybe Joel wouldn't notice. It's a stupid idea, given that your entire lives have changed since the accident. You just didn't want to get thrown away like all the other broken things in this world. Joel takes a deep breath and gazes at you. 

"Honey, you aren't broken. Not even close to it," he says. You want to counter him, but the weight of your emotion is too heavy on your chest. "I wanna know if somethin' is hurtin' you cause when you hurt, I hurt, okay? You're not a burden or somethin' to fix. You just… need a little extra care right now, and that's okay. I wanna take care of you."

"What if it's like this forever?" You ask, and he shakes his head. 

"It won't be."

"But, what if it is?" More tears fill your eyes as you await his answer. He didn't fall in love with this version of you. You don't know if you could blame him if he never does. But with enough ease and love to take your breath away, Joel kisses your forehead, right where your temple smacked against the cold ground. He kisses your forehead and the white scars littering your cheeks before finally shifting to kiss the knee propped up on pillows and hope. He doesn't flinch at the swelling or the angry spasms. He treats them with care and attention. He treats them as another part of you. 

"Takin' care of you has never and will never be on the list of worst things imaginable. Your health is not a sacrifice or a burden on me. If it's like this forever, we'll adapt, but I know you. I know how hard you're workin' to get better. I know we'll find a way to live with this," he says. "But I need you to talk to me when things aren't workin'. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's helpin' and what's not, okay?" You swallow around the lump in your throat and nod. 

"Okay." 

"Okay," he echoes. "I'm gonna get you an appointment with Dr. Lutton and see if we can't get you on a new treatment plan first thing tomorrow mornin'. Is there anythin' I can do for you until then?" He asks, fully prepared to go to the edge of the earth if you asked him to. 

"Can you lay with me?" You ask, and he smiles. 

"Of course, baby." He mumbles. He kisses your knee one more time before shuffling to wrap you in his arms. The warmth from his body helps relieve some of your tension and pain, and he kneads calming circles over your shoulders and back. Your focus shifts from the pain in your leg to the song he's humming, the vibrations in his chest a welcome distraction. The pain doesn't go away entirely— you doubt it ever will— but you rest your weary body against his and sleep, finding wholeness in his acceptance of your loss. 

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