#i could have done something with her hair

[illyrianbitch]

In Every Universe

Pairing: Reader x Azriel, Minor Elain x Lucien

Summary: Elain catches you asking Azriel if you're destined to be together in every universe.

Warnings: mostly fluff, pining, soulmatism, brief mentions of violence/blood/death, elain as your no.1 shipper, elucien being sweet

Word Count: 3.9k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The wood of the doorframe was rough beneath Elain’s fingers as she lingered in the opening.

Elain loved the Day Court—the sun-kissed glow of her skin, the endless warmth that felt like home. But every now and then, it was healing to return to her family, to see them, to know they were okay. Visits to the Night Court with Lucien at her side were rare since they’d started their family, but they always felt meaningful. There was a peace in these nights, a quiet place to rest and breathe. And sometimes, it gave her this: a glimpse of the people she loved, caught in the small, unspoken ways they cared for one another.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the celestial device. Feyre had told her about it, but Elain’s mind had forgotten to store away the proper name. She blamed it on her pregnancy brain at the time of the conversation. The device glowed as it slowly spun, scattering faint patterns of light over you and Azriel as you stood together, watching in awe. 

It was slightly ironic to Elain that she was able to sneak up and observe such an intimate moment without Azriel, the most-feared Spymaster, noticing. But, in all truth, she wasn’t entirely surprised. You and Azriel had your own world, held moments that seemed like they existed only for you two—even Azriel’s shadows became something else entirely, something distracted and completely enamored with you. 

“It’s… beautiful,” you said, the words reverent. “Gods, what a wonder we live in.”

Azriel hummed a sound that sounded a lot like agreement— like complete contentment. Elain recognized it slightly, almost felt compelled to compare it to the cat that Vassa and Jurian had dubbed the true ruler of the mortal lands. She stifled a laugh at the thought. 

You pointed at something—a star, perhaps—and said something Elain couldn’t hear, your voice too soft. Azriel tilted his head toward you and his shadows swirled around you both, gentle and calm tendrils wrapping themselves through the edges of your hair strands. Azriel murmured something back, and though Elain couldn’t catch the words, she saw the way they made you smile.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he reached out, scarred fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch was light, practiced, and it made him look entirely at home. Of course it did. He’d done it a hundred times before. You didn’t flinch or startle—didn’t even pause. Instead, you tilted into him slightly, the curve of your smile deepening.

Elain’s heart blossomed. She wondered, for a brief, fleeting moment, if anyone had seen such moments with her and Lucien– wondered if her eyes glowed just like yours. 

Azriel shifted his gaze to you, and Elain could have sworn she watched his eyes dilate even from feet away. His thumb grazed your temple as he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

You leaned into the brush of his fingers. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Azriel repeated, amused. His thumb drew a lazy circle across your skin. “I can practically see the gears turning in there.”

A laugh. You shrugged, and a glimmer of amusement sparkled in your eyes. “It just makes me wonder.”

“About?”

Elain found herself leaning forward slightly, awaiting your answer as if she had been talking to you herself. You casted a glance back at the device before you. 

 “What else is out there, you know?” You tilted your head in contemplation, and Azriel pulled you into a soft embrace as you continued, “And that Bryce girl. I mean, if there are other worlds like hers, do you think…”

Azriel wrapped his arms around your center, placing an affectionate kiss to your clothed shoulder. Then, he placed his head into the crook of your neck. “Do I think what, my love?’

You turned your head to meet his eyes. “Do you think we’re together in each of them?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his silence thoughtful rather than hesitant. 

And then the room began to shift. Or maybe it was just Elain. She stood up straighter and took a deep breath as the device before you both blurred, its golden light fracturing into something softer, quieter— a divine invitation. 

Elain let herself be pulled through.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The cannon fire echoed like thunder. 

One, then another, and another still. 

Azriel’s head tilted. “Two,” he murmured. “Close.”

You couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Your mind raced through the possibilities—faces you’d seen only hours ago. A girl in the meadow. That boy with the scar. Maybe someone who’d deserved it. Maybe someone who hadn’t.

“So that makes it five.” You gripped the hilt of your blade tighter, sweat slipping down your palm. “Besides us, there's only five left.”

Azriel was quiet. 

“Come on,” he said, already turning. “You need to head east, away from the canons. I’ll lead them away from you.”

You caught his wrist. It was instinct, almost violent, and your nails dug into his skin. “No.”

He stopped. Turned back slowly, and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I’m not leaving you behind. We finish this together. You can’t keep putting yourself—”

“I can,” he cut in, voice cold. “And I will.”

“I won’t let you.”

Something cracked in his expression then. His lips parting like he wanted to argue, like he was ready to fight.

“Let me?” he repeated, his voice low. Dangerous. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“And you don’t get to decide for me.”

There was a silence that filled the space between you. Your hand, still wrapped around his wrist, softened into something almost reminiscent of a lover's hold. 

“Don’t make me watch you die,” you said finally. “Don’t do that to me, Azriel.”

His eyes softened just enough to hurt.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive.”

“Why?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. “You can win this. You know you can. Why throw away your chances for me?”

His mouth opened, then closed. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like the words were too heavy to say. But when his gaze met yours, there was no hesitation.

“You know why.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“It’s the same reason you killed that girl from six.” His voice was quiet. “For me.”

You didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. His hand, warm and calloused, brushed the back of your fingers.

“So don’t ask me to stop,” he said. “The capitol has taken so much from me. They’ve destroyed everything I cared about.  I won’t let them take you.  Not while I’m still breathing.”

A loud crack sounded in the distance. The world shifted again, a soft breeze carrying with it a sky speckled with stars.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cicada songs threaded through the air like an ancient hymn. You sat near the embers of a dying fire, the orange glow licking against the edges of the stone walls surrounding you. 

Azriel sat a few paces away, his back resting against one of the columns. His tunic was simple, sandals dusty from the day’s travel, but there was something about the way he held himself that made him seem as much a part of the night as the stars overhead.

“Do you think they truly listen?” you asked him.

Azriel’s gaze flicked to you. “The gods?” 

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. Your eyes were glued to the heavens above, to the glistening stars that seemed to be leaning closer, listening.

“They hear everything,” he responded. “The question is whether they care.”

You turned to him then, the corner of your lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “You don’t honor them?”

Azriel’s eyes scanned your face before he responded simply, “I’ve been given no reason to.”

“And you aren’t afraid of angering them?”

“I’m afraid of man more than I am of the gods.”

A flicker passed through your face, something thoughtful, contemplative. “What would you pray for, if you thought they did listen?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His scarred hands rested on his knees, the firelight painting shadows across them. There was a weight in his silence, a deliberation that pressed against the edges of the night. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before, almost a confession.

“I’d ask them to leave us be. To let us live without their meddling.”

You studied him. The sincerity of his words seemed to tug at something in your chest. “You think they’d grant a prayer like that?”

Azriel’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “No,” he said simply. “But I’d still ask.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “Stubborn,” you murmured, though your tone was warm.

When he fell silent again, you observed him once more. “What else is on your mind?”

Azriel didn’t answer right away. His gaze turned back to the fire, as if searching for something in its depths. “You could be one.”

You blinked at him, thrown. “One what?”

“A god,” he said, his eyes shifting to meet yours. “A proper one. A kind one.”

Your chest tightened, nerves prickling at the edges of your mind. “Azriel,” you said, your voice low, almost a warning. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “If I can see it, do you think they can’t?”

You glanced up at the stars, as if expecting them to strike him down then and there. “Because it’s not for us to claim,” you whispered. “And because it’s not true.”

Azriel leaned in slightly. “It is true,” he said, as though daring you to contradict him. “You stand apart. You always have.”

“Azriel—” 

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softening. “If they did listen, if they cared, they’d envy what I see in you.”

You didn’t know how to answer. Azriel reached out then, his scarred hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. You swallowed hard.

“And what of you?” You asked. “If I’m to be a god, would you be one, too?”

He shook his head and a sweet smile made its way onto his face. His brows furrowed softly. Your fingers twitched as if you ached to smooth the crease between them.

“I think I was born to follow you.”

The fire light around you flickered, and the music of the cicadas began to reverberate, stretching and pulling like a ribbon in the wind. Soon, sounds began to fill the air—smooth instruments, slow and electric. 

Warping, stretching, bleeding into something else.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were perched on a velvet stool at the edge of the bar, watching the crush of dancers sway in time to the music. There was a faint scent of cigarette smoke that clung to the air, a smell that somehow mingled perfectly with the sharp tang of liquor and the sweetness of spilled champagne.

Azriel appeared beside you without a word. He wasn’t dressed to stand out— black suit, white shirt, no tie— but somehow, in the haze of golden light and shadow, he drew every glance. You adjusted the strap of your dress, the sequins catching what little light there was, throwing sparks of silver onto the walls. 

“You’ve been hiding,” he said. 

You turned your head to meet his gaze. There was something steady in it, like he’d been waiting for you to notice him. “I didn’t know I was being looked for.”

Azriel’s lips curved. “You always are.”

Your breath hitched, just enough to be noticeable, but you masked it with a sip of your drink— one with fading bubbles. “And here I thought I was just another face in the crowd.”

“Not to me,” Azriel said simply, as if it were the plainest fact on Earth. His gaze didn’t leave yours. “Never to me.”

The band transitioned into a slower tune, the saxophone drawing out a melody that made your face soften. You looked down to hide your growing smile, cheeks now rosy from Az’s attention.

“You’re not dancing,” he noted, eyes flicking briefly to the crowded floor. 

“I don’t know if it's the right night for that.”

“Maybe you just need the right partner.”

The suggestion hung in the air, and when he held out his hand— scarred, steady— you didn’t hesitate to take it. He led you to the dance floor with a gentle hold, drawing you into his arms. 

“You didn’t have to come find me,” you murmured, your gaze tracing the lines of his face.

Azriel’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a soft smile. “I’ll always find you.”

The music slowed, and the world softened with it.

And then, the light dimmed, fading into the deep, quiet shadows of something colder, untouched, an air heavy with the scent of pine and earth.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Two wolves emerged from the shadows, moving together, their coats brushing in fleeting touches. It was a quiet language— small movements of instinct and closeness. One was a shadow itself, dark fur absorbing the moonlight. The other was lighter, sleek and graceful, its movements quieter but no less assured.

The darker wolf paused, tilting its head toward its companion, a huff of warm breath visible in the chilled air. The lighter one hesitated, then stepped closer, nuzzling its muzzle against the dark wolf’s neck, a gesture of comfort—or reassurance. The dark wolf stilled at the touch, its golden-hazel eyes half-closing as if the simple act of connection mattered more than the world around them.

And then it turned, moving quietly into the heavy, shrouded forest. The lighter wolf turned to follow the dark one, glancing back only once before disappearing into the trees.

A sharp shift—the silence of the forest soon replaced by the soft crunch beneath leather winter boots.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You and Azriel approached the house ahead, its exterior draped in a plethora of colorful Christmas lights. The world was still, save for the muffled laughter drifting from inside, and you pulled your coat tighter against the cold.

“We’re late,” you murmured, quickening your step.

Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “I doubt they mind.”

You shot him a pointed look, but Azriel only chuckled again. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.When you reached the door, your hand had barely touched the handle before Azriel stopped you, his hand brushing yours. You glanced up at him, frowning, only to catch the cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he tilted his chin toward the frame.

There, hanging above the doorway, was a sprig of mistletoe.

“Mistletoe,” you said with a sweet hum. You met Azriel’s eyes.

“Cassian or Nesta?” He asked.

“Definitely Nesta,” you said. “She loves her romance.”

He nodded in agreement. “It is a romantic tradition.”

Azriel stepped closer, lifting a hand to cradle your face as he kissed you—soft and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, your cheeks warmed under his gaze, his forehead brushing yours as he whispered, “I love you.”

The words were soft, meant just for you.

“I love you, t—”

The door sprang open and a shrieking voice filled the air with an excited, “Momma!”

You barely had time to turn before your son barreled into your arms, his eyes bright and his arms outstretched. You caught him easily, lifting him with a grin.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hey, buddy,” Azriel said, leaning over to ruffle his messy curls. His mini-me only giggled and nuzzled deeper into the crook of your neck. A true momma’s boy. From inside, more laughter echoed, and Cassian appeared around the corner, grinning wide as he carried your daughter—upside down—by her ankles. Her delighted shrieks filled the house.

“Cassian!” you called, trying to suppress a laugh.

“What? She loves it!” Cassian shot back, clearly pleased with himself.

“Put her down,” you said, stepping inside as Azriel snorted behind you.

Cassian finally relented, lowering her to the ground. She didn’t hesitate, darting forward to wrap her arms around Azriel. She barely reached his hip, and he crouched slightly, holding her close like it was second nature.

“Sorry we’re late,” you said, closing the door. You wiped your shoes on the matt below you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nesta’s voice said, drifting into the room before she rounded the corner from the kitchen. Her hair was in a loose bun, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She stopped at Cassian’s side, offering her husband a small nudge. “Our date nights always run late too.”

Her daughter trailed behind her, blue eyes already half-rolling. "Yeah. We need to talk about punctuality in this family."

She breezed past you and Azriel, offering you both quick hello’s before darting up the stairs.

Nesta rolled her eyes, but the action was affectionate. Comfortable. “Teenagers,” she muttered. Cassian slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. “She’s going through a phase.”

“Heard that!” came a sharp voice from upstairs.

You stifled a laugh, glancing at Azriel. His eyes widened slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a crooked, almost reluctant smile—amused, exasperated, and entirely Azriel.

Nesta gestured toward your son, now half-asleep against your shoulder, and your daughter, who was eagerly tugging Azriel toward the living room to show off the fort her and Cassian had made. “Enjoy this,” Nesta said with a smirk. “While it lasts.”

A dreamy smile spread across your face as you watched them. “Oh, Nes,” you said softly. “I plan to enjoy it all.”

The room seemed to shimmer, the sounds of laughter melting into something darker, quieter. 

And then, without warning, the world changed.

Cold. Hollow. Dark.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“God, you look beautiful.”

You turned to Azriel, breathless, a wicked grin pulling at your lips. His golden-hazel eyes burned as they swept over you, lingering on the streaks of blood splattered across your cheek. 

“You really think so?” you hummed, stepping closer, boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the floor. The room reeked of iron and fear, the man slumped against the wall choking on his last breaths.

Azriel tilted his head, his shadows twisting and curling at his feet like they were alive, waiting for a command. “I’d argue you’ve never looked more stunning.”

Your grin grew, something divinely sinful, and you pulled the gun from the back of your waistband. The barrel gleamed in the dim light. “Would you like the honors, my love?”

Azriel’s hand brushed yours as he took the gun— perfectly smooth skin speckled in streaks of red. “Of course.”

The man whimpered as Azriel crouched before him, his shadows licking at the edges of the room, swallowing the light. You didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as Azriel tilted the man’s chin with the barrel, his voice low and almost tender. You seemed proud, even. Powerful.

“You should’ve known better.”

With a single, swift pull of the trigger, it was over. Azriel stood, wiping the gun against his pants before turning back to you.

“The others are all yours,” he murmured, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, smearing blood across your temple.

“And they said romance was dead,” you said, leaning into his touch.

Azriel grinned, and for a moment, the bloodlust that had overtaken the room seemed to fade. He pulled you close, lips crashing onto yours in a brutal, animalistic kiss. When you finally pulled away, breathless and wild, Azriel’s gaze was sharp—hungry. His eyes gleamed with something darker now.

“You’re the only one who ever understands,” he whispered.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“Elain?”

Elain gasped and snapped back to the present, her body slightly recoiling like a thread once strung tight. She blinked and turned her head, watching the beautiful face of her mate come into focus. His eyes were fixed on her, that familiar gleam in them.

“Hmm?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Where did you just disappear to?” 

Lucien’s hand gently swept her curly hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, and allowed his palm to settle there— fingers brushing lightly against her skin, thumb grazing the underside of her jaw. Elain melted into the touch. 

The remnants of her vision— of that twisted, vicious kiss between you and Azriel– still lingered at the edges of her mind, making her uneasy. But it was already fading, like a bad dream melting away in the morning light, as she looked at Lucien. The warmth of his touch steadied her, grounding her back into the reality of this life— something far less terrifying, far more full of light. Elain let her mind wander to the other thing she’d seen, to the cicada songs and the mistletoe. 

“Let me tell you later.”

Lucien’s smile softened in that kind way that made Elain’s heart feel full, like it might spill over.  “Alright,” he said.

“Oh, Elain, Lucien!”

Your voice broke the quiet, pulling their attention toward you as you approached, Azriel in tow. His shadows moved faster than he did, twisting around you in fluid motions, draping themselves over your limbs like they were part of you instead of the shadowsinger himself.

“Have you been here for long?” You asked as you met them at the doorway. “I’m so sorry we didn’t notice. We were in our own world.”

Azriel greeted her and Lucien with a small smile. But, as usual, his eyes drifted to you immediately, brightening in their glow as he watched you.

“No, no,” Lucien answered, noticing Elain hadn’t responded yet. “We were just making our rounds.”

You beamed. “Well, you should take some time in here. It’s beautiful.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Elain said softly.

You shook your head, glancing at Azriel for a moment before you leaned into him, placing a hand on his chest and giving it a light tap. “We’re actually about to leave. We’ve got reservations for our anniversary.”

“What does today mark?” Lucien asked.

Azriel’s voice was light as he wrapped an arm around you. “430 years.” 

“Can you believe he’s put up with me that long?” you said, a teasing smile on your lips.

Lucien laughed. “I’d say its the other way around.”

Azriel laughed, then, too, rolling his eyes in a way that seemed so brotherly that Elain’s smile almost split her cheeks in two.

“You’re meant for one another,” Elain found herself saying. “Happy anniversary.”

Azriel nodded in thanks as you smiled and moved to leave. He patted Lucien’s shoulder as he brushed past, and Elain let her gaze linger on your retreating forms for a moment, catching another small moment as Az cheekily smacked your ass, causing you to let out a small amused shriek and push him away.

For a moment, Elain was almost tempted to ask Lucien the same question you’d asked Azriel: Do you think we’re together in each life? But it was silly– fruitless, really. Because Elain knew, with certainty, that she’d find her loyal, flame-branded mate in every universe. In every form.

She’d seen it herself. 

So instead, Elain grabbed his hand, interlaced their fingers, and said, “Let’s admire our world.”

And as always, Lucien followed her without protest. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note:

I had a vision (tehehe) of this one shot and i dont think i did it justice but alas, here she is. also are you truly soulmates if you arent evil sociopathic villains in at least one universe? me thinks no

also fun fact, 5/6 of these au’s are scrapped ideas i’ve had🫣

thank you for reading <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻 (this so desperately needs to be updated, i fear): 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @paradisebabey

azriel tag list🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits 

[rafecameronssl4t]

i’m actually obsessed with all your works pls i need more ceo!rafe and sweetheart!reader, maybe something with their kids??? you’re actually amazing 🙇‍♀️

Office visit || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request xx

Warnings: use of daddy and mommy but not in a sexual way ���

Word count: 2,002

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

“What do you boys want to do after this?” you ask, glancing back at Luca and Kai as they focus on their ice creams. The two of them sit on the edge of the bench outside the tennis club, still buzzing with energy after their lesson. The faint scent of sunscreen lingers, and their flushed cheeks tell the story of a morning well spent.

Kai pauses mid-bite, his little tongue darting out to catch a melting drip before it slides down his cone. His brows knit in concentration as he thinks, his chocolate-streaked fingers almost comically poised. Luca, always the quieter of the two, finishes his bite and watches his brother, waiting to see what he’ll suggest.

You reach over and smooth Kai’s tousled hair, the strands damp from sweat and the summer heat. “What about…” you trail off, pulling your phone from your bag to check the time. It’s just past noon, and an idea sparks. “How about we go and see Daddy at his office for lunch?”

Both boys instantly straighten, their eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Yes!” they exclaim in perfect unison, their voices loud enough to draw amused glances from a passing couple. Kai bounces slightly in his seat, and Luca’s smile stretches wide, making your heart melt.

“Alright, finish up your ice creams first, and then I’ll make a quick call to see if he’s free,” you say, chuckling at their eagerness. You bend down to zip up their small tennis bags, tucking away their water bottles and rackets. Their names are embroidered neatly on the sides of their bags, a gift from Rafe when they started lessons last year.

Sliding your phone out again, you scroll to Rafe’s assistant, Rachael, and hit call. It barely rings once before her bright, professional voice answers. “Hi, Mrs. Cameron! How are you?” “Hi, Rachael,” you greet warmly, stepping a little away from the boys, who are now energetically debating whether they should bring Daddy a surprise snack. “Does Rafe have any meetings or calls in the next hour or so? The boys want to see him, and I thought we could bring lunch.”

“Let me check for you,” Rachael replies. You can hear the soft tapping of keys as she looks at his schedule. “You’re in luck—he’s free until 2 p.m. today!” “Perfect,” you reply with a relieved smile, already picturing Rafe’s reaction. “We’ll be there soon. Thanks, Rachael.” “Of course! See you soon,” she says, and you hang up, sliding the phone back into your bag.

Turning back to Luca and Kai, you find them eagerly finishing their ice creams, their little legs swinging excitedly beneath the bench. “Okay, it’s all set. Daddy’s free, so we’re heading to his office. But first, wipe those sticky hands!” you tease, handing them some napkins. They giggle as they clean up, practically bouncing with excitement as they climb into the backseat of the car.

You secure their tennis bags in the boot and slide into the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see their gleaming faces. As you pull out of the car park, their excited chatter fills the car. “Do you think Daddy will let us sit at his desk like last time?” Kai asks. “Maybe we can help him work!” Luca chimes in, his voice hopeful.

You laugh, your heart full as you drive toward Rafe’s office. “Let’s see how much work Daddy gets done with you two around,” you joke, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought of surprising him with his two biggest fans.

~

The second you parked your car in the reserved spot beside Rafe’s sleek black car, Luca and Kai were out of their seats in a flash. “Wait for me!” you called, though you already knew your words would be ignored. You watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation as the two bolted toward the glass sliding doors, their laughter echoing through the underground parking lot.

“No running inside, please!” you called after them, quickly grabbing your bag and locking the car. Your heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement as you hurried to catch up. By the time you reached the doors, Steve, the ever-friendly security guard stationed by the front entrance, was already greeting them. “Well, hello, Luca and Kai!” he said with a broad smile, his weathered face lighting up at the sight of the energetic boys.

“Hi, Steve!” they chorused, their voices loud and cheerful before they darted further into the building. You reached Steve just in time to catch his amused chuckle. “And hello to you, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted warmly, his tone respectful yet familiar. “Hi, Steve,” you replied with a smile, placing a light hand on his arm. “How’s Margaret doing?” you asked, genuinely curious about his wife.

“She’s doing well, thank you,” Steve replied with a proud nod, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “That’s wonderful to hear,” you said softly, offering a kind smile before glancing ahead to see Luca and Kai at the front desk, already reaching for the small bowl of lollies. “I’d better catch up with them before they cause too much trouble. See you later, Steve!”

“Have a good visit, Mrs. Cameron,” he called after you with a wave as you made your way inside. The front desk staff greeted you with bright smiles as you approached. “Hello, Mrs. Cameron!” Jake, one of the receptionists, said cheerfully. You chuckled softly, smoothing Luca’s hair as he eagerly unwrapped a lollipop. “I hope these two aren’t bothering you too much,” you joked.

“Not at all,” Jake replied with a grin, glancing down at the boys. “They always bring a little extra energy to the office.”“Well, that they do,” you said, shaking your head fondly as Kai offered Jake a gummy bear from his stash. “Alright, boys, let’s not take all the lollies.” Luca and Kai quickly popped the last of their treats into their mouths and followed you toward the elevator, their small feet pattering against the polished floors.

As the elevator arrived, a group of Rafe’s staff stepped out, their chatter pausing as they noticed you and the boys. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cameron,” one of them greeted, while another bent down to fist bump Luca and Kai. “Good afternoon,” you replied, nodding politely as the boys giggled, clearly thrilled by the attention.

You guided them into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where Rafe’s office was located. The doors closed, and the boys glanced up at you, their excitement bubbling over. “Do you think Daddy will be surprised?” Luca asked, his voice full of anticipation.

“I think he’ll be very happy to see you,” you assured them, adjusting the strap of your bag as the elevator hummed softly. As the elevator ascended, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, already picturing the look on Rafe’s face when he saw his two little boys storming into his office like it was theirs.

~

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the sleek, modern design of Rafe’s executive floor. The expansive space was quiet, save for the faint hum of activity from his staff in the open office areas. Luca and Kai immediately bolted out of the elevator, their small sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floors as they made a beeline for Rafe’s corner office.

“Boys, wait!” you called, your voice firm but amused as you followed them at a brisk pace, your heels clicking against the floor. You exchanged polite smiles and greetings with passing employees, most of whom glanced at the boys with fond amusement. It wasn’t the first time Luca and Kai had stormed through these halls like a whirlwind.

By the time you reached Rafe’s office, the boys had already pushed the heavy door open just enough to slip inside. You caught up just in time to see them racing toward Rafe’s large mahogany desk. Rafe was seated behind it, his brow furrowed as he reviewed a stack of papers. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the sharp lines of his face, but the moment he heard the familiar sound of his sons’ excited giggles, his head snapped up.

“Daddy!” Luca and Kai shouted in unison, running around the desk to get to him. Rafe’s expression softened instantly, his serious demeanour melting away as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, what’s this?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile. He opened his arms just in time for the boys to climb onto his lap, their chatter filling the room.

“We came to surprise you!” Kai exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around Rafe’s neck. “Did you now?” Rafe replied, his tone warm as he ruffled Kai’s hair. He glanced over the boys’ heads to see you standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on your face as you watched the scene unfold. “And you brought reinforcements, I see.”

You chuckled, stepping further into the room. “They insisted. It was either this or trying to sneak into your meetings.” “Good call,” Rafe said with a smirk, shifting Luca onto his other knee. “You two behaving for Mommy?” Luca nodded earnestly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes made Rafe arch a brow. “Mostly,” you teased, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“Mostly?” Rafe echoed, giving them both a mock stern look that made Kai giggle. “We were good, Daddy!” Kai insisted, throwing his arms out dramatically. “I’ll take your word for it,” Rafe replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Kai’s head before glancing at you. “Thank you for bringing them. This is the best kind of interruption.”

“They wanted to see you,” you said softly, your heart warming at the sight of Rafe with the boys. “And they may have bribed the front desk staff with gummy bears on the way up.” Rafe laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the office. “Sounds about right. So, what’s the plan now, little troublemakers?” “Lunch with you!” Luca declared, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Lunch, huh?” Rafe looked between them, feigning thought. “Well, I think I can make that happen. What do you guys feel like eating?” “Pizza!” Kai shouted, while Luca chimed in with, “Burgers!” Rafe glanced at you, his grin widening. “Guess we’re having both.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call get Rachael to call the kitchen while you catch up with your boys.”

As you stepped aside to make the call, you couldn’t help but glance back at them—Rafe, with his arms full of Luca and Kai, looking more at ease than you’d seen him in weeks. Moments like these made all the chaos worthwhile.

[rafesweetie]

need a jealous bsf!rafe x reader where he is possessive and doesn’t want other guys touching her even though he touches other girls, so she is basically over it and at a party, she dances on another guy and he gets mad

౨ৎ in which bsf!rafe just can’t help wanting to protect you.

you were done with rafe cameron. you’ve decided it. he was your best friend, sure, but he was controlling, mean, overly protective, and he acted like he owned you or something. so you were completely done with him, forever.

this is the third time you’ve promised yourself that, and news flash — you never dropped him.

it wasn’t your fault, you try to tell yourself every time. he just wouldn’t let you leave him, shutting you up whenever you’d even try and be reasonable with him, yelling louder than you or slamming his palm over your mouth. but a little part of you knows that you like the attention. you like that rafe cares so much about you, even if it does ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend. today is the day that you break the pattern though, and rebel against his constant authority.

parties are where rafe thrives. he’s like a celebrity, it always wonders you how much people love him. during parties, he keeps less of an eye on you, assuming you’re just busy gossiping with your friends. but little does he know, you’ve found a boy — it wasn’t often you’d get the opportunity to chat with a boy that wasn’t rafe, and you were loving every second of it. you felt so free from your friend’s gaze, listening to the boy talk, his deep voice vibrating your brain.

but the issue was, the boy was boring. he didn’t talk about cool things, like dirtbikes or his life or death adventures or money. you hated to say it, but he just wasn’t rafe. your mind kept flashing back to him, how much more you smile and enjoy his company. maybe rafe was right. you just didn’t need boys when you have him.

you’re so close to excusing yourself from the boy, going back to rafe’s arm and giggling with him and talking with your faces really close together. you glance back to where he is, ready to retreat, until you see it. you see her.

you’re not sure who she is, but she bothers you. her hair is so gorgeous and healthy, and you can’t see her face from behind but she must be gorgeous. her arm is on rafe’s bicep — your bicep, the one you always hang onto while you’re walking with rafe. you hate that you’re jealous. rafe’s your friend, not your boyfriend, you have no reason to be. but it’s like you can’t control it, your rage, and before you know it, you’re blinking back any potential tears and touching on this boy — this stranger — like there’s no tomorrow. tyla is blasting through the speakers, and yours and these boy’s hands are all over each other’s bodies. you really hope rafe sees you like this, drunk off the smirnoff pink lemonades and enjoying another mans company.

it really doesn’t take long for him to notice. he’s so predictable. shrugging the girls hand off of him, rushing over to his dear friend to get her away from this lowlife.

usually he’d reason with you. coax you away from the boy nicely and lecture you. but he’d had a few beers and a line of coke and he was in no mood for politeness. a rough hand pushes the boy away by the chest, and rafe isn’t muttering a word to anyone, grabbing your wrist and stomping away with you stumbling behind.

he pushes you into a spare bedroom, the first private place he could find. sitting you on the edge of the bed, he starts pacing in front of you and rubbing his face as if this was hurting his head. it’s like your brain flicks a switch, back to “rafe rafe rafe” as you’re sat there with tears brimming your eyes, fiddling with your manicure as you bat your eyelashes up at him, remembering the girl flirting with him, and now you making him mad, and now he’s got you in a puddle of guilt.

“shit— it’s like, you never do what i say, huh?” he mutters, still pacing. “you know i do everything to protect you, kid. you even know who that fuckin’ guy was? no, m’sure you don’t, cause you don’t think. thought by now my voice would be in your pretty head, there to help you make some smart decisions every once in a while. but nah, nah, you see one other boy and it’s back to square one with you,”

you go to speak, glossy lips parting, but he shuts you up with a quick “no”, and stopping pacing to go kneel in front of you.

“everything i do — for you, okay? for you. my girl,” he often calls you that, it makes you weak every time. he grabs your hands. “stop fiddling, paid for this polish.” you stop instantly. “i know— i know you think that my protectiveness is, uh, stupid, but i need to be like this, or you’re gonna get hurt. i know you, baby. i need to be all over you for you to even have a slight awareness to not do stupid things. so i do take some ownership over you in that sense—“

you cut him off, muttering a, “don’t want you to take ownership.”

he huffs. “yeah, but i do, so…” he shrugs. “you’re mine. my friend, my girl. so i don’t like it when someone else touches my girl, or when you’re the one intiating it. makes me so fuckin’ angry, kid, makes me wanna, like—“ he cuts himself off. “so i need you to knock it off.”

you wanna argue so badly, but your brain turns to mush around him. so you sniffle and nod hesitantly.

“no, i want a ‘yes rafe.’ need your words.”

“i just think that—“ you try.

he cuts you off. “yes rafe. say it with me.”

“..yes, rafe.” you both say.

he squeezes your hands and gets up. “yeah, there you go, good girl. now do you, uh, need a minute, fix your makeup, or d’you wanna go back down there and hang out with me?”

your hand goes to his bicep as you stand up with him, and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “wanna go with you,” you say softly, leaning into him a bit.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.”

[scented-morker]

Lovesick fools

Alternatively… enha’s reaction to being on a variety show with their idol!crush

No warnings, 2k words, implied fem!reader.. these took me forever </3

Heeseung

Fourth gen vocalists on the show ‼️

He was so excited to be there that he totally forgot you would def be there too

Until he was getting his makeup done and you walked in with curlers in your hair and coffees in your hand

He immediately found himself smiling at how cute you looked, and it only got worse when you handed him a cup

"Twitter said this was your order, I hope it's right."

The makeup artist starts laughing and opts out of putting blush on him bc he's all red from you

Once filming starts you all sing a prepared cover, and he's so focused on his own that he stays calm for most of it

Except yours is last, which means his mind is fully empty since he’s done and now all he’s able to focus on is how pretty you sound and the way you smile through the words

You sing 'drinks or coffee' from rose's new album and he swears you wink at him

"We don't have to talk, I know that you want me."

Twitter goes crazy bc you absolutely did wink at him, and they have the slow mo replay to prove it

Him blushing like mad also goes viral

He walks up to you backstage

"So... do you want to get drinks or coffee?" 🤭

Jay

It's shuhua's show again, but instead of sunghoon he's paired up with you

Bro gives himself a pep talk in the mirror before filming starts

"You are cool and calm and will not giggle like a school girl at her. Shes going to look pretty and you're just gonna have to deal with it."

Thinks it should be illegal to look good in a work uniform, but there you are

You guys are cooking and you're so impressed by how well he does at separating the fat from the meat

You are so horribly bad at it that Shuhua looks like an expert 💔💔

"Jay I think you need to help her, she's massacring the product."

Ok girl are you a host or a wingman

But he does, telling you to adjust your grip on the knife, reaching over to show you how to do it better which has you blushing like crazy

You guys are partnered up trying to give away samples against shuhua which is where you shine bc people just can't stay away from you especially when you pout and ask 'pretty please?'

Jay doesn't blame them, he's ready to buy everything in the store from you

One of the girls doesn't bat an eye at you when you beg but you're desperate so you yell after her

"Look how handsome my partner is, don't you want to come buy something from us?"

The girl comes back but Jay can't even be flattered bc he's too busy freaking out that you think he's cute

"Did you really mean that?" He asks you after filming

"Of course I did, I'm not blind."

So he asks for your number and ofc you give it to him

Jake

It’s some sort of school setting show

You guys are paired up against Jay and another member of your group as the four of you compete with trivia questions

You’re all English speakers, so they make you answer everything in English and since we’re already being delulu let’s say you have an English accent bc we know Jake loves that

You have to yell at him to lock in because when you start trying to reason out the question he’s so focused on your voice that he isn’t listening to a word you say

You guys are getting whooped by the other team

That is until your member makes a joke about you saying how your ideal type is a smart guy

Bro instantly locks tf in

“October 23rd, 2016”

“That is correct! Team Hot Accents gets another point as they make an impressive comeback!”

Yes that’s your team name, you both have hot accents and you know it 🤷‍♀️

You get so excited every time you guys score a point that you’re practically bouncing in your seat cheering and giving him high fives

You answer a few questions after that but he’s definitely carrying you guys and he could not be happier about it

“Don’t worry y/n, I got you. Just sit there and look pretty.” 😍

By the end you guys are tied and the hosts ask you to give your partner a good luck charm as he and Jay face off for the last question

You contemplate kissing his cheek before realizing that would probably get you murdered on twitter so you settle for giving his hand a squeeze after interlocking your fingers post high five

When he gets the question right he runs over and picks you up to spin you around in celebration

The editors definitely put some incriminating caption like [a very overexcited reaction from the golden retriever] that fans laugh at him for afterwards

But he doesn’t care bc you were in his arms and that’s all that matters ‼️

After filming you’re like “wow Jake you’re so smart do you want to hang out sometime?”

YEP YEP YEP YES HE DOES

Sunghoon

You guys were both ex figure skaters, so they had you guys film an episode at a rink

They got both of you a new version of one of your old costumes, and sunghoon was immediately red at the sight of you in the sparkling dress with a little cut out on the side

You both spent the first few minutes just running around on the ice, enjoying being back

The hosts had a list of skills they read out and then made each of you try

It only made sunghoon's crush bigger watching you move so gracefully, and he grinned so big whenever you'd compliment him

"Woah, he's still really good!"

Towards the end they had you try partner moves, everyone cheering when you guys synced up so well in the turns and twists

“Woah they look really good together! It’s like fate they move at the exact same time!”

They even let you try a stunt, and sunghoon became a stuttering mess when he put his hand on your waist where the cut out in your costume was

"Is- is this ok? I don't want to drop you, but we could skip it if you want."

"Of course it's ok!"

He's so touched at the amount of trust you put in him while trying out partner tricks

And it's rightfully placed considering the time you guys mess up he makes sure to change the angle of your fall so that he takes the brunt of the impact instead of of you

You apologize so many times, including going up to him after filming to thank him again

"Is there anything I can do to thank you?"

"How about a date?"

Sunoo

Who knows why the show paired you guys up

Maybe they saw the media attention from your brief waves to each other at an award show and the viral ‘bite me’ challenge you did together

But they bring both of you to a cafe set and you have to make coffees and such before being interviewed

You’d worked at a coffee shop predebut so at one point you reach over and grab his hand to adjust the way he holds the cup under the milk steamer

The editors zoom in on his red face while you turn around and practically sprint away

Your last task before the interview is to make a drink for the other person while they film a confessional about you

You’re sitting there stuttering over your words as an explanation as to why you ran after helping him earlier and how kind he was when you filmed your tiktok together last time

Meanwhile, sunoo is asking the staff for help to make your super specific and stupidly difficult drink order that he knows from watching your interviews

He pretends it was casual and easy once he joins you at the table, setting the cup down in front of you like he didn’t restart it 3 times

“This is my favorite coffee!! I didn’t even remember them teaching us this!”

“Wow that’s so weird, lucky me I guess”

He tried to be nonchalant but it was NOT working

He literally lets out a giggle as soon as you drink it and do a little happy dance when it’s exactly how you like

When the interviewer asks about your relationship (bringing up the award show wave) Sunoo says that you guys are casual friends but he hopes you can become closer after filming together

To which you respond ABSOLUTELY and promise to wave at him at every schedule you see him

That’s enough for his weak heart for one day so he doesn’t end up following up after the cameras stopped

but you kept your promise and after a few months of excited waves and animated conversations at award shows he secures your number and a date

Jungwon

He’s too responsible to risk anything by talking about his crush on you but once in a live you said you really admired him because you couldn’t imagine having to lead your group while being one of the youngest members

(He saved the video and probably replayed it about fifty times afterwards)

But that was enough to make one of the shows want you guys together !!

Which is how you end up trailing behind him through a creepy dark building while scare actors try to freak you guys out

Bro was not excited for this but he is doing his best bc YOU NEED HIM ‼️

You are so close to his back that he can feel your body heat and when someone jumps out you practically climb on his back

You apologize profusely afterwards, but he waves it off, offering you his arm to grasp onto for the rest of the time

You say in a confessional part that you were scared out of your mind but it was bearable bc Jungwon was there

“He was so brave and cool, it made me feel so much better!”

He isn’t even scared anymore, he’s just mad bc they’re intentionally making you upset so his cute angry face pops out and the two of you make it through the whole haunted house in record time

Afterwards he tells you that he hopes he wasn’t mean or anything, he was just upset they were scaring you

He was mad at them for doing their jobs 💔 rip

But that just made you appreciate him more

“Can I treat you to lunch one day? To thank you for taking such good care of me?”

He MELTS, of course you can

Riki

You and him were both on a variety show to show the difference between maknaes

He was the image of a cool and mature maknae, while you were the giggly pink maknae of your group

He thought it was gonna be awkward bc the whole point of the show was how different you guys were, but you got along so easily

As soon as you started talking he was a GONER

He'd watch you answer a question and get so distracted looking at your face that the hosts would have to repeat the question for him to respond to after 😭

So much for being cool

They ask him how he feels about aegyo to which he describes how passionately he hates it

So they make you do aegyo for him to see if he reacts

HE DOES

Homeboy starts blushing without even realizing it

It puts the biggest smile on his face that they tease him about for the rest of the show

You tell him you'll give him lessons in it if he wants while live and that's how he approaches you after

"You probably need my number to set up those lessons right?"

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[r3starttt]

STOCKINGS

PAIRING: Abby x Reader

SUMMARY: You made her a stocking

CW: tlou universe. sfw. fluff. lev included!! cs Abby is such a boy mom and ughh cute.

NOTE: For this fic Abby did not try to go and look for the fireflies again so the last fight with Ellie did not happen.

*Can you tell I love acts of service... can you tell I wrote this while listening to music for indigo...

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @lott6i @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

The cold floor hit your bare feet as you tiptoed your way toward a small chair near the bed, reaching for an old hoodie to shield yourself from the chill. Abby was still asleep, her steady breathing and quiet snoring letting you know she was deeply wrapped in the comfort of her cocoon. You didn’t have much time, though—she would wake the second the bed grew too cold and her arm could no longer find you, desperately pulling you closer to warm herself.

She lay on her stomach, one arm draped across the mattress, reaching into the warmth you’d left behind. The white sheet beneath her, its soft folds matching the pine-green ones above, held her gently. Loose strands of hair from her thick braid fell against the sides of her face, barely brushing her skin with each soft exhale. Her eyebrows, usually so bold, were peacefully soft, and her lips—plump and rosy—mirrored the flush of her cheeks. You couldn’t resist leaving a soft kiss near her ear, a gentle touch before you left the room.

Each step toward the door made you regret not putting on socks last night—maybe Abby’s old slippers would do. With your steps now messy and hesitant, you made your way downstairs. The worn wood creaked slightly beneath you, the house itself groaning in the quiet of the morning.

You had eventually made yourselves comfortable in this small house nestled in the heart of the woods, large enough for the three of you—Abby, Lev, and yourself. Together, you had worked tirelessly to make it a safe and secure place, not just from the infected, but from other, more dangerous people. You had made it a home.

You ensured that everyone felt welcome, particularly Lev. You took every opportunity to talk with him, to teach him what he hadn’t yet learned, and to share the things you loved—books, music, art—while helping him discover his own interests. And with Abby, your love deepened with every day she returned from her small patrols, always bringing back something for Lev—a plushie or a trinket—and for you, perhaps a new vinyl to play. She would ask you to show her the record, and later, you would listen together, the soothing classical music filling the house while you shared a quiet dinner.

As the months passed and your future materialized in the present, you found yourself gathering small gifts. It would be Lev��s first holiday, and Abby’s too, at least with you. The first time you would all celebrate Christmas together. You wanted it to be special, a way of thanking them for everything they had done for you. All the words Lev had shared when he realized you were just as broken as he was, and how, despite it all, he allowed you into his life. And Abby—your way of giving her the love she had always shown you, in the form of the most precious gift.

You knew Abby would appreciate it—celebrating the season was something she had learned from her father. She had told you once that receiving a gift was the way she could feel loved, a reminder that she was not a monster. And you wanted to show her that—wanted to remind her that she was seen, that she was loved, and that you all had each other.

Since the weather had turned colder, you’d offered to join in the patrols, even begging Abby to let you go outside. She always insisted it was too dangerous, but you knew you could take care of yourself, and somehow, you managed to sneak out on occasion. You gathered small things—some fabric, trinkets, and a few essentials. And when Abby took Lev to care for the animals you’d gathered, or when she napped after lunch, you’d use your quiet time to craft their gifts.

It wasn’t too difficult, given that they were often busy—Abby tending to the animals or decorating the little pine tree you’d dragged home from the nearby woods, with Abby’s approval, of course. You had to be careful, though, not to trust too easily that they would be distracted. But it worked.

The sight before you made your stomach flutter, like a child eager with excitement. Three stockings hung from the mantle, each chosen with care—yours in the middle. Beneath the homemade tree, a few gifts waited for everyone—unwrapped, because there wasn’t enough paper, but neatly arranged, placed with care just as the stockings were.

The next task was to light the fire, to warm the house and prepare breakfast, just as you had for months. It was small, but it had become part of your routine—after all, lunch and dinner were a family affair, something you all shared.

Once the food was ready, you made your way upstairs. The light from the cloudy sun streamed through the windows, warming the house with its yellow hues. You returned to the bed, noting that Abby was still asleep—though not for long, it seemed, as her lips were slightly parted and her breathing had shifted into quiet mumbling. You sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and brushing the stray hairs from her face before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Abby... Abs—baby?" you murmured, tracing soft circles on her back, the rhythm calming her as her mumbling slowed.

"Abby..."

Her eyes opened slowly, clearly disoriented by the nightmare and the sudden waking, but you were quick to soothe her. "Shh, I’m here... It’s alright. You were dreaming."

She grasped your hand, groaning quietly before turning to face you, her face flushed with the softness of sleep, her lips plump and cheeks full. The sight made you smile, warmth blooming in your chest.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured, trying to pull you back into bed.

You chuckled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Not yet..."

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Is Lev awake yet?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she rubbed her eyes.

"I haven’t checked, but... probably not," you hummed in response, pausing to study her, to savor this moment of quiet contentment with the woman you loved. A slow, peaceful morning like this was a dream come true for many—and here you were, living it.

"Breakfast’s ready," you added, patting her stomach lightly.

You leaned in for a kiss, despite her typical aversion to those unshowered, still-groggy moments. But you couldn’t care less—she was the woman you loved, in all her unrefined beauty, even in these fleeting moments.

"See you downstairs, alright?" you murmured, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

She nodded, but you knew her well.

"Abigail... I’m serious."

She laughed quietly, rolling over and letting her arms fall to her sides as she stretched out. You left the door open as you moved to the curtains, letting the light in while ensuring Abby wouldn’t fall asleep again. You then made your way to Lev’s room, the blue walls of his space greeting you.

He was tangled in blankets, his back to you, but you gently brushed his shoulder, calling out in a soft whisper.

"Lev... morning."

"Morning," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

You smiled, the privilege of caring for this young boy—who still had so much ahead of him—filling your heart.

"Breakfast is ready, alright? Take your time." You caressed his shoulder before stepping out of his room, hearing Abby’s groan as she dramatically climbed from the bed.

"Did you take my shoes?" she called out loudly, too much for the quiet of the morning.

"Yep! I took your slippers," you teased, and Abby laughed quietly in response. She was falling in love with you all over again.

You went downstairs, retracing your steps from earlier, and settled on the couch, waiting for them to come down. Neither of them knew about the stockings or the gifts—it was supposed to be a small, intimate gesture, a simple way of celebrating the season. Just making food together, exchanging small self-made gifts—maybe a letter.

But as much as you were excited, there was a hint of anxiety too. What if it was too much? What if they didn’t like what you had chosen?

"What is that?" Abby’s voice broke you from your thoughts, and you turned to find her standing at the foot of the stairs, still in her pajamas, holding the railing for support.

Her eyes, illuminated in the soft morning light, met yours—she looked so precious.

"Did you seriously make us a stocking?" she whispered, so amused she barely seemed to believe it. Maybe she thought she was still dreaming.

"I did," you said, standing and moving toward her.

"You told me once that you wished someone loved you enough to make you one. I do... I love you."

The words hit her, and you watched as she fought back tears, her jaw clenching, her teeth biting at her bottom lip before she looked back at you.

"I didn’t... Come here." She opened her arms, and you stepped into them, feeling the weight of the moment settle in.

She buried her face in your neck, wrapping her arms around you as all her emotions—fear, love, anxiety—washed over her.

You were real, and so was this. She had someone who listened, who remembered her words, who cared enough to create something special—something that said, "I love you."

And as much as she feared that this day might bring painful memories of her father, the love that surrounded her now was taking up more space. This was hers—this love was real, and it was for her.

You felt Lev coming downstairs, his confused expression slowly softening as understanding spread across his face. You had told him about the stockings, explained what they meant one evening when you and Abby had talked about Christmas traditions.

Lev hesitated, cradling the fabric of the stocking in his hands. He peeked inside, then looked up at you for reassurance. With a nod from you, he carefully pulled out each gift, his eyes brightening with quiet joy.

There was nothing extravagant or meaningful in the traditional sense—but the gifts held things they liked, things they could use, things they wanted. They weren’t

about purpose, but about love. They were a reminder that you saw them, that you loved them, and that they were always safe in your arms.

[cod-dump]

Just the idea of Captain MacMillan casually turning up on Price’s base wanting to check up on Price, because that man will forever be a child in his eyes, and instead running into every other possible person.

And every single one of them snitches on Price about something reckless or dangerous he has done since Mac came around the last time. All of them have something different to report on too.

Safe to say, Price received an hour long lecture on his behaviour.

The air was off the moment he arrived on base.

The hair on his arms pricked up and several times there was a shiver that made him shake. He had eyes on him as he walked to his office and by the time he got there he was on edge. Something was screaming at him when he stood in front of his door.

"Oh fuck this," he growled to himself before he opened the door.

"There's the bastard. Welcome back!"

Price froze, eyes widening as he saw fucking Mac sitting in his chair. He stood there at the door long enough for the man to scoff.

"Waiting for permission to enter your office?"

Price cleared his throat and stepped inside, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my old stomping grounds. Glad that you have yet to burn it down."

Price fake laughs, dropping his work bag on his desk, "Thought something was off, felt a shift in the air."

It was Mac's turn to laugh, but it was genuine. Retirement had a way of mellowing a bastard like MacMillan. He was already married by the time he made the decision to retire, had two sons. But, as he had joked plenty of times before, he always had to have an eye on the eldest.

"Been here three days."

Price felt his blood run cold, "You've what?"

"Kate has really grown into that boldness quite well. Though she knows now how to hold her tongue."

Of course she's involved. Price could see it in Mac's eyes that he had plenty to say to him. Three days on base while Price was still on leave? He was scared to know what all the boys had said to their "grand-captain".

"First off: An American? Really?"

Price immediately turned on his heel to run out the door. He managed to open the door and step out the office before he ran into a familiar chest. Nik had his mouth open, ready to say something, then he saw Mac. Needless to say he was equally horrified to see the man.

"I still haven't gotten to liking this one!"

Price didn't need to say anything for Nik to agree to retreat with him.

---

"I was expecting a more... immediate response."

"Old man probably locked him in the office and is giving him a ear full."

Soap laughed as Ghost kept his binoculars trained on the building where Price was no doubtedly reliving his younger, more mischievous years. The shades were down but Ghost still watched in hopes of getting a glimpse of something.

Gaz had returned with snacks and Ghost was considering giving it a rest to enjoy some crisps when the front door of the building flung open. Price and Nik running full speed out was everything.

"Get the camera- GET THE FUCKING CAMERA-"

Laswell had a delightful video to watch later, after she had the most hysterical phonecall that she's had with Price in years.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Little One's || Damian Wayne ||

A/n: Dad Damian 🥹

Late evening in the Wayne penthouse, the living room is softly lit by the glow of the Christmas tree, its lights twinkling warmly still set up much to Damian's chargin. The remnants of the day’s activities are scattered around half-empty mugs of cocoa, toys strewn about, and a blanket crumpled on the couch. You are fast asleep, curled up under the blanket, your breathing slow and peaceful.The twins, however, are still awake, their quiet babbling filling the room as they play on the floor with their stuffed toys. Damian sits nearby in his favorite chair, keeping a watchful eye on them.

Shifting his body, Damian then looks over at you, his expression softening as he takes in the sight of your sleeping form. You look so peaceful, your hair falling over your shoulder, your hand resting on the edge of the blanket. He knows how much you've done today,how you always give you it all for your little family. A rare, small smile tugs at his lips as he thinks about how much you mean to him.

“Your mother,” he murmurs quietly to the twins, “is extraordinary.”

Leo, holding his toy truck, looks up at Damian with wide green eyes that mirror his father’s. Lila, clutching her bunny, toddles closer to Damian, babbling something unintelligible but sweet.

Damian leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches them. “Come here, Lila,” he says softly, his voice gentle.

Lila waddles over, her bunny tucked under her arm, and raises her tiny hands to Damian. He scoops her up effortlessly, settling her on his lap. She rests her head against his chest, her little hand clutching his shirt. Damian presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, his eyes closing for a moment.

“You know,” he whispers, “you have your mother's smile. Her warmth.”

Lila looks up at him, giggling, her tiny fingers poking his chin. Damian chuckles quietly, a sound so rare it feels like the room itself pauses to listen. “Yes, you do,” he says, his tone affectionate. “And your brother…”

He looks over at Leo, who is now crawling toward him with the toy truck in hand. Damian reaches out, pulling Leo onto his lap alongside Lila. “You’re going to be just as strong and stubborn as your mother is. I can already tell.”

With both twins on his lap, Damian leans back slightly, letting them settle against him. Lila plays with the buttons on his shirt, while Leo examines his father’s hand, his small fingers tracing the faint scars there.

“You two have changed everything,” Damian says softly, his voice barely audible. “Before you, I didn’t think I could be this. A father. Someone you can rely on.”

Leo babbles something in response, his tiny voice breaking the quiet. Damian smiles faintly, his hand gently brushing through his son’s hair. “But I will be. For both of you. I’ll protect you, guide you, and make sure you never face the things I had to.”

He looks over at you again, his expression softening further. “Your mother taught me how to love, how to let my guard down. And because of her I have you.”

Lila yawns, her head resting against Damian’s chest, her bunny still clutched tightly in her hand. Leo mimics her, his eyes starting to droop as his small body relaxes against his father. Damian’s heart swells as he watches them, their tiny forms so peaceful and innocent.

“You’ll never know how much you mean to me,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “But I’ll spend every day making sure you feel it.”

A soft rustle from the couch draws Damian’s attention. You stir, your eyes fluttering open. You blink a few times before sitting up, your gaze landing on Damian and the twins. A sleepy smile graces your lips.

“Falling asleep without me, beloved?” Damian teases quietly, his tone warm.

Stretching on the couch, the blanket slipping from your shoulders. “It looks like I wasn’t the only one getting sleepy,” you said, nodding toward the twins.

“They’re finally settling down,” Damian replies, his voice soft. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Smiling you slipped off the couch then walked over to him,sitting beside him as you rested your head on his shoulder. “You’re amazing with them,” you whispers, your hand gently brushing over your daughter's Lila’s hair. “They’re so lucky to have you.”

Damian glances down at her, his expression tender. “I’m the lucky one.”

For a while, you two sit together, the twins snuggled in Damian’s lap and you leaning into his side. The room is filled with the quiet sounds of their breathing and the faint twinkle of the Christmas tree lights. It’s a moment of pure peace, a reminder of the love and warmth they’ve built together.

As Lila lets out a soft sigh in her sleep, Brooke smiles. “I love you, Damian.”

“I love you too, beloved,” Damian replies, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And thank you. For this. For them.”

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.3

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another.

Author's note: Please, if possible, leave a small comment it really helps me to write more Part one _ Part two _ Part three

The drama’s success was undeniable, and the cast was invited to a grand success party to celebrate the show's achievements. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and shared memories of the intense but rewarding filming process. Mingyu arrived with his usual charm, his members teasing him about how this was as much a celebration of his growth as an actor as it was for the drama’s success.

Y/N, meanwhile, was standing across the room, engaged in an animated conversation with the second lead, who had also won over fans with his portrayal. Her rare laugh rang out, catching Mingyu’s attention. He found himself watching her, a strange pang in his chest as he noticed how effortlessly the second lead made her smile.

“She looks like she’s enjoying herself,” one of Mingyu’s members commented teasingly, nudging him. “You okay there?”

“I’m fine,” Mingyu replied quickly, though his clenched jaw told a different story. He tried to focus on the celebration, but his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N. The sight of her laughing at another man’s jokes, the ease with which she seemed to connect with him—it was enough to make jealousy bubble up inside him.

Unable to hold himself back, Mingyu walked over, his steps purposeful. “Y/N,” he said, interrupting their conversation. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the sudden interruption. “Uh, sure,” she said, excusing herself from the second lead.

He led her to a quieter corner of the venue, his heart racing. Before she could ask what was wrong, Mingyu did something completely out of character—he leaned down and kissed her. It was quick, almost fleeting, but it was enough to leave them both breathless. Realizing what he’d done, Mingyu pulled back, his eyes wide with panic.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, his cheeks burning. Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and bolted, leaving Y/N standing there, stunned.

Y/N found him later that night on the rooftop of the venue, leaning against the railing, his shoulders tense. She walked up to him, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. “Mingyu, what was that?”

He didn’t turn to face her, keeping his gaze fixed on the city lights. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.

“Why did you, then?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You don’t get to just kiss me and then run away, Mingyu. Talk to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I couldn’t help myself, okay?” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but every time I see you, every time you smile, I—I just can’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched at his confession, but before she could say anything, he continued, his tone turning somber. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t... I can’t do this right now.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because my group is at its peak,” he said, finally turning to face her. His eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “Everything we’ve worked for—it’s all happening now. I can’t let anything distract me from that, not even you.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. “So you’re saying I’m a distraction?”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said quickly. “You’re amazing, Y/N. But I have responsibilities—my members, our fans, our future. I can’t be selfish right now.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N nodded, her expression unreadable. “I understand,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “But you don’t get to push me away like this and expect me to wait forever, Mingyu.”

He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just... I can’t.”

Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, leaving Mingyu alone on the rooftop, the city lights blurring as he blinked back tears.

The weeks following the success party were filled with promotional activities, interviews, and variety show appearances. Mingyu and Y/N were often paired together, their on-screen chemistry a major draw for fans. Despite their personal tension, they maintained a professional front, though their group members couldn’t help but notice the subtle shifts in their behavior.

During a joint guesting on a popular variety show, the host couldn’t resist teasing them. “So, Mingyu and Y/N, the nation’s favorite drama couple! Tell us, how did you two manage such incredible chemistry?”

Y/N smiled politely, giving a practiced response. “We both worked hard to bring our characters to life. It was all about understanding each other’s strengths as actors.”

Mingyu nodded, echoing her sentiment. “Y/N’s professionalism made it easy. She’s amazing to work with.”

Their co-stars smirked knowingly, while the host leaned closer. “Come on, there’s got to be more to it than that. Did you two practice those romantic scenes a lot off-camera?”

Mingyu laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Not really. We just... trusted each other.”

Y/N added, “And the director guided us a lot. It’s all thanks to the team.”

Despite their composed answers, the knowing glances exchanged between the cast and their group members didn’t go unnoticed by fans. Social media buzzed with theories about their relationship, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance trending worldwide.

When award season rolled around, the drama received multiple nominations, and the cast attended the ceremonies together. Mingyu and Y/N walked the red carpet side by side, their elegant outfits complementing each other perfectly. Fans cheered loudly, holding up signs and chanting their names.

Inside the venue, the tension between them was palpable. Seated next to each other, they exchanged polite smiles and small talk, but their group members noticed the lingering glances and subtle hesitations.

During one of the breaks, Mingyu’s fellow members cornered him. “Okay, spill it,” one of them said. “What’s going on with you and Y/N? You’re acting weird.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Mingyu insisted, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

“Yeah, right,” another member chimed in. “You’ve been acting like a lovesick puppy since the drama started.”

Meanwhile, Y/N’s groupmates weren’t letting her off the hook either. “You’ve been so distracted lately,” one of them remarked. “Does it have anything to do with a certain tall, charming co-star?”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure, and I’m not a singer,” another member teased. “Come on, Y/N. We’re your friends. You can tell us.”

Despite their denials, the truth was becoming harder to hide. As they continued to navigate the whirlwind of promotions and public appearances, Mingyu and Y/N found themselves drawn to each other more than ever, their unresolved feelings simmering just beneath the surface.

The culmination of the award season came with the announcement of the Best Drama Couple award. As the presenter read their names, Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a surprised glance before standing up to accept the trophy together. The crowd erupted in applause, their fans going wild as they walked to the stage.

Standing under the bright lights, Mingyu took the microphone first. “Thank you so much for this honor. Working on this drama has been an incredible experience, and I’m grateful to have shared it with such an amazing team.”

He handed the microphone to Y/N, who smiled warmly. “This award belongs to everyone who worked tirelessly to make this drama a success. Thank you to the fans for supporting us and believing in our story.”

As they walked offstage, the host quipped, “Looks like the chemistry isn’t just on-screen!” prompting laughter from the audience and a shared, embarrassed smile from Mingyu and Y/N. Backstage, their group members were waiting, their teasing remarks only adding to the flurry of emotions the two were struggling to contain.

During one of Seventeen’s concerts, Mingyu found himself overwhelmed with emotion. As the group performed a heartfelt song dedicated to their fans, he felt the weight of everything he had been carrying—the success, the expectations, the unspoken feelings for Y/N. Tears streamed down his face as he sang, his voice trembling with raw emotion. The fans in the audience cheered louder, their love and support palpable.

The video of Mingyu crying during the performance quickly went viral, touching fans and even reaching Y/N’s group. One of her members showed her the clip during their downtime. “Look at him,” they said, smiling softly. “He’s always so composed, but this... this is different.”

Y/N watched the video, her heart aching as she saw the vulnerability in Mingyu’s expression. She didn’t say anything, but the sight of him like that stayed with her, a reminder of just how much he had been holding back.

Not long after, Y/N had her own moment of vulnerability during a live performance. Her group performed a ballad about heartbreak, and as Y/N sang the emotional climax, tears welled up in her eyes. The lyrics hit too close to home, and for a moment, she let her guard down, her voice quivering with the weight of her emotions. The audience was moved, their cheers a mix of admiration and sympathy.

Backstage, her members comforted her, while fans took to social media to express their support. Mingyu saw the performance later that night, and as he watched Y/N pour her heart out on stage, he felt a surge of longing and regret. She had always been so strong, but seeing her break down reminded him of how much she had been holding back as well.

Despite their best efforts to move forward, it was clear to everyone around Mingyu and Y/N that they were suffering. Mingyu was distracted during practices, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a subdued, distant energy. Meanwhile, Y/N, always composed and professional, was retreating into herself more than ever, her laughs sounding hollow even to her group members.

The tension didn’t go unnoticed by either group. During a shared music show appearance, Seventeen and Y/N’s group found themselves in the same waiting room. Between performances, Seungkwan finally spoke up, addressing both groups.

“I can’t take this anymore,” he said dramatically, earning a few chuckles. “Mingyu’s like a zombie lately, and I don’t think Y/N’s doing much better. They’re miserable.”

Y/N’s leader nodded in agreement. “It’s true. She’s been off since all of this started, even though she’s pretending she’s fine. Something has to give.”

Hoshi clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “Then let’s make them talk!”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan agreed, his eyes gleaming with determination. “They’re clearly in love but too stubborn to admit it.”

The group members exchanged knowing glances, quickly forming a plan.

A few days later, Mingyu received a cryptic text from Joshua, asking him to meet at a quiet café in Seoul. Mingyu was confused but figured it was nothing unusual. At the same time, Y/N’s leader convinced her to visit the same café, claiming they had an errand to run.

When Mingyu arrived, he looked around, confused to find no sign of Joshua. Moments later, the bell above the door chimed, and Mingyu turned to see Y/N stepping in.

She froze when she spotted him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mingyu replied, standing up. “Joshua told me to meet him here.”

“My leader said the same thing,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms.

It didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening. Turning toward the window, they spotted their group members sitting in a nearby van, grinning and waving. Hoshi held up a sign that read: "TALK IT OUT!"

Mingyu let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’ve been set up.”

Y/N crossed her arms, but her lips twitched with a hint of amusement. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Inside the café, they sat across from each other in a corner booth. The silence was deafening, with Mingyu nervously tapping his fingers against his coffee cup while Y/N stared out the window.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N turned to him, her expression softening but guarded. “Mingyu…”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice filled with urgency. “I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away. I told myself it was for your sake, but all I’ve done is hurt both of us. And I hate it, Y/N. I hate being without you.”

Her lips parted as if to say something, but she stopped, letting him continue.

“I was scared,” Mingyu admitted. “Scared of what this would mean for you, for me, for our careers. But now I know that I was just making excuses. I don’t care about any of that anymore. All I care about is you.”

Y/N blinked back tears, her voice trembling as she responded. “I was scared too, Mingyu. But I never wanted you to go through this alone. I wanted to be there for you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry. I’m done running away. I’m ready if you are.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nodded. “Okay. But we have to face this together, Mingyu. No more shutting each other out.”

“Together,” he promised, reaching across the table to take her hand.

From the van outside, their group members erupted into cheers, causing curious passersby to glance their way. “Mission accomplished!” Seungkwan declared triumphantly.

“Finally,” Y/N’s leader said, grinning. “Now maybe we can have some peace.”

When Mingyu and Y/N stepped out of the café hand in hand, their groupmates burst into applause. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile, while Mingyu laughed, his ears turning red. Their friends quickly pulled them into a playful group hug, sealing the moment with their shared excitement

Their relationship brought new dynamics to both groups. Mingyu and Y/N started dating discreetly, often sneaking out for late-night walks or quick café visits between their busy schedules. However, their group members were far from subtle about their budding romance.

During one practice session, Woozi casually remarked, “So, did you two have a good date last night?” Mingyu choked on his water, while Y/N shot him a warning look. The room erupted into laughter.

Another time, Y/N’s group members cornered her during a makeup session. “Did Mingyu really buy you that bracelet?” one of them teased, pointing at the delicate chain on her wrist. Y/N tried to deny it, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.

Months into their relationship, after much discussion and deliberation, Mingyu and Y/N decided to make their relationship public. They wanted to share their happiness with fans who had supported them through every step of their journey.

One quiet evening, both posted matching statements on their respective social media accounts. The posts included a candid photo of them holding hands during a sunset walk, along with heartfelt messages thanking their fans and promising to continue their careers with the same dedication and love.

The reactions were immediate and overwhelming. Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, some even recalling the sparks they had noticed during the drama’s promotions. Within minutes, their names trended worldwide, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance and #SupportLove gaining traction.

Their group members, of course, couldn’t resist chiming in. Seungkwan posted a screenshot of the announcement with the caption, “Finally!” followed by several heart emojis. Y/N’s leader commented, “About time! Proud of you both.”

In the days that followed, they appeared on a variety show to address the news. When asked how it felt to go public, Mingyu joked, “I feel lighter now. No more sneaking around!” Y/N laughed, adding, “And no more teasing from our members…hopefully.”

The hosts congratulated them, and the episode was filled with lighthearted banter about their romance, including a reenactment of their first on-screen kiss, much to their embarrassment. Their members, seated in the audience, cheered loudly and made exaggerated heart signs, causing the couple to dissolve into laughter.

Despite the initial nerves, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. Fans praised their courage and celebrated the love story that had unfolded before their eyes. With the support of their loved ones and fans, Mingyu and Y/N embraced their relationship openly, proving that love and career could coexist beautifully.

While promoting on separate shows, the teasing didn’t stop. During an episode of a cooking show where Y/N was a guest, the host brought up Mingyu. “So, does your boyfriend cook for you?” he asked with a sly smile. Y/N nearly dropped the bowl she was holding, her flustered reaction earning laughs from the crew.

Meanwhile, on a talk show with Seventeen, the host slyly mentioned Y/N’s name while discussing Mingyu’s favorite co-stars. The members immediately jumped in, with Seungkwan exclaiming, “You mean his favorite person in general!” Mingyu buried his face in his hands, mumbling, “Why do I even talk to you guys?”

As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"

Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."

The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"

The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"

Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.

As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.

Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.

Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."

Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"

The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.

One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.

Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."

He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."

Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.

"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."

Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."

As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.

As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"

Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."

The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"

The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"

Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.

As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.

Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.

Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."

Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"

The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.

One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.

Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."

He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."

Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.

"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."

Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."

As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.

As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"

Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."

The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"

The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"

Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.

As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.

Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.

Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."

Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"

The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.

One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.

Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."

He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."

Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.

"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."

Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."

As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.

[thatonetargaryen]

My Tears Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Part One

Synopsis: You and Ambessa have been married for nearly two decades—and your love was one many people could only dream of achieving. But when your wife leaves overseas to visit her daughter, you strained relationship finally reaches it’s peak.

cw; afab!reader; angst ; infidelity ; local cuisine makes an appearance ; suggestive behavior ; Ambessa being a bad wife

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for the prompt. I hope you like it :). Might do ‘Pretty In Pink’ one next.

……

The warm ocean breeze flowed through your (h/c) hair as you gazed upon the horizon. The ship slightly rocked side to side, and you knew you were bond to get seasick soon.

You were currently on your way to visit your wife—the formidable General Ambessa Medarda. She had recently took leave from Noxus to come to Piltover, though her reasons were scattered. You two shared a constant stream of letters back and forth, and she told you how the journey went and her rants of disgust towards the council. Sometimes that’s all she wrote to you about. You didn’t mind. What you did mind—however—was when the letters stopped coming.

It started off small—you wrote one letter to her and didn’t get a reply. Simply shrugging it off and saying to yourself ‘maybe it got lost in the mail’, you sent another….and another…and another. It didn’t take long for you to suspect something.

Piltover was as greedy as they are unpredictable. While you doubt they would’ve done anything to Ambessa (considering they would lose much,much more than they’d gain), you wouldn’t take any chances. Anything could’ve happened.

She could’ve fallen ill—or worse. At first the thought of it simply slipping her mind was there, but it quickly vanished. Ambessa was never one to let anything associated with you slip her mind.

What really set your suspensions high was when her daughter, Mel Medarda—who you had a close relationship with for most of her life, one you cherished—replied to a letter you sent asking about Ambessa.

‘You should come see for yourself.’

The sentence left you in a state of confusion—but also reassurance. Ambessa was fine, but….something was wrong. It wasn’t how your wife doing….

It was what your wife was doing.

……

The ship finally arrived at the docks of Piltover. The few servants and guards that were aboard the ship disembark and helped you unload the few bags you brought with you.

You looked around—searching for Ambessa. You had sent a letter saying you were worried for her and would sail there, but you knew she hadn’t gotten it.

Instead, you were met with the council member and your lovely step-daughter—Mel.

She smiled as you approached. It had been a while seen you’d seen each other, and she towered over you. You engulfed her in a big, warm hug—one that she seemed to desperately need.

“Oh, Mel…”, you said into her shoulder.

“Mother…”, she whispered back. She had gave you the title years ago, yet sometimes, you still felt you didn’t deserve it.

The two of you shared a moment of silence, taking in each other. Her gaze was soft and warm, yet pity lied beneath it.

You smiled and held onto her shoulders. “Mel, look how much you’ve grown!”

She laughed, “Wish I could say the same for you.”, she said as she gazed down at your shorter frame.

You bumped your hip against yours as you two intertwined your arms. “I stopped growing many, many years ago. It’s something I’ve came to peace with.”

The two of you continued to talk as your servants and guards trailed you with your few belongings. You commented on the things you saw, asked Mel how her position as a councilwoman was, and who her new boy-toy was all about. She visibly cringed when you brought him up. Though, she would’ve dwelled more on that topic than the one involving the whole reason you came here.

“What’s going on with your mother?”, you finally asked.

Mel looked around, now slightly uncomfortable. She replied to you with a simple “Hm” as the two of you continued walking. You halted her in her tracks.

“Hm? Really? Your mother’s acting weird..and now you too?”

She bit the inside of her mouth before she sighed, now fully facing you. “Did you notice anything strange before she left?”

You were taken aback by her question, but after a moment of thinking , you answered, “Well, she has been quite distant as of late. But, you know how she can get. And she hasn’t been reply to the letters I’ve sent her.”

Mel looked at you as if she had solved a puzzle—the thoughts connecting in her mind. But there wasn’t an ounce of celebration on her face. She grabbed both of your hands, contemplating what to say next. “I’ll take you to see her. She’s not far from here.”

You looked at Mel in confusion, while she took you softly by the hand and led you towards Ambessa.

The rest of the walk was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

……

You arrived at a beautiful building. While the sight of it was breathtaking—it was as just as plain as the rest of Piltover.

Mel nodded towards the entrance. “She’s in there”, she whispered.

You nodded, and signaled for your servants and guards to wait here. You hiked your skirt and began to ascend up the white stairs. You spared one more glance in Mel’s direction, and found her speaking with your servants and guards. Your excitement was uncontrollable as you got closer and closer to the entrance. You hadn’t seen your wife in weeks—and the things you wanted to do to her were unspeakable. You bit your bottom lip just thinking about it.

For a moment, you could hear was sounded like men’s laughter. You brushed it off, until you heard it again—though this time it was muffled.

What had taken you aback the most—however—was the sound of your wife’s deep, low breaths. The ones she made when she…

No.

After an eternity, you reached the top of the stairs. And it took everything in you not to scream right then and there.

There Ambessa was, her back turned to you as she sat upon a large, lavish couch. From where you stood, you could see her the coils of her grey hair fall on her shoulders as she laid back. Sat perched on her lap was a man—with fiery auburn hair and pale skin. He was petite and charming—almost like a woman. His lips were full as he licked them and his green hungry eyes raked over your wife’s frame.

Her honey-kissed hands roamed his body in ways only she had promised to touch you in. You felt a mix of emotions all at once at the sight. Anger, resentment, confusion, surprise, sadness. You wanted to scream and shout. Every painting and vase in the room didn’t know how much you wanted to break it.

But instead of doing any of that, you simply whispered her name.

“Ambessa?”

The man’s eyes shot open as he suddenly looked towards you. Embarrassment and surprise was evident on his face, but he made no move to get off Ambessa’s lap.

Your wife finally turned around to catch your eye, and you’d never seen her looked so surprised. Looking her in the eye was your breaking point as you rushed out the room, hot tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N!”, she called out your name, but to no avail. She moved to get up, but noticed the twink still on her lap.

“Get off me, you fool!”, she roughly pushed him off. He fell to the floor with a thud and stared at Ambessa’s frame as she raced out the room. The wine was long gone—now spilled across the once white pristine floor.

“Wait! Y/N!”, she called out once again. She looked around frantically, and noticed some of her guards stationed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Stop her!”, she commanded, but they ignored her as they ushered you into a car.

Mel closed the door just as her mother was about to approach. She pulled on the handle, only to find it locked.

She stopped to look inside the glass, and found the last person she was expecting—Mel. She looked at her mother sternly in disappointment through the glass. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy. She simply shook her head. With a wave of her hand, the car was off.

Ambessa stood there dumbfounded, angry, and regretful.

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 4/7

summary: part 4 of my short story naive! the four of you go to the club and while the couple are still fighting, you and hamzah act on your feelings a lil more. but it can only go so well for so long…

contains: SFW content, some kissing and touchy touchy ;)

w/c: 2.5k-ish

a/n: i couldn’t let you guys go into the new year without updating this story. im the worst but tysm for the support yall are so sweet i could cry xxxx enjoy!!!<3 read the a/n at the end if u care to know more

~

The couple's bad mood was not simply slept off and it's ruining your vibe.

You and Mandy are getting ready in their en suite bathroom while Hamzah and Martin speak in hushed tones in the bedroom. The bathroom door is open, and every so often you look at the space over your shoulder in the mirror and make eye contact with Martin from the bed. He looks away immediately, not at all subtle. It's like a game at this point, seeing how many times you can catch him in the act.

"Is he gonna do this all night," you mumble, applying your mascara after yet another match of eye-tag.

"We could just close the door," Mandy offers. She pays no mind to the childish behavior behind you, straightening her hair without sparing him a single glance.

"You're so right," you say and get up to shut it yourself.

Once your makeup is pretty much done, you decide to start getting dressed. You turn the music on her speaker up and give yourself a once-over in the mirror, holding different outfits beside your body to see what you want to wear for the night.

"I don't know what to wear. Wanna match?" you ask, placing your chin on top of her head to stop her movements. She nearly clamps your neck with the straightener. "Hey!"

"Sure," she laughs. "Grab my suitcase, please."

You put your clothes back down and step out of the bathroom to bring her suitcase in. You shimmy it out of its place by the TV stand, not missing the way the boys go completely silent until you're gone.

"Top zipper, the satin blue dress," Mandy instructs.

You hand it to her and sit by your own bag of clothes to rummage through it. You find a top and skirt set in a similar baby blue color then hold it up for her to see.

"Yes, no, yes?"

"Yes, definitely."

You apply your lip combo and take a few silly photos in the mirror with Mandy, your made up faces clashing with your baggy tees. One of the better photos are posted on your Instagram story for fun. When you finally get changed—you guys had a dance break to some y2k club classics—you put your heels on and realize you need a little pregame.

When you walk into the bedroom this time, the boys are leaned against the headboard and on their phones, mindlessly scrolling. You go by Martin's side of the bed and poke him repeatedly until he looks up.

"Do you happen to have the penjamin on you?"

"That depends," he says, putting his hand in his pocket. "What's the magic word?"

You roll your eyes. "Please?"

He pulls the little device out of his pocket and presents it to you in his palm. When you go to grab it, he makes a fist and holds it above his head.

"Please who?"

"I'm not calling you Daddy," you scoff, prying his fingers open and snatching the pen from his grasp. He barely puts up a fight. "That's Hamzah's job."

At the mention of his name, Hamzah looks up and seems like he's about to say something to retaliate but freezes. His gaze drags down your figure and you blush.

"Maybe it's not his job," Martin says smugly, "since you made him speechless."

Hamzah snaps out of it and elbows his friend in the side.

“It would be your girlfriend's job if you weren't being petty right now."

You wince at the sullen expression that washes over Martin's face.

"Right."

All you can do is watch as he clambers off the bed and walks out of the room. You lean against the wall and slide the balcony door open with a sigh.

"He can't seriously be that mad," Hamzah says. "I was kidding."

"He can dish it, but he can't take it," you say, too used to his behavior. "And he's extra sensitive right now, so."

"Well, they better not ruin our night with that stuff." Hamzah crosses his arms.

"I won't let them."

"Yeah?" Hamzah snorts. "What're you gonna do about it?"

"Um." You take a hit and blow the smoke outside. "I'll think of something if I need to step in."

Hamzah laughs at your empty threat and you smile. You take another hit before offering the dab pen to him.

"I have a feeling I should be sober for tonight."

"Boring," you sing out. "It'll be fine. C'mon, feel my peer pressure."

You wiggle your fingers at him and he shakes his head, laughing lightly. When he silently puts his hand out a few seconds later, you cheer. The room fills with the loud music from Mandy's speaker as he takes his first hit.

"So," you begin, already feeling slightly heady. "What were you guys whispering about earlier?"

"I shouldn't say."

"Really?"

He nods. "It was partly about their fight. Partly the trip. And you."

"Me?" You point at yourself with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "I can't divulge the details."

"That's bullshit."

"I never ask what you guys say about me."

"Hey—I don't—what?" you stutter, unable to come up with a defense.

"C'mon," he says, tilting his head. "I'm not that oblivious."

Your eyes narrow. You've never once considered that this cupid thing Martin was pulling on you could have gone both ways. You don't know if you're relieved for him stepping in to push his friend closer to you, or annoyed that he's even meddling in this whole thing. It makes you wonder if Martin knows what happened by the time he and Mandy returned to the beach last night.

"Speaking of details." You clear your throat. "Do you even know what club we're going to?"

Your attempt at changing the topic is weak, but as per usual, Hamzah rolls with it to save you any embarrassment.

"No clue. Martin keeps his trip itinerary locked in his notes."

The conversation devolves into a bunch of what if's about the night and jokes that are only funny because you guys are high. When Mandy finally comes to join and sees the state of you two, you offer her a hit.

"What? No drinks?" She frowns.

"Hotel alcohol is like twenty bucks a pop! This is the next best thing."

"Ugh, fine. Give it."

With the three of you thoroughly blitzed, you collect Martin from the living room couch and make your way out of the hotel. He doesn't speak for a majority of the walk, and you think that's the longest you've ever heard him be quiet in a group setting.

Despite it being nearly 10 P.M., the air is pretty humid and forgiving on your exposed skin. The other thing about it being so late already, is that the club is absolutely chock-full of people when you enter. The dance floor of strangers are nearly toe to toe in proximity, and you wrap your arm with Mandy's to avoid getting separated in the crowd. The boys immediately beeline to the bar for drinks, but you don't let that stop your journey. You maneuver your way to the front of the stage and only let go of each other once you've found a bit of space to dance in.

The DJ nods at the two of you and you turn to raise your eyebrows suggestively at Mandy, who pushes your shoulder and continues dancing. You get lost in the beat, swaying and bouncing with the vibrations traveling through your limbs. The strobe lights illuminate your sweaty skin and you swear the energy in the room has you feeling higher. You begin grinding on each other and throw your heads back to laugh, trying to catch your breaths in between a multitude of bodies.

"Hey!" Mandy places her arms around your shoulders to catch your attention and you take it as a sign to grind on her. "I'm going to grab drinks.”

"No!" You turn and put your hands over hers. "Don't go!"

"I'll be right back!" She grins and squeezes you before letting go to disappear into the crowd.

Alone, you turn back to the stage and throw your hands in the air. You close your eyes for a moment, the pounding beats making a home in your brain. You're sure your ears will be ringing when you leave.

You wonder if Martin's drunk himself into a coma yet and knowing him, you know how easy that could be. You only hope this outing tonight doesn't make him do anything he regrets. Then you remember he’s a twenty-five year old man and you’re worrying about him while you’re supposed to be having fun. So, you shut your brain off and let the beat carry you.

When Mandy's back, she has two drinks in hand and Hamzah in tow. She hands you a cocktail and you graciously sip from your first alcoholic drink of the night.

"Where's Martin?" you ask.

"Bar!" she shouts over the music.

You shake your head. "Make up and make out already!"

She jabs your side and you giggle, swatting her hand away. Hamzah's doing something reminiscent of a frat flick, looking slightly out of it. You assume he's already done some shots and is way more intoxicated. So, being an empath, you finish your drink to get closer to his level. When you're done, you hand the empty cup to Mandy and wink at her. Your hand envelops Hamzah's and you pull him deeper in the crowd so you can dance together.

"I don't—I can't dance," he complains, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"C'mon, it's easy!"

You begin by swaying your hips, raising his hand in yours to guide him into a rhythm. He tries to follow along, shuffling around like a newborn deer. It's a funny sight, but you don't want him to stop if you tease him, so you bite back your amused smile. He slowly gets less self-conscious and continues on in his own way with the flow of the music, even twirling you around once or twice, laughing all the way as you narrowly avoid knocking into people. His eyes never leave you, like he's constantly thinking of his next move to impress you.

After letting him freestyle some more, you pull him close and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He falters at the change in pace and his hands fall at your hips. Your hands rest at the nape of his neck and he shivers at the way your fingertips grace his skin. The rapid strobe lights nearly blind you, but you hold eye contact.

"Was that so bad?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

"Yes," he says sarcastically. "I hate dancing."

"But I like your dancing."

You sway with him, careful not to step on his toes in your heels. Close up, you can nearly feel his breath on your face. You take a moment to admire his eyelashes and the way his eyes are slightly bloodshot, willing him to break the eye contact. He leans in closer.

"I like your dancing more."

You can't help but grin. His expression mimics yours.

"Yeah, well," you start, bringing your thumb up to trace the side of his jaw, "I like you."

He ducks down and captures your lips in a kiss. It takes you by surprise. You hadn't spoken a word about your kiss since last night, and you were beginning to think you made a mistake by acting on your impulses. Evidently, he doesn't seem to mind it as much as you'd worried.

The tip of his nose presses against your cheek as he shifts his head to deepen the kiss. Though the room is warm, this makes you hotter than any amount of dancing could've done. His palms squeeze your hips and your fingers rise to play with his curls. They're soft to the touch, just as you suspected. You tug lightly as the kiss gets more insatiable.

"Ouch," he mumbles against your lips, barely loud enough to hear. You snicker and tug it again, making him pull away. "I said ouch."

"I know," you laugh out. "Sorry."

"That funny?" he questions. You nod, grinning at his playful irritation. "See how you like it."

His hand trails up your back until his fingers are at your scalp and he gently pulls on your roots. Your head moves back with his action and your lips part, exhaling a shaky breath. His eyes widen. He does it again. You reach up to kiss him again.

It's hotter this time, in both senses of the word. Your skin goes alight with a blaze even the coldest shower couldn't reduce. You drape your wrists over his shoulders, your beaded bracelet pressing into him the same way his is imprinting into the sliver of bare skin below your top.

Realizing you’re standing in place in the midst of a lively dance floor, you break from the kiss and turn so your back is against his front. You pull his arms around your shoulders and sway, deliberately pressing yourself against him. You enjoy hearing the way his breath hitches next to your ear, always needing to find a new way to tease him. You know if you could have it your way without seeming too desperate too soon, you’d be doing more than just dancing.

“I like you, too,” he says, clutching you closer to him. “I forgot to say.”

You turn your head and nearly kiss his cheek because of how cute he is. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“And I really like your dancing.”

His suggestive words spur you into grinding on him more, anything to get a reaction out of him, and it works every time. The two of you keep going this way until your thighs are burning and you’re out of breath. If it weren’t for the visual reminder, you would’ve forgotten that you came here with other people.

A couple feet away, you spot two familiar heads weeding through the crowd and slowly drawing nearer. You step away from Hamzah, who looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Before you can explain yourself, you come face-to-face with Mandy. Martin stops a bit away.

“Can we leave?” she rushes out.

Her mascara is running and her nose is red. Martin looks disgruntled, his eyes never staying in one place as he scans through the crowd. You grab her hand and nod. The four of you spot the nearest exit and leave promptly.

“What happened?” you ask once you’re out in the open. “Are you okay?”

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” Her eyes stay on the ground.

Your heart drops. “Of course.”

The walk back to the hotel is uneasy and fast-paced. The boys walk behind the two of you and you can hear Martin’s one word answers to everything Hamzah says to him. Your heels click and clack, barely providing a distraction from the hundreds of questions swarming your mind.

~

a/n: ooo we’re getting angsty. im so sorry this took so long and if u feel that it wasn’t worth the wait, the truth is ive been so sick recently like never before in my life and i haven’t felt a lick of motivation to write. ive had to rewrite these chapters so many times that its actually affecting me mentally because i wanna make u guys happy while actually enjoying writing. i promise u won’t have to wait this long ever again, but doing this story is making me realize i prefer writing short form stuff way more than stories like this because it’s simply less stress and fits my writing style more. thanks again for all the support and kind words, u guys have really warmed my heart and i hope u know that even tho this is fanfiction and it may seem silly, it’s really a labor of love and im so grateful that u actually like what i put out there. im so so so touched and i rlly love u guys, even if i don’t know u. parasocial virtual hugs to u all xoxoxo tysm. <3

[barblaz-arts]

Found out about you and your chaggie art on twt and decided to check out more of it on here! I’ve heard about hazbins hotel before and have seen the pair and fanart of them but haven’t made the decision to watch the show.

Wanted to ask from your perspective, what is it about chaggie that you like? Could be anything about their relationship dynamics, wtv representation that they portray, anything! Should I watch hazbins hotel for them 🤔

Gosh! What do I love about them??

Oh man, welll... On a surface level? The dynamics they display are just so delicious to me, and I especially love that it's always a little subverted with them, yunno? It's angelXdemon, but the demon is the precious sunshine while the angel is the grump with a body count. The princessXknight dynamic they display is subverted too because although Charlie is the one born in the worst realm in Creation, she's still the privileged princess, meanwhile even though Vaggie is the one who came from literal paradise, she's the one who lived a life that wasn't exactly luxurious. They just present dynamics I've already always loved but with a fun little twist.

But on a deeper level, I think I love Chaggie because they're already so far along in their relationship, and you can see it in how comfortable they are with each other, which was such a surprise for me. You see, I'm not very good at fixating on ships when they're already canon. Like, I'd think it's cute, but I wouldn't be itching to find fics about them. And if a ship I've liked finally gets together, I actually... usually... Kinda sorta love the ship a little less... I'd still like them! I just wont be as giddy about them.

But omg Chaggie still manages to give me butterflies, and I think it's because they're way past the honeymoon phase, something that I barely see represented for sapphic couples who are such important characters in a story. Lotsa people didnt like how it wasn't initially obvious that they were a couple, but I actually really loved how the writers and animators showed how deep their bond is without having them making out ang grope each other all the time. God if they were like that, it'd probably give me the ick.

It was just lowkey, because they've been together for years. Charlie would casually rest her arm on Vaggie's thigh and Vaggie isn't flustered because it's probably a habit of Charlie's by now. Vaggie would tuck Charlie's hair out of her face while she's worried about something and it isn't framed as a special thing, but you can tell by how Vaggie looks at Charlie that it wasn't done with any less love than it did over the years. And when Charlie's stressed about a phone call, Vaggie wordlessly offers her hand and Charlie takes it with a quick appreciative smile before holding on tight and bouncing their joined hands up and down like it's a stress reliever.

Their interactions weren't uber sweet with heated physicality, but the show had them display familiarity and comfort instead. And idk i just love that. I love that you can clearly tell they're best friends. Like, the very first scene they appear in for the Pilot, Vaggie is tying Charlie's bowtie for her while Charlie stares at her with a smile on her face. So cute...

Also. I just think both of them are hot lmao

So. Do I think you should watch the show for Chaggie? Idrk. I personally watched for them, but I came into the show expecting not to get much shipping fuel bcuz they were already in a relationship in a show that has a whole dang lot more going on in it. So some people who wanted to get into the ship expecting maybe a lotta smooching felt unsatisfied. But honestly, what did they expect from a 8 ep season that only had a run time of 22 mins per episode, in a show that wasn't even a romance? 😭 I personally thought we got a decent amount without taking away from the actual plot.

I think you should try to watch with the mindset of just having plain ol fun. Try the first 2 episodes, which is only 40 mins of your day. If it doesn't jive with you, that's totally fine. But pls do check out the songs if you dont like the show. The songs are so good. My favorite song from the season has plot stuff, but this one is my second favorite

And since we're talking about Chaggie, here's the reprise of that song sung by them. It's short, but they promised more chaggie songs will be in season 2 so im not too sad about it. Charlie and Vaggie's VA harmonizing is just beautiful.

Edit: for those who saw this post when i accidentally prematurely posted it before adding the links and photos, no you didn't 😐

[please-destroy]

Jurassic Heart

Natasha Romanoff x Clumsy!Dork!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

.

‘You’re allowed to look.’ The beautiful red-headed woman told you with an obvious grin. You didn’t dare, keeping your gaze firmly at eye level and flushing obviously with embarrassment.

‘No, really.’ The woman insisted lightly. Her teasing tone made you certain that she’d caught your lingering stares from across the room. 

‘I just think your costume is really cool.’ You told her embarrassedly, trying to swerve the implication that you’d been looking at her breasts. 

‘Not as cool as yours.’ She leaned forward so you could hear her over the thrum of music. Her finger tapped the side of your wrist. Her touch made your skin tingle.

‘I’m Natasha.’ She called out and her head tilted invitingly. The small braid woven into her long hair caught your eye.

‘(Y/N)’ You replied with a nervous smile. 

‘How did you end up here?’ Natasha raised her eyebrow like she knew it would be a good story. You swallowed nervously, aware of how out of place you seemed at a party like this. 

‘I’m just an intern.’ You told her, trying to rub the back of your neck and hitting yourself with the spiky wing that was part of your costume. You winced in surprise and Natasha’s lips twitched with a small smile.

‘You’re cute.’ Natasha determined and her finger tapped the side of your wrist again. Your cheeks suddenly felt unbearably warm. You hadn’t expected her to flirt. 

‘You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.’ You replied unthinkingly. Your eyes widened with momentary panic as you heard the truth fall from your mouth.

Natasha’s teasing smirk faded as she registered your words. Her head tilted curiously. Your gazes tangled up for a moment and you tried to take a mental picture of the colour of her eyes. 

After a moment, Natasha's touch trailed down your wrist as she went to take your hand instead.

‘Let’s get a drink.’ She decided, leading you over to the bar. 

.

The bartender, dressed as someone from the stone age, couldn’t stop staring at the front of Natasha’s costume either. 

‘I like your, uh, little arms.’ She told Natasha with an overfriendly smile as she made up her cocktail.

‘I bet you do.’ Natasha replied with polite but clear disinterest.

You felt her thumb draw patterns on the back of your hand. Your stomach flipped.

Don’t screw this up. Your mind warned you immediately.

You pushed the thought away, you didn’t have a clue what you were doing anyway. 

You accepted a drink from Natasha gratefully. 

You raised the glass to your mouth and watched Natasha bite an olive from a cocktail stick in her martini. You faltered and wondered if you were having a fever dream.

‘Uh.’ You tried to start a conversation. You tried to think of something to say that wasn’t ‘Lips’, ‘Natasha’ or most embarrassingly ‘Bite Me.’

‘Our costumes match pretty well.’ Natasha looked you up and down thoughtfully, mercifully ignoring your awkwardness. 

You remembered how to function and nodded as you sipped your drink.

‘I wasn’t sure what the ‘Historic Moment’ theme meant on the invitation.’ You murmured, voice lowering automatically now that you were standing together at the quieter edge of the bar.

Natasha glanced over at the crowd on the dance-floor. You followed her gaze, scanning a sea of people wearing the sexiest outfits imaginable that could barely be called vintage.

You looked back at Natasha, taking the opportunity of her distraction to glance down again at the front of her dress. 

Unlike your own, Natasha’s costume couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes to assemble. 

All she’d done was tape two tiny T-Rex arms to the bustiest part of her green dress. 

You’d both come dressed as dinosaurs, but you knew for certain that your own homemade pterodactyl contraption was not attracting the same appreciative glances as Natasha’s.

You’d stared at her chest, deep in thought. When you looked back up, Natasha was waiting patiently for your attention. 

‘Oh no.’ You mumbled, moving to hide your face with your hands. You forgot about the attached string pulley system again. You smacked yourself in the face with your own pterodactyl wings. 

You fought the tears that sprung in your eyes at the surprise hit. The wing looked absurdly soft but there were still metal coat hangers underneath the fabric.

You screwed it up. Your mind whispered.

You stared up at the assortment of loose balloons that bobbed against the ceiling. You tried to recollect yourself. You wished desperately you hadn’t worn such a lame costume. 

You jumped when Natasha’s hand touched your cheek. She hummed gently as her thumb brushed your skin.

‘That looked sore.’ She murmured, her eyes catching yours. There was a heartbeat. You felt the steady thump of the loud music through your feet. 

You noted absentmindedly that Natasha’s eyes were a much prettier green than her costume. You realised you could barely remember your own name when she looked at you. 

Natasha moved closer. Her lips brushed your cheek and shivers went through you. Her hand slid along your waist, just under the hem of your costume.

You breathed out slowly as her lips left your cheek. Natasha gave you a careful smile, assessing your reaction silently. Her hand didn’t leave your waist.

‘Come and meet my friends?’ She offered, her fingers drumming a soft pattern against your body. 

You started to nod, before you hesitated.

‘My costume.’ You mumbled. ‘I should take it off.’

Natasha smirked. 

‘Maybe later.’ She told you and it sounded like a promise. 

.

You let her lead you down some stairs and around the side of the large dance floor. You didn’t realise that you were in the VIP section until you saw Tony Stark approaching you.

His eyes scanned across Natasha’s costume, lingering obviously on the tiny T-Rex arms. Then, he glanced at yours.

‘Glad someone got the right idea.’ He declared, gesturing down at his own Freddie Flintstone costume. ‘I thought Out of Time was self explanatory. But it looks like a slutty ABBA reunion out there.’

His eyes flickered over your costume again. 

‘You work for me?’ He asked neutrally. You nodded, gulping automatically at his tone. You suddenly imagined having to tell people that you’d been fired because you pretended to be a dinosaur at your boss’ party.

‘Good.’ He said abruptly. ‘That wing mechanism is fantastic.’

Natasha’s hand slid easily out of yours as Tony moved to introduce you to his friend. You gave her a helpless look. Natasha gave you a small wave, eyes twinkling.

You watched her attention flicker to a group of women in the corner and she wandered over with a familiarity that told you they were good friends.

Captain Rhodes was deeply impressed by the wings on your back and the unnecessary features that you’d added to them just for fun. He murmured something distractedly about military tech and then went to get another man. Before long, there were several people asking you questions about the home-made contraption. You tried not to seem nervous, sipping your drink and pretending like any of this was normal. 

A server wandered past the group and Tony grabbed two drinks from the tray. Calmly, he offered you another glass of the same drink that you’d just finished. Then he started asking you about your internship and the other projects that you’d been working on. You stumbled over your words as you tried to explain how much the 6 month opportunity meant to you.

You tried to ignore the voice in your head worrying that you were screwing it all up again. 

Tony stayed silent as you talked. It made your ramble feel even more out of control.

.

‘Tomorrow is a new day.’ He declared when you finally lapsed into silence. ‘Actually.’ He corrected himself dryly. ‘It’s a New Year.’

You nodded unsurely.

‘Time for a new, permanent contract I think.’ He shared a conspiratorial look with the others in the group.

You followed his gaze, catching the approving nod of Captain Rhodes.

A sudden rush of pride for your silly costume filled you. Your cheeks hurt trying not to smile too wide as you realised that you’d just been hired by Tony Stark personally.

Something about your rush of happiness turned your gaze back to Natasha like a magnet. 

She was sitting alone on one of the small sofas to the side of the VIP area. She was already looking at you, her expression soft.

Without thinking, you directed your smile at her. 

Natasha smiled back brightly and you noticed the way it made her eyes crinkle. She nodded at the space next to her and you found yourself shrugging off the harness that held your wings and handing the contraption to Colonel Rhodes.

You walked over to Natasha, leaving Tony and the others to continue their discussion.

Natasha’s gaze wandered along your bare arms, exposed without the clunkiest part of your costume. As you sat down, her arm slipped easily around your side. She felt warm pressed against you. You found yourself leaning into her touch. 

‘Having a good time?’ She asked you, like she couldn't tell already. 

‘I think tonight has been better than my whole year.’ You told her seriously and Natasha laughed. You swallowed an overwhelmed feeling. Her laugh was quieter than you expected but you felt it vibrate through you. You wished you could replay the sound forever.

‘It’s only ten minutes until midnight.’ Natasha said suddenly a moment later. You heard the question behind her words. You looked at her curiously. 

You wondered how she’d ended up here at this party without someone to kiss at midnight. 

Natasha looked away self consciously and you realised she could see the question in your eyes. 

You reached out, letting your fingers brush her wrist. 

‘I’d like to kiss you.’ You told her honestly and Natasha gave you a shy smile. 

‘Now or at midnight?’ She teased and her hand brushed your knee.

You felt so grateful for Natasha already. 

‘Let’s make it special.’ You decided. 

Natasha’s head tilted and you realised that she hadn’t expected your answer.

You shrugged nervously.

‘You’re special.’ You mumbled, feeling all of a sudden too much like a teenager at prom.

Natasha hummed a sceptical sound and you knew her disagreement wasn't another tease. You paused unsurely.

‘So, how was your year?’ You asked carefully. 

Natasha glanced away then. Her arm moved away from you as she reached for her drink and took a casual sip.

‘There were ups and downs.’ She answered after a moment.

.

Her tone was light but it made your heart sting.

‘Maybe next year will be better.’ You said, as you moved your hand to find her free one.

Your fingers tangled loosely together and you gave a light squeeze. Natasha looked down at your hands but she didn’t speak.

After a moment, she bumped her shoulder with yours.

‘Do you know what’s gonna happen at midnight?’ You asked, gesturing over to the packed dance floor that was only becoming more crowded as the New Year approached.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

‘You know the ball drop in Times Square?’ She asked. ‘Tony’s going to drop his own version. Except this one will look more like a meteor falling from the sky.’

.

There are few points in your life where a decision is crucial. This was one of those times.

You stood up, tugging at Natasha’s hand as you did.

She looked up at you curiously.

‘Dinosaurs don’t do well with meteors.’ You told her seriously. 

Surprise flickered over Natasha’s face but she let you lead her away.

.

The stairs to the rooftop took several minutes to climb. 

You both gasped when you opened the last door and stepped into the freezing night. Natasha huddled close to you as you stood huddled together, watching the dial of your watch count down the last minute.

You started counting aloud when there were ten seconds left until midnight. You rubbed Natasha's bare arms gently, trying uselessly to protect her from the snow that had started to fall.

When your countdown reached 8, Natasha started counting with you. Her green eyes held yours intently. 

When you reached 5, Natasha licked her lower lip and you swallowed nervously.

As you both said 3, you tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Your fingers brushed her small braid. Your hand stayed by her face, cupping her cheek carefully. 

By the time you got to 2, you watched her nervous huff of breath like sudden fog in the cold air.

At 1, you leaned forward, and so did she.

As midnight arrived, you heard fireworks begin to pop across the city. You lost yourself in Natasha. You couldn't remember who you were before her lips had found yours.

Her fingers slipped into your hair as she encouraged you to kiss her again. She didn’t need to. You didn’t want to be anywhere else.

.

When you broke apart at last, there was a half beat where you weren’t sure what to do. 

‘Don’t laugh.’ Natasha told you seriously and you watched as she plucked the T-Rex arms from the front of her dress. You gave her a soft smile. You felt dazed, heavy with attraction and light with relief. 

In the first few seconds of the brand new year, you felt completely free.

You opened your arms when you realised Natasha’s intent. Natasha pressed herself against your chest and you wrapped your arms around her. The tip of her nose was ice cold when she buried it into the crook of your neck.

‘We’re the last two dinosaurs.’ She mumbled and her hot breath sent tingles down your spine.

‘We already survived the meteor.’ You smiled, arms tightening around her. 'It's going to be a good year.'

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the proposition of a lifetime - b.b.

✯ pairing:

best friend!bucky x fem!reader

✯ summary:

you're not very experienced with sex, your skill are minimal at best and you know your boyfriend wants to do more. so what's a girl to do? go to her best friend for training, of course.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of sexual tension, detailed descriptions of a blow job in a car, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) this was written way back in early 2023 i believe!

Bucky heard the faintest of knocks against his mahogany office door and as he glanced at the clock, he realized his sweet girl was just on time. Every Thursday at precisely three pm, you came to see him and the two of you had dinner together. It was a constant in the busy and the unknown and there was no better person to help you with your problem than your best friend, right? 

“Hey, pretty girl. How was your day?” 

He stood from the black leather beneath him and rolled the chair away from the desk with the backs of his knees. He was dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt. His day had been long, you could tell by the pale blue tie that was once around his neck laying draped across the back of his chair. He smiled at you and brought his arms open, gesturing for you to place yourself in between them – a proper greeting. 

"It was okay. Listen – I was kinda hoping you could help me with something.” you replied as Bucky ran his hands up and down your back. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, his mind immediately wondered if you were in trouble, his senses always heightened at the thought of danger, especially when it came to you. He pursed his lips for a moment before he traced your features with his eyes – you seemed upset, sad even; or was it embarrassment that coated your cheeks with heat? He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

"Tell me how your day was – for real.” He replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Then, I'll offer up my services, sweetheart.” 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes as he gave you that classic James Barnes smile – it was kind and coated with sexual appeal and it fit in with the creases of his eyes like a puzzle piece. 

“Okay – fine. My day was fine, Buck, nothing special about it. I’m just feeling insecure, I guess.” 

You averted his eyes, knowing he was going to give you some lecture about how perfect you are or try to kill whoever had made you feel that way. 

“What’s making you feel insecure, doll? Or, is it someone in particular? You know whoever it is, I'll kill them – just say the word.” 

His expression was stone cold, the same one you had seen him wear only in the face of the world’s most dangerous mobsters and criminals – just before he killed them. 

“You can’t kill my boyfriend, Buck.” 

Your tone was flat.

“Brad? Or whatever his name is? Of course, I can.” 

He snorted out, laughing as if he actually took your little comment seriously. 

“Doll, what’s going on? What did he do?” 

You threw your head back and your hands flew at your face, wiping down it roughly. 

“He hasn’t done anything, Buck. It’s me – the problem is me.” 

“Come on, doll – talk to me.” 

Bucky urged. 

"It's sorta... embarrassing." 

You replied, shyly, rubbing at your hands until they were white. 

"It’s just me – just Bucky, baby. You can talk to me.” 

He responded, grabbing your hands in his. 

“I mean, I've already talked to some of my friends about it, but they can't help me the way I want."

"Okay.” He said, wondering what kind of help she could need, ignoring his more perverted thoughts and his brain switching into protective mode, again wondering if she was in some sort of trouble. 

"Thank you, Bucky.” You beamed, bouncing again. 

This time, it was all he could do not to stare openly at the motion of your unrestrained boobs; gawking at your nipples that you hadn’t bothered to cover up underneath your shirt.

“It's my boyfriend, Brad. He's... he wants... well, what every guy wants. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I don't want him to dump me."

Bucky forced words out of his dry mouth, doing his best to ignore his growing arousal. "If you're not ready for something, don't do it."

"Yeah, I know. But I think I might be ready for, um, other things."

He only nodded in response in an attempt to hide as he was about to choke on his words. The girl he had been in love with for so long was actually talking about sex with him? 

"If your girlfriend wasn't ready for, you know... sex... what would have been enough for you not to look elsewhere?"

You almost whispered the word "sex," and your face took on a pink cast at the same time. Your apparent embarrassment, as well as a wave of protective feelings, aided Bucky in repressing what he knew to be inappropriate lust for his friend. He pondered how to answer her question.

"If he's pressuring you, he's not worth keeping, sweetheart.” He said, giving in to his protective impulses.

"You sound like my mom.” You pouted, arms crossed under your breasts. "What do you think as a guy?"

‘I dont blame him – i’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, doll.’ He thought, but he pushed it aside, attempting to craft an honest, but also responsible answer.

"As much as I could get, I guess.” He said, wishing he had come up with something else. "But I would be pushing you – or, whoever I was with." 

He quickly caught himself at the end of his sentence in an attempt to smooth things over enough where you wouldn’t notice what he had just said. 

"Did you ever get a blowie from a girl?"

It took Bucky a moment to understand what you meant, as he had never heard anyone refer to a blowjob like that before. Several more seconds passed before he could formulate a response.

"There was a girl I dated who... we explored each other in, um, several ways." 

He all but stuttered as he tried to speak, but he could feel his semi-erect penis as he tried to formulate a coherent thought. 

"But she went down on you, right?"

You questioned.

"Yes, she did. But she wanted to, um, explore. I would never have pressured her to do it." As the words left his mouth, he cringed at the truth they hid. He had not directly coerced the girl in question, but he knew she had felt pressure anyway. 

"And it was enough?" 

You asked him point blank. 

"It was more than enough.” He grinned. "But if she had not wanted to..." 

He trailed off.

"I don't know how to, um, give a blowie.” You spoke, suddenly shy and your eyes locked on the floor. "I want to... I mean, I want to make him happy and all, but... what if I'm not good at it?" 

You looked at him doe-eyed and full of anxiety and he almost busted right there – just looking at you.

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation.” Bucky replied, immediately regretting the words as they hit your skin and hurt filled your irises. 

"But I need your help. All my friends, at least the ones who've done it, say guys will like it no matter what. Some of them gave me pointers, and I've watched videos on the internet too, but... I think I need to practice first."

Your fingers stroked his forearm. Shining eyes met his, and he saw a plea in them. But his mind could not accept what his body, especially his cock, already had.

"I've heard some girls use cucumbers.” Bucky said.

"I've done that.” You said, "But cucumbers can't tell me whether I'm doing a good job or teach me to do it better. I need a man for that. A man who I know is a good teacher. I need you." 

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head at your response. He never in a million years thought that he’d see this day or that it would play out like this – you practically begging him to teach you how to suck a dick – his dick. 

"Y/N, I can't... we can't..." 

His objection was half-assed. 

"Please, Buck. I need your help."

You begged again. 

"Okay. But no one can know." His erection throbbed in his jeans at his words, and his heart hammered. Deep down in his mind, his conscience attempted to object, but he ignored it.

"It'll be our secret, Bucky," You squealed, before hugging him, your firm breasts pressing against his lower torso, your lower abdomen against his rigid cock. He hugged you back, stroking your soft hair, not thinking about any possible consequences.

"We can go to my house.” He suggested, breaking the hug. "Maybe use pillows from the couch for you to kneel on.” 

"Can we do it in your car? Brad has one, and that's probably where I'd do it with him."

Bucky hesitated, watching you chew your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. What you proposed made sense, but he suspected it would be easier for you to learn, as well as more pleasurable for him, if they were both comfortable. However, now that he was committed, he did not want to mess up the chance to be the first guy his sweet girl went down on.

"Sure.” He said. "It'll be a bit more awkward, but it will prepare you for later."

"Thanks," You beamed, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running around to the passenger side of the car. He watched your ass and wondered if Brad knew how lucky he was. Bucky didn’t have to wonder – he knew. 

Your cheeks were pink again as you sat on the bench seat and stared straight ahead, hands in your lap. For a moment, his guilt returned. Had you not pushed out your chest at that exact same time, Bucky might have backed out. But the sight of those firm, round tits encased by only your thin t-shirt proved to be too much. He buried his doubts and slid into the car.

"If we're parking, we need some music.” He told you, turning the key to accessory so the radio would come on. "Is classic rock okay?"

"I guess," you shrugged, still looking out the windshield rather than at him. That allowed him to watch your boobs bounce with the shrug.

He turned up the radio, took your hand as gently as he could, and moved it to the bulge in his dress pants. Your fingers lay there for a second or two before you moved them away.

"I'm not... um... can we make out first?" 

You questioned awkwardly.

"If you aren't sure about this..."

He started, but you interrupted reassuring him. 

"I'm sure, Buck," you said, interrupting and turning your eyes to him. "I just think I need to, uh... work up to it, you know?"

"Sure, doll," Bucky replied, running a finger down her cheek. 

He leaned close to you, smelling the scent of vanilla as he did, pausing for a moment to breathe you in. You moved your head back and blinked. He sat back up and patted the seat beside him. You chewed her bottom lip, then scooted next to him. He stroked your soft cheek again. You sighed and did the same to him. Your eyes never left each other's as he lowered his lips to yours. Any trepidation you might have been experiencing seemed to vanish the moment your lips met. You grasped the back of his head and pulled his mouth tighter to yours. His tongue pushed between your lips, only to meet yours. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around to face him. Your free hand traced up his forearm and his free hand clutched one of your boobs. He marveled at the combination of softness and firmness. You moaned into his mouth when he found your nipple and lightly rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He switched to your other boob and did the same thing. You moaned louder, which encouraged Bucky. Breaking their kiss, he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and started to lift it. He pulled the t-shirt over your head and up-stretched arms, mesmerized by your tits. They projected from your slender chest almost torpedo style, the tips capped with small, pink areolas and slightly darker nipples. Each more than a handful, he nonetheless did his best to grasp all of them as he dropped his mouth to one. Your fingers laced through his hair. You started to pull his face away, but reversed your effort as soon as he sucked your firm nipple between his lips and tongued it.

"Oh God, that feels good.” You groaned, pushing your chest out toward him. 

While he feasted on your magnificent breasts, he pulled your hand from his arm and into his lap. You hesitated, then your fingers closed around the length of his erection where it strained against the fabric of his pants.

"Your... thingy is very hard.” You whispered, your fingers tracing its outline.

"If you're going to suck it, you can say 'dick' or 'cock'," He told you, sitting up to look you in the eye.

"Your cock is very hard," you said, blushing. Still, your words were louder and more confident, and Bucky decided it was time to move their lesson forward.

"Take it out," He instructed, leaning his shoulders back against the seat.

Thin, soft fingers fumbled at the top button of his fly. Once you had it loose, you tugged, probably thinking that there would be a zipper. In what was probably less time than it seemed, you had his pants undone. He wiggled them down to mid-thigh, exposing his black boxer-briefs. Your fingers touched his dick through the soft cotton, and it jerked. You pulled your hand away a couple of inches and gasped, eyes darting up to his. He nodded to encourage you. After a deep breath, you ran your fingers up his length. This time, you did not stop when it moved at your touch.

"I've only felt Brad’s through his jeans. It's softer than I thought it'd be. But hard too. Really hard." 

You commented.

"Do you want to see it?" Bucky asked, and you nodded, eager eyes not leaving his crotch. 

He considered telling you to pull his briefs down, but he didn't want to wait. He freed his erection, which sprung straight up. You drew in a sharp breath, then touched his shaft with trembling fingers. His cock jerked to the side, but you never lost contact.

"Wrap your hand around it," He instructed, and you obliged. He groaned, fighting to keep his hips from thrusting up.

"It's bigger than I expected... and warm," you said, eyes meeting his, a grin on your face. "I didn't think... I mean, it makes sense but... this is... incredible." You gripped his dick tighter, squeezing it.

"Stroke up and down, doll.” 

You nodded then looked back down at his lap. Your fingers loosened and slid up and down the shaft a few times before wandering to the head.

"I love how soft the skin is even though it's so hard inside," you said before moving your thumb up the glans to the slit. "Is this cum?"

"Pre-cum." He said, resisting the urge to grab a fistful of hair and move your lips down to his crotch. "It leaks out when a man's hard."

"I didn't know that. So, when I suck your thing... your cock, it'll do that?" 

You questioned.

"Yes." 

He replied.

"Oh. Should I taste it now?"

"If you want."

You wiped up a glob of his fluid with your thumb and brought it to your mouth. Your tongue pushed out to taste it. A strange look crossed your face, and your gaze rose to his.

"It's... weird," you said. "Sweet and salty. And something like... soap? That's not it but...something..."

Shrugging, you sucked your thumb into your mouth, then pulled it out with a 'pop'. His cock twitched.

"Does cum taste the same?”

You questioned; intrigued with the idea of his manhood and just how it all worked. 

"Stronger, but similar." 

He responded, grinning ear-to-ear at your innocence and the part he was about to have in stripping it from you. He wondered how long it would be before you needed to ‘practice’ having sex before doing it with Brad – there’s nothing Bucky wanted more than to be your first everything. 

"I think I like it," you grinned. "But it's different than I expected. My friends who've tasted it said it's bitter or sour. But it's not." 

You commented.

"I think it's time for the next step." 

He said with a sly smile. 

"What should I do?" 

You questioned, awaiting his instruction.

"Kiss the tip."

You nodded, licked your lips, and leaned down into his lap. Your lips brushed the glans of his cock once, tentatively. The second time was surer. The third, you wrapped your lips around the very tip and sucked. His dick twitched in response, and you did it again. Bucky wanted to tell you to take more, but he saw that your position might be too awkward.

"Scoot back a little and lie on your tummy on the seat, doll.” He told you, and you complied, knees bent so your calves and feet stuck in the air. 

The change in position left your face hovering over his groin, and he nudged you downward. You took the hint, and seconds later, you slurped the entire glans of his penis in your mouth. He groaned, doing his best not to push harder on your head. He needed to let you do this in your own time.

"Move your tongue while you suck," He told you, and you wiggled it. "Yes... like that. Now take a little bit more down... watch the teeth.” 

You pulled up, alarmed eyes locking on his.

"Sorry..."

You trailed off.

"It's okay. It happens, especially for girls new to sucking cock. Try this, suck on your finger. Yes, like that. Now, scrape your teeth along it. It's a thousand times worse than that." 

You looked at him with wide eyes as you followed his instructions, apologizing again. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay. But you have to make sure your lips protect a guy from your teeth. Here." 

Bucky took your finger, sucked it into his mouth, his lips moving up and down it. You shuddered, and what sounded like a disappointed noise escaped your parted lips when he removed his mouth from your finger.

"Now, you try," He said, holding out his index finger. You wrapped your lips around it and slid them to the base then back up.

"Good, now add suction."

You did as instructed, hollowing out your cheeks. He’d always liked a woman sucking on his fingers, and you were certainly no exception.

"Very good, sweetheart.” He told you a few seconds later. "Now add some tongue movement. Oh yeah, just like that."

You attacked his finger, sucking hard, lips sliding up and down its length, tongue wiggling. ‘If you could do that to a cock, you’d have boys eating out of her hand’, Bucky thought to himself. 

"Okay, now do the same to my cock," He said. 

You pulled your lips from his finger, grinned, and dropped your face to his lap, giving the tip of his cock a wet kiss. Bucky groaned, bucked his hips, and applied what he hoped was gentle pressure to your head. You didn’t resist, sliding your lips - no teeth this time - down a couple of inches of his cock. He groaned again. Slowly at first, you bobbed your head up and down, concentrating your efforts on the first third or so of his shaft. A few times, you took at least half of his almost seven-inch length, but much more than that caused you to gag and back off.

"That feels fantastic.” He told you, and you turned your eyes up to meet his. You held each other's gaze for several seconds, but your suction on his cock never lessened and your tongue never stilled.

"Try going faster," He suggested, and you nodded. 

Facing down again, you picked up speed. As you did so, the slurping sounds around his shaft grew louder. He ran his fingers through your soft hair, resisting grabbing a fistful and forcing you to go even faster. As it was, the tempo caused his novice cocksucker to take more in on each downstroke, and the times that you gagged increased in frequency as well. It was all as hot as hell, and sooner than Bucky would have liked, he realized he had reached the edge of no return.

"That's so good, doll, I'm really close. Concentrate near the head. Yeah, that's... wait... a little deeper... yes... perfect. Suck hard. God yes. Harder."

You sucked on the first couple of inches of his dick. You’d pulled up too far at first and slurped on the overly sensitive glans. But now your lips tightened just below, and your tongue massaged it gently. He shifted in his seat, groaned, grasped your head, and exploded. The first spurt of cum into your mouth must have taken you by surprise, because you sputtered around his shaft and attempted to raise your head. 

Bucky held it in place, however, his hips bucked with each shot and given that you did not struggle more and were not gagging, he figured you had adjusted and were swallowing it all. As it turned out, he was quite wrong. After the last little bit of cum dribbled out of his cock, he dropped his hands from your head. You bolted upright, lips clamped shut, panic in your wide eyes. Rivulets of mascara formed under your moist eyelids. Lower, cum seeped out both corners of your mouth, adding to the flow already running down your chin.

"Swallow it, sweet girl.” He instructed after a couple of seconds. You whimpered, shaking your head. 

"It's the easiest way, baby," he shrugged. "Otherwise, it'll just make a big mess. Well, a bigger mess."

You whimpered again, closing your eyes, and swallowing. It took two tries to get it all down, and you shuddered afterward. A drop fell from your chin to one sweet, young tit and started to slide along its curve.

"Show me your mouth," He said, adding, "wider," when you opened it maybe an inch. You did as he asked, and he saw a little white residue in a mostly empty mouth.

"Good girl," He said, patting your head. She gave him a weak smile and wiped her eyes. Another drop of cum joined the first on her breast.

"Here, I'll help," He told her, using his finger to push some of the cum on her chin up to her lips. The girl hesitated, so he thrust his messy finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked his digit. He fed her the rest in the same way, finishing up with the two drops that had made it to her chest. After a few moments you looked at him, settled back into the passenger seat and gave him a smile, lowering your hand to his thigh. 

“Thank you, Buck – I owe you one.” 

He smiled in return. 

“So what’s your plan, doll? Are you going to use all these new skills on that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend?” 

He asked with a teasing scoff at the sound or more so the idea of Brad and you being intimate – it made him shudder. You rolled your eyes before placing his cheeks in your hands and brushing your nose against his. 

“Silly boy – I broke up with him two weeks ago.” 

You whispered before Bucky let out a giggle and eradicated the space in between the two of you, colliding into your lips with his. 

[snow-blower]

Insomnia is keeping me awake and making me think about the nightly stand-off that would happen between an insomniac-reader and the lovely workaholic Stark Man™️ of her choosing.

Like…

Him: “you should be in bed, my lady.”

Her: “as should you.”

Him: “I have work to do.”

Her: “Perhaps I do as well.”

Him: “we both know you do not. Go to bed, sweetling.”

Her: “join me in bed, and maybe I could sleep.”

Him: “I’ll be there when I’m done.”

Etc etc etc

A/N: All fluff, no angst, I swear. Got this ask and couldn't resist writing a lil something, something. Hope this satisfies Stark wives desires even if its a bit short :b

Summary: Robb is a workaholic, you, an insomniac. You can't sleep unless Robb is with you, but he can't sleep until all his work is finished. Cue the chaos of two very, very stubborn people.

Words: 1.4k

It’s late, and you know you should have retired to your chambers long ago, but what’s the point? You’d just end up laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, bored out of your mind. Like you do every night. You’ll be even more bored with the lack of your husband cuddled up to you.

Sleeping is a struggle that you’ve dealt with since you were just a babe. A struggle that worsened as you became a lady. It’s a struggle that not even the Maester’s vials of sickly liquid could fix. The only thing that helped was having your husband at your side as you slept.

The only issue with that is Robb is a workaholic. And a big one at that. He’s always working into the night, sometimes only returning to your chambers as the sun rises over the horizon. Most night’s you have to physically drag him back to bed. It seems like you may have to do the same tonight.

Strolling through the empty corridors, you follow the familiar path to Robb’s study, the room where you always find him.

Reaching the large wooden carved door, you push it open, peaking into the room. Filled with the gentle flickering glow of candles and flame from the hearth, you were able to spot your husband easily. Hunched over the wooden desk, elbow propped up on the dark surface and his chin resting in his palm, Robb looked almost as tired as you knew you looked yourself. 

Your voice called out his name gently as you stepped fully into the room. Robb perks up at the sound of your voice, your soft angelic words filling his ears.

"You should be in bed, sweet girl," he hums as you approach the desk. He reaches out, hand wrapping lightly around your wrist as he tugs you onto his lap. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you tucked safely against his chest.  Just the way he likes.

"As should you," you quipped back, and he rolled his eyes at your playful words, a tired grin spreading across his lips.

"I have work to do." He presses another kiss to your temple before burying his face in your hair, breathing in the scent of the lavender hair oil you always use and something uniquely you. "Important work." He adds on, trying to convince himself that his duties are, in fact, very important and that he should continue tending to them rather than focusing on his sweet wife on his lap.

"Perhaps I do as well," you shrug, hand reaching out to tangle in his soft auburn curls, working through the mess of tangles. Your mumbled response is playful, though your words were laced with a clear tiredness. The same tiredness he caught in your previous words.

Robb sighs at the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he leans into the touch like a puppy begging for pets and affection. "We both know that's a lie, sweetling." He huffs. "Go to bed."

Robb sighs once more as you shake your head in response, and he pulls back a little to get a better look at you. You were dressed in only a thin nightgown, your silky strands tied into a messy braid that hung loosely over your slim shoulder. There were dark circles under your usually sparkly eyes, and he just knows you haven't been sleeping well.

“Join me in bed, and maybe I’ll sleep.” Your soft voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he pulls you impossibly closer, wishing to never let you go.

You've never been able to sleep well. He's always coming back to your shared chambers to find you wide awake, waiting for him. You're only able to fall asleep once you're safe and sound in his arms.

“I’ll join you once I’ve finished this, darling.” Robb gently pats your hip, encouraging you to hop off his lap and return to your shared chambers. But you don’t move. You remain stubborn, fingers still toying with his curls as you stay comfortably seated in his lap. 

“Fine,” You huff. If he wished to remain in his study working, then you’d stay with him. You knew that, and he knew that.

Robb huffs, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement at your stubbornness. He knows if he doesn’t let you drag him to bed, that you yourself won't return either. And he would let you stay if not for the fact of him knowing just how tired you truly are.

“Alright,” Robb chuckles, “take me to bed then, you stubborn woman.” He lifts you off his lap, settling you between his legs with a hand on your hip. 

Letting you pull him up from the carved wooden chair, he watches a satisfied smile tug at your lips. He lets you lead him out of the study, snuffing out the few candles that were still lit on his way out. 

You both walk the familiar path back to your shared chambers, falling into step beside each other. The halls are still empty, filled with only the sounds of your footsteps and the occasional swish of wind. Everyone else had long since retired to their own chambers, you and Robb seemed to be the last ones awake.

The door to your shared chambers comes into view and Robb leads you towards it with his hand on the small of your back.

Robb holds the door open for you, letting you enter the room first like the true gentleman he is. The room is blanketed in darkness, the only light coming from the shine of the moon that floated in through the large, paned window. 

Greywind, who had been laying languidly by the hearth, glances up at the creak of the door opening. He rises from his lying position, making a beeline to you, circling your legs before plopping down beside you. The direwolf’s golden eyes meet yours, and you bend down to pet the spot between his ears, cooing softly as though he is still but a small pup who's eager for your affection—which he pretty much is.

Shutting the door, Robb turns to find that you’ve already crawled beneath the covers on the bed, the soft furs tucked up to your chin. Greywind lies at the foot of the bed, head resting on his large paws and his soft, warm body heating up your feet. Your tired eyes follow his movements as he unbuckles his armour, setting them down on the small table near the door with a clang.

He strips off the rest of his garments, glancing over at you as he feels your eyes on him. It's a heady feeling, knowing you're watching him, enjoying the view. 

“Enjoying the view, my darling?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, relishing in the giggle it pulled from you. 

“Perhaps.” You hum, tongue flicking out to wet your lips as he finally peels off his cotton undershirt, leaving him in just his breeches that hung low on his hips, exposing the V-shaped muscle and trail of fuzz that dipped beneath the hem. It was a sight for sore eyes. 

Robb grins, pleased, as you barely manage to force your eyes up to meet his own. “Perhaps?” He repeats, making his way towards the four-poster bed that dominated the room.

You bob your head in a soft nod, a displeased groan slipping from your lips as Robb pulls back the furs to climb in beside you, the cold hitting your skin almost immediately. 

Robb shushes you with that same grin, reaching out and wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you close, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he tucks you securely into his side. 

Tucking the furs back up to your chin, he cuddles in close. He sprawls one of his hands against the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him. 

“I love you,” he murmurs lovingly. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek as he dips down to give you a soft lingering kiss, his lips soft and gentle against your own. “So much.”

Pulling back, he strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb, smiling down at you softly. You smile back at him with equal softness. A light flush dusted your cheeks, and you can feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Despite how long the two of you have been married, he can still make you like the blushing maiden you were on your wedding night.

“I love you too, Robb,” Hiding your face against Robb’s chest, you felt his chest stutter in a light chuckle, clearly finding your embarrassment amusing, to which you huffed an annoyed sound.

Robb just grins against your hair, finding your sheepishness positively adorable.

[waywardxrhea]

Only You - Steve Rogers

pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Mutant!reader (no use of y/n, no details of powers mentioned)

Solo training with Steve unexpectantly leads to something more.

word count: 4,759

content: two idiots in love, combat training, language, fluff, SMUT! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! warnings below the cut!

smut warnings: strong sexual tension, public makeout session, steamy shower together, grinding, fingering, praise kink, Steve is a consent king, unprotected PIV sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, small amount of blood mentioned (because let's face it, Steve's hung lmao)

The last few months had turned your life as you knew it in a totally new direction. Before, you were working the streets of the Bronx as a vigilante with the powers you had been born with, hiding your identity behind whatever piece of clothing or accessory you were able to. Sure, the Avengers being around lessened the stigma surrounding mutants such as yourself, but there were still people who thought of you as unnatural. So, you stuck to working at night, keeping to the shadows and stopping criminals in their tracks with displays of power that kept the news and social media buzzing about who could be behind the mask. That was until one day you heard a knock on your door and came face to face with Maria Hill. How she figured out your identity was beyond you, but after hearing her proposition out, it was hard to say no to joining the new Avengers team. 

It wasn’t long before you found yourself training with the likes of the Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers, both of whom helped you refine your hand to hand combat style. You also trained a lot with Wanda, both of you learning to use your powers to work in tandem with the rest of the team. Vision and Rhodey knew how to keep you on your toes with their knack for battle tactics, and Sam had figured out how to push you to your limits in order to become the best you could be. 

During this time, you had started to grow fond of Steve, and apparently it was quite obvious to the others. When the team would get together for training sessions, you and Steve would end up paired together, and it always ended with snide remarks from the others as they tried to push the two of you together. Steve was super apologetic about their comments, and shut them down quickly when they started to become sexual, so you assumed that he simply didn’t see you that way. It hurt, but you knew that you needed to keep things professional, especially if he didn’t see you in the same way. 

Eventually, both you and Steve began to get worn out by the comments, so the two of you decided to spend some of your mornings training together one-on-one in order to avoid the distraction. One morning Steve woke up and made his way to your little apartment in the compound, knocking on the door gently when he got there. He waited politely for a minute or so for you to answer before pulling his phone out from his pocket to call you. 

When you heard the ringing of your phone, you rolled over in your bed as you felt around for the device on the nightstand. "Five more minutes?" you asked when you hit answer, the sound muffled slightly by your pillow. 

Steve chuckled as he said, "Those five minutes could potentially cost you your life. You said it yourself, you wanted to train more so you can be up to par with the rest of us."

You sighed, but started to get out of bed slowly, asking, "Can I have a couple minutes to get ready?"

"That you can," Steve replied.

A lazy smile made its way onto your face as you rubbed your eyes and got out from under the covers. You worked quickly to get ready, changing out of your pjs and into workout clothes before making your hair presentable and brushing your teeth, putting on deodorant last. These training sessions were something you very much looked forward to, so you didn’t want to waste any time. When you were done getting ready, you grabbed your phone off the charger on your night stand and made your way to the door of your apartment, asking, “You ready?” as you met Steve in the hall. 

“Let’s go,” he agreed as the both of you started walking toward the training area. The air was filled with mostly silence on the way, but it was broken by Steve telling you, “You know, I like doing this in the mornings, just us.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat as you did. 

“Yeah. I like spending time with you,” he said. A boyish grin made its way onto his lips as he added, “And if it means kicking your ass in combat training, that’s even better.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes as the two of you entered the gym where you began connecting your phone to the speakers. After finishing with that, you began jogging in place while asking Steve, "Ready to get your ass kicked, old man?"

“In your dreams!” Steve replied with a laugh. “I did wake you up early today though, so maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

"Why, thank you," you said with a sweet smile as the two of you began the workout. 

After a solid hour of weight training and cardio, Steve informed you that it was time for combat. You leaned against the wall, out of breath, as you said, "Okay, give me, like, two seconds to recover, Mr. Super Soldier."

Slipping into Captain mode, Steve told you, "In a battle you won't have two seconds to recover before an enemy attacks again."

Nodding, you took one last deep breath as you said, "That's fair.” You pushed off of the wall and said, “Okay, I'm ready. What move are we working on today?"

"Taking someone down from behind. You've gotten good at defensive moves if someone already has you pinned, but you need more work on your offensive moves. I've noticed that in training and on the missions we've been on together, you rely on your powers a lot for offense. You won't always be able to use them, so you need to know how to effectively get the jump on an opponent without them."

"Got it. Where do we start?" you asked. When you first started training with the Avengers, you learned quickly that using your abilities wasn’t always in the cards, especially against a quick hand-to-hand opponent such as Steve or Nat. And because of that, you had started to learn to fight without them. 

For the training, Steve walked you through multiple exercises for a little while before you started to get a grasp on them. "Okay, now that you've got those down, let's combine what you just learned with what you already know. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied with a nod. Your body was exhausted from the training, but you knew you couldn’t give up so close to the end of the session. You had to keep pushing, no matter how much your muscles were screaming at you to stop. 

So, you and Steve squared off for a few minutes, taking it easy before Steve kicked it up a notch. You dodged his punches skillfully, and turned on the offensive moves you learned in return when he backed down. When you blanked on one of the new moves Steve had taught you though, he took that as an opportunity to grab your arms from behind. Instinctively, you dove into a move Natasha had taught you to get out of Steve's grasp. Planting your right foot between Steve's feet and spinning your body into his, you were able to knock him off balance! While he was off his balance, you reached down and took a leg out from under him, sending him straight to the floor!

When you successfully got him there, you straddled Steve's body and pinned his arms to the mat as you smirked. "Gotcha," you said, a slight breathlessness to your tone. Both of your chests heaved from the need for oxygen, and your hearts raced due to the closeness of your bodies. Everything seemed to slow down as you gazed into Steve’s eyes. There was a fondness that filled them as he looked back at you with adoration, and as you got lost in that look, the grip you had on him loosened. 

"That was great, but there's just one thing," Steve said, breathlessly. Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion when he said this, and he took the moment to effortlessly flip you over onto the mat and pin you himself. “You’re distracted,” he finished, his body impossibly close to yours as he did. 

As the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, many thoughts ran through each of your minds, but they all ended in the same conclusion. These fantasies were dizzying, and that combined with the last two hours worth of training, you felt like the room was spinning around you, so much so that you didn’t realize that Steve was leaning in to close the small gap between your lips. When he did, your eyes closed in an instant as you sank into it, warm and soft and everything you ever imagined it would be to kiss Steve. 

You smiled into the kiss, and a pleased hum rumbled out of your chest as you wiggled one arm out of Steve’s grip to run your fingers through his blond locks. With your fingers locked into his hair, Steve deepened the kiss, a certain urgency behind his actions as he gave into his desire for you, letting his body take over and do what he had been dreaming about for weeks. 

The kiss quickly turned heated as the two of you melted into each other, teeth and tongues getting involved as you both chased after what you craved from one another. You hadn’t realized just how turned on the now steamy makeout session had gotten you, until Steve’s hardened member brushed over your core and you let an involuntary moan loose onto his lips. This seemed to kick you both back into reality, and you both realized where you were and the situation you were in, with cameras posted in the corners, and the doors unlocked where anyone could walk in any second. 

A sense of panic filled you both at the sudden realization, and you quickly separated, chests heaving in time with one another as you both sat on the floor across from one another. “I sh- We- I’m-” Steve started to say, a sense of embarrassment flooding his body as his mind processed everything. He was your Captain. Your leader. He shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. He should have asked permission to kiss you. He-

“Come back to my place,” you said in a moment of boldness, your mind and body reeling from the heated makeout session. You weren’t usually so straight forward with things like this, but all subtlety went out the window when Steve kissed you like that. You wanted more. You needed more. 

So did Steve. So, with a smile on his swollen lips, he nodded, telling you, “Lead the way.”

The two of you made it back to your little apartment in record time, and when the door closed, Steve immediately had you pinned to it as his lips reconnected with yours. When Steve’s hands started wandering under your tank top, you realized just how sweaty you were from the training session, and it made you suddenly insecure. If this was going where you hoped it was, you didn’t want your first time with Steve to start with you as a sweaty mess. 

Steve noticed that you had suddenly stopped kissing him back as passionately, so he pulled away for a moment to rest his forehead on yours as he said, “Everything okay? I-I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“No, no! You’re not!” you told him quickly, shutting down the idea nearly as fast as it left his mouth. You felt your cheeks flush as you mumbled, “I just feel gross being all sweaty after that workout is all…” There was a beat of silence before you asked bashfully, “Join me in the shower?”

“I would love that,” Steve said, eyes closing for a moment as he thanked his lucky stars for this moment. 

Taking Steve’s hand, you guided him to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom, a giddy laugh leaving your chest as you did. When the two of you got into the bathroom, you wrapped Steve in one more embrace as you kissed his lips, unable to get enough of him. As you did, his hands wandered once more under your tank top, sending shivers up your spine as he gripped the fabric and began to gently tug it upward. This signalled you to break the kiss reluctantly in order for the both of you to start stripping to get into the shower. 

When you were both out of your clothes, you stepped into the large shower and adjusted the water to a suitable temperature before stepping under the stream and gesturing for Steve to step in too. He pulled you in for a sweet, yet brief kiss before you reached for one of your more neutral smelling soaps to use on him. Standing behind Steve, you lathered some of the soap on your hands before you began running your hands over his back in long, languid strokes. You could practically feel the tension in his muscles melting away as you massaged at his shoulders before running your soapy hands down his muscular arms, his inadvertent flex not going unnoticed by you. 

After finishing with his back and arms, you gently spun him around and shared a loving gaze for a moment before you gathered more soap in your hands to work on his front half. You started with his chest, fingers running through the hair he had there before moving lower, your fingers gliding over his chiseled abdominal muscles. While you worked him over like this for a few moments, his head lulled back in bliss. He had never felt more relaxed than in this moment with you. What had started as a heated moment had turned into something much more, and it made his heart soar to know that he had you taking such care of him in that moment. He knew that he had to do the same for you. 

Opening his eyes to look at the array of scents in front of him, Steve ended up choosing the one he liked the most on you, taking a handful of it and lathering it together in his hands before beginning to run them along your back in small, soothing circles. Steve’s hands moved to your waist and hips next, his heart rate picking up as he got closer to touching you in such an intimate way. Seeming to sense his hesitation, you leaned in for a kiss, and that was all Steve needed to bring his hands just that much lower, running over the curve of your ass before giving it a gentle squeeze. 

An almost imperceptible sigh escaped you when he did this, and it only emboldened Steve further as pleasure sparked through his body once again. Turning you around so your back was to him, Steve placed a kiss to your shoulder before he began massaging soap onto them, the gesture making a small groan of pleasure slip past your lips. The workout had taken a lot out of you, and your muscles were killing you, so Steve’s large and skilled hands felt like absolute heaven. 

You got so lost in the feeling of Steve’s hands that you didn’t even realize when they moved from your shoulders around to your stomach before moving up to caress your breasts. Blood rushed south as Steve’s hands began lathering soap onto your chest, his fingers slipping over your nipples being the single most pleasurable feeling you had experienced in a while. Your heart pounded in your chest as you relaxed into Steve’s body, quiet whimpers leaving your throat as he tweaked the sensitive buds that had hardened under his ministrations. 

They weren’t the only things that had hardened as Steve pleasured you, though. As you leaned into Steve’s solid form, you felt his impressive length pressed against your backside, warm and velvety smooth as he pressed his hips firmly into you. His lips met the space right below your ear, where he kissed you softly as one of his wandering hands inched down your stomach and to the top of your thigh. His fingers lingered where they were for a moment, merely caressing your thigh as Steve’s deep voice rumbled out, “May I?”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment as you nodded fervently, a breathy, “Y-yes, please,” leaving your mouth as your heart pounded in your chest in anticipation. 

Within moments, one of Steve’s fingers had found your most sensitive bundle of nerves, and you let out a quiet moan as he began gently massaging it. The feeling of how wet you were caused Steve to rut his hips into your backside, his desire to have you then and there nearly outweighing the need to prepare you to take him. As you ground your hips back into his, Steve chuckled before asking, “That feel good?” applying more pressure on your clit as he did, the action causing a whimper to escape you once more. 

“God, yes,” you sighed, your head lulling back onto Steve as pleasure steadily built deep in your core. 

“Here, follow me,” Steve said as he pulled his hand away for a moment, leading you toward the marble shower bench sitting opposite the showerhead. 

Steve sat down first, angling himself into the corner and putting one leg up onto the bench while pulling you down to sit between his thighs. He let out a low groan as you adjusted yourself into a comfortable position, your back rubbing against his now throbbing cock. Once you were settled, Steve wasted no time going straight back to massaging your clit for a moment before running his fingers through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. The teasing didn’t last too long, though, and before you knew it, Steve plunged a digit into your core, pulling a deep moan out of you as his long fingers reached that spongy spot inside your walls within a few seconds. The continuous stimulation of the spot turned you into a squirming mess, moaning wantonly as the pleasure continued to mount within your core. 

Without a warning, Steve slipped another finger into the mix, his other hand moving down from your breast to your clit as he continued his ministrations. It took you a few moments to accommodate for the stretch, but once you did, you began teetering on the edge of your orgasm as Steve’s skilled fingers pumped into you, twice the amount of stimulation sending you barrelling toward your end. A few seconds later, the coil in your abdomen snapped, and your back arched as pleasure sparked through your whole body, your hips twitching uncontrollably as your orgasm washed over you. With his fingers still working inside of you, Steve held down your hips with his other hand as he kissed along your neck, mumbling things like, “That’s it,” “I’ve got you,” and “Good girl,” the last one causing a loud moan to slip past your lips and make Steve chuckle. 

Once Steve had removed his fingers from your core and you had regained your senses, he moved to stand the two of you up and under the shower water once more. With the suds from the soap thoroughly rinsed away, Steve turned off the shower before pulling you into another kiss. You giggled into this one before pulling away and grabbed both of you towels to dry off. 

After you finished drying off, you leaned into Steve for a kiss, your hand ghosting over his hard cock as you did. “I think we should do something about this not so little problem, don’t you?” you asked with a quiet laugh as Steve let out a pleasure-filled sigh. 

“What did you have in mind?” Steve asked, not wanting to overstep his bounds. He wanted to leave the next step up to you, without his influence. 

“How about you and me in my bed?” you asked in a sultry voice. You leaned in close to his ear and nipped at his ear lobe before whispering, “I wanna feel you. Fill me up and ruin me. I only want you.”

This response nearly made Steve lose it then and there. His body began taking over when you said that, and rather than responding verbally, Steve picked you up and began carrying you back into your room, his lips locked on yours as he did. The confirmation that you wanted exactly what he did, and that you felt the way he did, made his heart soar, and he knew that he was going to make this special for you. For both of you. 

After tossing you gently onto the mattress, Steve made his way back to your lips, hovering over you as he kissed you with more gentleness than before. One of your hands rested on Steve’s huge bicep while the other snaked back behind his head and ran through his damp hair as he pulled away from your lips and trailed kisses over your jaw. “Are you sure about this?” he mumbled against your skin. 

“One hundred percent,” you promised, a pleased hum leaving your throat as he kissed your neck. 

“Okay,” he said, a bright smile on his lips once again as he grabbed his sensitive cock and began running it through your soaked folds. 

“Oh…! P-please…” you whispered as you felt his blunt head getting close to your entrance, but never quite pushing in. The need to have him inside of you was eating you alive, and the relentless teasing was doing nothing to help. Hoping that it would push him along, you wrapped your legs around his waist and rutted your hips into his. 

In response to your actions, Steve finally lined himself up and pushed in, the feeling of you enveloping him overwhelming in the best way. He was knocked out of the pleasure clouding his mind though when he heard you take in a sharp breath, your face scrunched up a little in pain as he pushed in. Seeing the look, he paused his movement, asking, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I just need a second to adjust, is all,” you replied, slightly intimidated by his size. Now you understood why he needed to prepare you in the shower…

“Tell me when I can move,” Steve replied, not wanting to hurt you. “Just relax, you’re doing so well,” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, massaging your hip as he did. The praise sent more blood rushing south that seemed to relax you some, and a few more moments passed before you finally nodded. When you did, Steve made gentle and small thrusts in and out as he pushed further into your warmth until he was fully sheathed inside of you, burying his face into your neck as he whispered, “Oh, fuck…” 

A quiet whimper left your lips before you gently pushed your heels into Steve’s back, silently telling him to move. So he did, his thrusts still small and gentle at first before turning to long and languid strokes, hitting all the right places as he pushed in and out of you. The pleasure was all consuming, and sinful noises began falling out of you like water from a leaking faucet. These sounds made Steve pick up his pace as he chased his own pleasure while listening to the beautiful noises he was dragging out of you. 

The combination of your warmth around him and the sounds of pleasure leaving you brought Steve close to the edge after a little while of bliss, and his thrusts began to become erratic as the pleasure built along his spine. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m close! Where-?” Steve rushed out as he felt his balls begin to tighten, his orgasm only moments away. 

“Inside! Inside! P-please! I-I’m on the pill!” you breathed, craving the warmth of being filled in the most intimate way by Steve. 

Another, deeper, “Fuck!” slipped past Steve’s lips as he buried himself to the hilt when his orgasm took over his body, his pleasure spilling onto your contracting walls as your own orgasm suddenly overtook you as you felt his warmth spurting into you. Steve rocked his hips into yours a few more times as he placed sloppy kisses all over your neck before he collapsed on top of you, your heaving chests moving in chaotic synchrony with one another. 

When you finally gathered your bearings, you couldn’t help but laugh quietly as you mumbled, “The mouth on you… And here I was under the impression that you don’t curse.”

“Well, when the circumstances warrant…” Steve replied, a sheepish chuckle falling from his lips as he rolled off of you, pulling out as he did. When he sat up a bit to adjust himself on the bed, he spotted a bit of red combined with his release, and his eyes widened as he quickly asked, “Did I hurt you?”

Unaware of what Steve had seen, you were confused for a moment as you replied, “Other than the initial sting, no. Everything okay?”

“You’re bleeding. I’m sorry, I-” he started to say remorsefully before you pulled him down and into a gentle kiss to shut him up. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You just hit my cervix. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve been told.” You let out a sheepish laugh before admitting, “This hasn’t exactly happened to me before… You’re definitely the biggest I’ve been with…”

After saying this, you began to sit up, but this time, it was your turn to be shut down with a kiss. As he kissed you, Steve eased you back down into the pillow before pulling away and telling you, “Stay here, I’ll clean you up.”

It wasn’t more than a minute before Steve came back with a warm wash cloth that he gently pressed to your sensitive folds as he cleaned you up from his mess. You cringed at the initial touch, the stretch of Steve’s member was more than you anticipated, and you just knew you would be feeling it later… You were broken away from your thoughts when you heard Steve’s soft voice ask, “Was that all okay?”

“It was all perfect,” you assured him, sealing the statement with a quick peck to his lips as he tossed the cloth back in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Just like you,” he flirted, the smile evident in his voice as he uttered the words. 

When you got a good look at him after he said this, you saw a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and you laughed as you said, “You just gave me the most pleasurable sex I’ve had in my life, don’t go getting shy on me now!”

“Hard not to when feelings as strong as mine are for you are involved…” he confessed, pulling you into his strong embrace. 

“Well, then good thing I have just as strong feelings for you…” you told him, heat now creeping onto your cheeks as you cuddled into his chest. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice resonating in your ear and making you feel so safe in his embrace. You heard his heart rate spike for a moment before saying, “Well, how ‘bout we do this the right way now, and I take you on a date tonight?” 

“I would love that,” you replied, smiling all the while. 

And so, that evening you and Steve went on a date you could only describe as magical. He pulled out all the stops, from showing up with flowers to opening doors for you, to a very nice dinner, before going to a nearby park for a sunset stroll. By the end of the night, you both ended up in his bed with him somehow outdoing himself from earlier! He had lined the room with rose petals and had little tea light candles to set the mood. He knew your muscles were sore from training that afternoon, so he started off with a massage that turned heated the second he dragged a sinful moan from your lips. As the night drew to a close, you both knew that there would be relentless teasing coming from the others from then on, but Steve had asked you to officially be his girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier.

a/n: well, that was super unhinged and horny, whoops! i just got into a Steve Rogers mood and had to get this out of my system! portions of this one shot are directly from my Captain America Professional Best Friend fic, i just changed it a lot in order to fit this narrative. this sorta started as an AU, but then turned into its own thing, whoops lol i had a blast writing this, and hope you had the same fun reading it ;)

anyways, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3