#this has honestly been so good for me and has opened my third eye

[giogiobb]

Off The Radar

Guem Seong-Je x Reader

tags: vulgar language, sadomasochism, smut, shotgunning, smoke play, choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, scratching, biting, auralism, cream pie, pet names, mildly toxic relationship.

Takes place after the scene in episode 7 where Seong-Je saves Jung-Tae from the union members.

It has been a few days since you heard from Seong-Je, and honestly, it’s not a big surprise that he is off the radar again. However, he always calls you on the third day at the latest. He left you wondering why it was different this time, and the radio silence from him was starting to become troubling.

You sat at your desk, bouncing your leg up and down, anxiously chewing away on your fingernails. Reaching towards your phone, you hurriedly found his number and tried to reach him again. “The number you dialed is not available…” Voicemail, again.

You stood up and started pacing around your room, wondering what to do and how to find him. You weren’t the biggest fan of Na Baek-Jin, but he was your best option at this point.

You went through your contacts and found his number to call him. “Hello?” an uninterested voice came from the other side. “Hi, Baek-Jin. How are you?” You spoke with hesitation. “What do you want from me? Don’t know where Seong-je is?” He asked with annoyance. “Actually, yeah. Can you tell me where he is?” You asked nervously. “Hmm.” He said after a bit of silence and hung up on you.

A minute later, he texted an address. It’s an address to a warehouse that you had never heard of. You quickly thanked him and sneaked out of the house without alerting your parents. Though they wouldn’t even care if they saw you leave.

You ran your way there as it surprisingly wasn’t too far away, and your fear of not seeing him even tonight grew a pit in your stomach, making you rush. You reached there and took a moment to catch your breath before sliding the door open and walking in.

His head shot towards the sound of your foot shuffling in, almost dropping his newly lit cigarette onto the ground. He looked confused and stood up to walk towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief before lunging yourself at him and hugging him with all the strength you could gather. “I missed you. Were you here all this time?” You asked with a hint of worry. “What are you doing here?” He asked in his raspy voice. You let go of him and looked towards his face. Caressing a fresh scar on his face, you smiled softly until you realised that he hadn’t called you for days, for no fucking reason. Slowly, your expression changed from shocked to anger, and before you knew it, you slapped him across the face.

The cigarette in his mouth went flying to the other side of the room. He slowly turned his head to you with his jaw locked in anger. “What the fuck was that for?” He asked sternly. “You haven’t called me for days, what’s wrong with you? You usually send me a text at least.” You shouted at him with annoyance. However, slapping him and shouting at him was the last thing he needed from anybody, especially not from his girlfriend. His pent-up anger was not going to do either of you any good tonight, and he knew it.

He glared at you before reaching his hand to the back of your head and began dragging you towards the couch by your hair to push you onto it. It took you a second to realise that you had fucked up as he scowled towards you before reaching into his pocket and getting a new cigarette. He lit it and took a long drag of smoke from it before sighing.

He bent down to your eye level before gripping both your cheeks using his hand with bloody knuckles. It felt so harsh to the point that your eyes started to tear up in fear. Seong-Je isn’t a bad boyfriend, but he has his moments which make you fear him, and this was one.

He took a slow drag of the cigarette, eyes locked in with yours, and blew the smoke towards your face. You felt yourself start to cough because of it, but his grip on you became stronger until he spoke. “Though you’re my girlfriend, what gives you the right to slap me, huh? You think you’re so tough, princess.” You began squirming in your seat, uncomfortable, scared, and aroused.

A little secret about you is that you love when Seong-Je is terrifying. You love when he speaks to you sternly in his low voice, because you trust him enough to know that he would never truly hurt you. He noticed your squirming before letting go of your face with a harsh enough push to be thrown onto the couch. 

You moved up towards the couch when you saw him get on the couch to climb towards you while taking a long drag of smoke. You didn’t know what his next move was and it made you curious. He grabbed your throat and bent down to kiss you roughly. Shotgunning smoke into your mouth, teeth clashing and saliva dripping from the sides. It felt as if you both were fighting for dominance but of course, he easily won and pushed his tongue into your mouth exploring it. You felt the smoke taste in the back of your throat and his glasses dug deep into your cheeks which hurt to the point that you reached towards it and pushed it over his head. He pulled away and reached for the glasses to set it down on the table next to you both before resuming with the kiss. Both your hands were now wrapped around his bloody hand that was on your throat to try and remove it. As the minutes went on, you felt the lack of oxygen in your body.

He finally lets go and you gasp trying to take in as much air as you can into your lungs. He looked at you with a smug smirk on his face as you struggled to breathe. You felt his hands reach towards your shirt and unbutton it slowly. You reached towards his zip-up hoodie and began unzipping it as your hands trembled with desperation.

He took his hoodie off and then pulled your shirt from your arms and tossed it to the side before unbuckling your bra and doing the same to it. You suddenly felt shy when you realised how naked you were compared to him. You tugged his shirt that was under the hoodie indicating that he should take it off. “What, should I be as naked as you now?” He asked teasingly. You nodded shyly, all while hiding your breasts under your arms.

He obliged accordingly, because he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. Maybe even more than you did. He grabbed your arms with one hand and pinned them above your head onto the couch before grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it while licking the other like a hungry animal. You felt yourself become wetter, making you arch your chest towards his face, wanting more. He left little nips and hickeys across your chest and neck before moving to lick your stomach.

He let go of your hands and looked upwards at you before biting the elastic waistband of your shorts to pull it down. Your hand went onto his hand that was still on your chest, and you moved it to your nipple, wanting some more friction to try and relieve how aroused you felt. 

He used his other hand to take off both your panties and shorts fully and placed his cigarette on the table next to you both. Afterwards, he settled his hands on your waist, gripping it tightly as he dipped his face down towards your heat, giving it kitten licks just to tease you. Your hand flew towards his hair to try and push his face towards you more, wanting to reach climax. He began licking you more aggressively, mouth covered in your wetness.

You couldn’t help but start rolling your hips against his face and moaning loudly as he stimulated your clit. His one hand reached downwards and circled your entrance before plunging two fingers into you. He began fucking you with his fingers that reached deep inside you. You felt yourself going lightheaded with all the stimulation that was starting to become too much. You indicated this by trying to push his face away from you.

He looked up when you began trying to push him away from you. He began getting more excited feeling you try to fight the pleasure he gave you. His hand easily took both of your hands and locked them into place like before and began kissing you making you taste yourself all while fucking you with his fingers. He felt himself growing a boner in his pants, which was starting to become bothersome because of how aroused he was. Not even seconds after he began kissing you, the climax washed over you aggressively, making you moan into the kiss.

He slowly let go of your hands and lips to examine your fucked-out face that was filled with bliss as you slowly caught your breath. He removed his fingers from you, making you shiver a bit. He then moved to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He took his belt and brought your hands together to restrain it, before flipping you over onto your stomach. “Ass up, beautiful.” He quietly spoke into your ear before biting it. You felt the pain of the bite, making you quickly obey his words.

He gave his cock a few pumps before burying himself in your wetness. He groaned in satisfaction, because believe it or not, he missed you so much, even though he would never say it to your face. You felt so full and was trying to adjust to his size after weeks of not doing it, as you both had been busy even before he went off the radar.

He began a slow pace before fastening, creating a rough rhythm, making you whine and making him moan. He reached over to the cigarette to take long drags of smoke while fucking you. After all, doing it with you was ecstasy to him because he worshiped your body like no other. While he did love you so much, he also loved to see you cry in pain.

An idea popped into his head as he was fucking you, which caught you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt hot circles of burn on your butt. It didn’t take you long to realise that he was putting off the cigarette on your butt. You panicked and began fumbling with his belt on your wrists. “What are you doing?” You asked hurriedly, trying to see. He chuckled and said, “What do you think?”

He then tossed the cigarette to the side before licking his hand to calm down your burn marks. You quietly sobbed as he did it because, one, it hurt and two, it felt good at the same time that you felt embarrassed. He noticed that you were crying and couldn’t help but smile. He reached to your hair and pulled your head up from it and took a good look at your face before licking your tears and peppering your face with kisses. You couldn’t help but whimper as you felt loved, how ironic. He whispered in your ear, “You know I love you, right?” You knew very well, after all, he was always loyal to you no matter how he treated you at times.

He always looked after you when you felt down about anything. Whenever a guy would even look at your way or try to approach you, he would be like a guard dog ready to fight them off. He treasured you a little too much to the point that he was scared of how possessive he felt over you. “Yes my love, I know.” You croaked out weakly but happily.

He flipped you over to admire your face while he fucked you deep. He placed a palm of his hand on your lower stomach while holding your waist so he could feel himself fuck you. This pressure pushed you over the edge making you see stars and made him groan.

After a while of doing so, he got rid of his belt on your wrists so you could reach out to him and hug him as he fucked you to reach his climax, but Seong-Je always puts your sexual needs above his and makes you reach it before him.

He kissed you as he held you close, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingernails scratched his back with aggression. He locked his eyes onto yours before giving a few final thrusts which made you both reach the climax together. You couldn’t help but bite his shoulder to mask your moan as he filled you up with his cum. This made him moan and groan a little too loudly than he would’ve preferred, which you loved.

You let go of his shoulder and peppered a few kisses from his shoulder to his face while caressing it. He pulled out of you and laid beside you while breathing heavily and hugging you close to him.

You felt his heart beat loudly against his chest. At this point, you didn’t even care for an explanation as to why he gave you radio silence for longer than you would’ve liked. He was there, and you were in his arms; it was all you needed to feel all the comfort in the world.

hope you guys enjoyed this. ♡

word count: roughly 2260 words

[chuluoyi]

𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

- zayne x reader

as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy & sex, mentions of complications related to pregnancy, brief description of childbirth (c-section), hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here)

note: part 2 to nocturne of twilight. my god, i honestly didn't expect it'd turn out into another 8k fic but here we go :')

Lately, Zayne has come to realize just how much joy you bring to home when you’re happy.

Your smile and giggles simply light up the place.

And moreover, you get happy at the simplest of things—head pats, his snowmen... Even when he responds with jabs just to get a rise out of you, there's always a part of his heart that softens.

Today began just like one of those joyful days. He dropped you off at the Hunter Association base before heading to the hospital, and later, he planned to pick you up and perhaps stop for macarons on the way home—

Or so he thought, until...

"Hello, Dr. Zayne! Sorry for startling you. Can you come to my office? Your wife just collapsed and she is brought here."

. . .

Zayne raced to Dr. Munson's office on the third floor, panic gradually overtook his every step. His mind whirled with all the possible reasons you might end up at—

Ob-gyn office. Wait, what?

The realization struck him just as he flung open the door to his colleague’s office.

"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" Dr. Munson greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin.

Zayne gave a quick nod but bypassed him to head straight to the bed where you were.

You looked pale and sluggish, your eyes squeezed shut. He immediately took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him there.

"Zayne..." you murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and offering a faint smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched your cool cheek.

"A bit dizzy..."

Seeing you so meek made something inside him lurch. Just this morning, you had been full of life, pouting and playfully teasing him, and now you looked so exhausted.

"Well, maybe you already know this, Dr. Zayne, but still, congratulations!" Dr. Munson clapped his hands merrily. "Your wife is pregnant!"

Pregnant. Zayne stood frozen for a moment. In truth, while the very thought flitted in his mind from the moment he walked in, it didn't make it less surprising all the same. "I see..."

Then he turned to look at you, and to his surprise, you looked away, a shy smile played at your lips, as if you were trying to make yourself as small as possible.

A child. You were with child. His child.

"How far along?"

"Almost ten weeks, give or take. Well, aren't you the one who knows the most?"

"Is she alright? Anything I need to watch out for?"

"Ooh! How sweet!" Dr. Munson laughed crisply. "The cool-headed Dr. Zayne is worrying about his wife! The nurses are going to have a field day when they know this~"

Zayne shot him a look, but didn’t miss a beat as he retorted, "Of course I am."

You looked up at him silently, your heart fluttering at his earnest response. Zayne had always been resilient, but now he seemed more dashing than usual as he fired questions after questions at Dr. Munson about you and the baby.

Baby... both of you were going to become parents. It still felt surreal, but with Zayne’s warm grip on your hand, it began to feel real. You were almost giddy.

But then, it struck you— the baby was around ten weeks.

Then it meant the day of the conception was that night.

. . .

“Here, hold onto me.”

Zayne opened the door to his car and supported you as you carefully stepped out. You were still unsteady on your feet, so he returned you back home to rest rather than heading back to the Hunter Association’s base.

“Have you been feeling unwell these past few days?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you made your way inside. “Usually, the symptoms have been noticeable for a while.”

“Hmmm,” you pursed your lips, feigning coyness. “I... don’t think so?”

Zayne quirked an eyebrow, sending you a withering stare as he realized your ruse. “So you have.”

“Hehe...” you flashed him a sheepish grin, causing him to shake his head in exasperation and pinch your cheek. “Ow!” you squeaked, quickly bringing your hand to your face.

Zayne stifled a smile, then gently guided you to the sofa. He crouched down in front of you, meeting your gaze as he took both of your hands in his.

"You need to tell me these things from now on, alright?" he said, and his steadfast gaze made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"We..." you started, steeling yourself, "are going to have a baby," you gulped, feeling heat spreading to your cheeks.

He was unfazed. "Mm, we are."

You shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze. "Are you... happy?"

Your voice wavered at the end, and your hand felt clammy. Suddenly, your stomach too twisted with nausea. Who would've thought that you would conceive a baby from a night that he called a mistake?

However, Zayne tilted his head, seemingly taken aback. "I am."

"Huh?"

"I am happy," he repeated, blinking back at you. "Are you?"

You gaped, caught off guard by his candid response—but then again, when had your husband ever been anything but straightforward?

"But you don’t seem happy!" you accused, pursing your lips. "You’ve been frowning the whole way home."

He shot you a flat look, his expression unchanged. "This is just my face."

You continued to pout, and Zayne sighed. His frown softened as he gently cupped your face, making you look up at him.

"You silly girl, what husband won't be thrilled when they hear that his wife is expecting?" he caressed your face, before poking it. "I'm just worried about you, you still look pale."

"You..." your eyes found his uneasily, at a loss of words. "But this baby is…" Your gaze dropped, anxiety swelling. "From… the night of—"

Your response stunned him, and you didn't dare to look him in the eye. It was still something that gnawed at you inside, because what if—

What if he thought this baby is a mistake?

In that moment, understanding dawned on him. His ashen eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself for his reaction, but then—

His hand rested on your head, patting you gently. "You carrying our baby..." he faltered, gazed fixed on your averted eyes and then lips. His voice came almost in a whisper:

"This... is the best thing that has happened to me."

Thump! Your heart soared, warmth flooding through you in that very instant as you met his gaze. On the contrary, Zayne felt a crushing weight seeing the tears shining in your eyes. How deeply had he hurt you before that you’d doubt his feelings?

"I promised you that I’ll treasure you better," he said, pulling strands of your hair behind your ears. "This time, let me prove it to you."

Somehow you felt like crying at the sheer sincerity in his words. "You... like the baby?"

A gentle smile touched his lips as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I do. Truly."

"I... am so happy too," you finally choked up, the first tear slipping down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, feeling a bit silly for tearing up. "I... have always wanted us to be a family..."

Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out an exasperated but fond sigh. "A certain someone really does like to cry... And now with a baby on the way, am I going to lose my mind worrying about both of you?"

"Hmph," you wrinkled your nose. "A certain dad-to-be better work on his skills to express himself better, then."

"I'm going to focus my energy on more important things, such as thinking of all ways I should do to keep you from getting into trouble."

"...? I don't get into trouble!"

"You stumble even on empty air, I've seen it myself."

Two years ago, you had envisioned your happily ever after with him, and then you weren't sure if you would get it at all. And now, as you walked towards a new beginning together, you were wholly certain.

At least, that was what you thought.

The days following the reveal of your pregnancy were filled with bliss.

Only that, sometimes... you ask for tall order—

"Zayne... I want that plushie..."

"We have tried it three times already. That machine is rigged."

"B-but! Look, that couple won some!"

Some weeks later, the two of you were at an arcade, and your eyes were literally shining as soon as you saw the Happy Snowman plushie in the claw machine.

And ever since, you had been tugging at his sleeve and dragging him to catch it for you... only to no avail so far.

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "With the way you’re acting, no one would believe you’re about to become a mom."

"Isn't that the whole point?" you fired back, puckering your lips, before mustering your best puppy eyes and bringing your hands together. "Please? Baby wants it so much."

He knew you were using the baby card just to get your way, but you looked so adorable doing it that it often worked—evident from how he lined up once more for the long queue at the claw machine.

"This is the last time," he decided, giving you a flat stare when you two reached your turn. "If we lose, we're buying the one in the souvenir shop."

"Teehee~" you giggled in delight. You'd get your plushie either way. Zayne was always listening to you even with his grumbles, and it made you inwardly kick your feet in joy.

Despite being cross, Zayne was better at this than you. He almost snagged some plushies several times, and this time, he skillfully maneuvered the claw, pressing the button with precision—

“Oh!” Your eyes sparkled as the claw secured your prized Happy Snowman. “Zayne! Just a little more!”

"Yeah, yeah..."

Just like that, the claw released the snowman into the hole. As soon Zayne handed it to you, you practically squealed. "Ahh! Finally I got you!"

You were so full of childlike excitement, even though you were just months away from bringing a child into the world yourself. Zayne watched you silently, and despite himself, a soft smile tugged at his lips.

"Do you want more?" he asked. "We still have three chances left."

"Yes!" You beamed at him. "I want the penguin and crow!"

Apparently, he was weak to your wishes. He then took the machine again, and maybe luck blessed him this time because soon enough, he got you two of them right after the chances ran out.

“Hehe! We’re bringing them home!” You patted each plushie with delight, your giggles drawing the attention of nearby kids.

"Mom, look! That uncle gets many plushies!"

Zayne felt his eyes twitch. Uncle...?

You tried and utterly failed to hold back your laugh.

And you heard another couple bickering nearby as they threw glances at you and your husband—

"I want that crow plushie..." the woman lamented, despondently eyeing the claw machine and the three plushies Zayne had managed to win for you.

Her boyfriend, a scary-looking tall man with red eyes and rider garbs, turned to her with a snort. "Why would you even need that ugly crow for? We have crow at home."

"...Mephisto doesn't count! You're just saying that because your luck and skill are trash!"

"Tch. I can open a whole arcade just so you can tear those plushies into shreds, sweetie... just so you know, there’s a price when dealing with a devil, hmm?"

Opening an arcade only to satisfy his girlfriend's wants? You thought in a passing. Crazy.

. . .

And then your emotions are practically a whirlwind of roller coaster...

“You’re mean!” you sniffled, pointing a righteous finger at your husband and the kitty cards on the table. “You always reduce my kitties whenever you get the chance!”

Zayne exhaled, trying to explain himself. “I just make do with the cards I’m dealt with.”

“But you’re trying to take out my cats all the time!”

“That’s the gameplay. If I let you win, you’d say I’m underestimating you.”

“So, are you saying I’m bad at this?” You looked at the cards with heartbreak etched on your face, your lips quivering. “Am I?”

Uh-oh, he knew what it was. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears and one wrong word could set you off altogether.

“No, you’re not bad...” he began, carefully choosing his words. “The kitties... they’re just not cooperating with you, that’s all.”

“So, they’re cooperating with you,” you pouted, cross. “Is that what you’re trying to say?!”

Sigh... this is going to take a while...

But ultimately... you’re also incredibly precious.

“I’m going to make an amigurumi for our baby,” you announced, smiling brightly as you settled between his legs with a crochet kit and a snowman pattern in hand. “I just know they’ll like it.”

“You know how to crochet?” Zayne asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and slipping an arm around your waist, gently touching your growing bump.

“Hmph!” You tilted your chin up with a smirk, turning to face him. “Of course, I can!”

“Oh…?”

“It’s a little side hobby,” you explained with a giggle. “I can’t resist having and making cute things~”

Zayne thought he’d laugh, but instead, it was a wave of bittersweetness that washed over him. Because apparently, even after being married to you for two years, there were some things about you he didn’t know.

He was fond of you. He knew you liked a fair amount of sweets, what your favorite food and color were, and that you couldn't sleep without turning off the lights. But then he realized...

"Does it have to be a snowman?" he asked, his eyes fixed on how skillfully you handled the hooks.

"Mm-hmm! It does."

"Why do you like it so much anyway?"

"Ah..." Your movements paused slightly, and you suddenly looked down, a hint of sheepishness in your expression. "Well..."

This way, you looked adorable somehow. Zayne squeezed you gently. "Hmm?"

"You might not remember it... but the first time we met..." you felt heat creeping up to your face but pressed on nonetheless. "I asked you to demonstrate your Evol and you showed me by creating a snowman out of thin air."

Right at that moment, Zayne could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. That meeting... how many years ago was it? Five? Six?

He could barely remember it until you mentioned it, and yet you held that memory dear.

"Maybe it sounds stupid to you," you puffed out your cheeks. "But I think you’re similar to a snowman. You look cold on the outside, but you bring happiness to so many people. You save lives…"

The way you described him so highly made him flutter inside. Suddenly he felt soft. Soft for you. You were utterly precious, genuine and all this time, he hadn't even truly realized it.

"And to me, you..." you gulped, suddenly self-conscious. "You are... warm, just like the sun..."

The sincerity in your words touched him so deeply that it left him speechless. You had loved him and it was evident in all your actions.

Now the question is, has he done the same for you?

You brightened his life just by being yourself. Most of the time cheery, sometimes snarky, and often times decidedly spoiled... all those sides of you—

He adores them all. And he knows he'll treasure you until the end of time. And now, he's going to show you that.

Before he realized it, he had planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, and you sucked in a breath as you dropped the crochet hooks. "Zayne...?"

And then his lips pressed harder, trailing kisses along your neck, while his hands slipped inside your pajama top, caressing your skin ever so gently. The unexpected touch made you unwittingly moan.

"Can you... finish crocheting another day?" he breathed in your ear, cupping your breasts tenderly, and you almost jolted. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

It felt as if your face had caught fire, your whole body flushing with sudden excitement. Your heart raced wildly at his husky voice, and the very thought that your husband desired you was deeply thrilling.

"But you..." your voice hitched, trying not focus on his fingers. "...are never gentle."

Zayne blinked at you in surprise. "Am... I? That's not true."

"Should I jog your memory?" You pursed your lips. "One time, you threw me on the bed—"

"Well—"

"And that time you had me on all fours—"

"That's—"

"And the night we conceived this baby too—"

"Right. Alright." Zayne’s cheeks flushed with warmth as he released his grip on your mounds. "You might have a point, but this time, I assure you…"

He turned you to face him, and before you could even react, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your collarbone as he whispered:

"I will take good care of you tonight."

He made good on his promise.

This time, his hands moved with a gentleness that took your breath away. Zayne started with peppering your skin in soft, lingering kisses—starting at your jaw, then trailing down your neck, collarbone, and chest.

And when his lips finally reached the slightly visible but firm swell of your belly, he paused, pressing a kiss there that seemed to hold all the love he had for your baby.

The sight pulled at your heartstrings. The very fact that Zayne cherished this little life growing inside you filled you with a happiness so profound, it nearly overwhelmed you.

And soon...

"Ahh... aah!" you writhed, arching your back, your lower body laid bare as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. It was, by far, the most erotic thing your husband had done to you— he usually didn’t spend this much time for your pleasure.

But as always, he was not much of a talker during sex. Only dangerous gleam in his eyes as he glanced up from between your trembling thighs that let you know he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

"Ngh!" You gasped when the tight ball of nerves inside you finally burst, mewling helplessly as you yanked on his hair, and he ate you out even more greedily in response. You had always known it, but moments like this made it undeniable—

Zayne turns completely into a different man while bedding you. Who would have guessed that the stoic, straight-laced head of cardiac surgery could be reduced to a man consumed by lust at the sight of his wife's body?

. . .

He had always liked having you on top. This time, Zayne made sure to prepare you exceptionally well before easing himself inside you, yet, just like every other time, you still felt impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, ah... I-I’m—!” you whimpered tearfully, your walls clenching around his girth, face overtaken by sheer pleasure. “’s full...”

It didn't take him long to bust, really. With a beautiful wife sitting on top of him, eliciting sounds like that... how could he resist?

But maybe he pushed you too hard. Lust won against all his senses as he relentlessly slammed his hips against yours, and he distinctly felt the moment you stifled a scream and came hard around him.

"Are you... alright?" Zayne asked in a groan as he reached his orgasm, his release flooding inside your womb in a rush as you clung into him tightly, shuddering and spasming.

You nodded and collapsed against him, savoring the feeling of how filled up you were. In return, he cradled you close as he slowly pulled out of you. "I-I... am..."

You curled into him, and he pressed a tender kiss on your head. In that moment, you truly felt that there were only two of you in this vast world.

Gently, he lifted you—one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back—and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up.

. . .

“Drink.” Zayne held the cool glass of water to your lips, and you obediently took a sip, your gaze lingering on the gap in his bathrobe where his chest peeked out.

He was so, so considerate. He carefully handled you as he washed your body and wrapped you in the bathrobe earlier, soothing you each time you let out a whine.

It was the most comforting aftercare you had experienced. After making sure you weren’t parched, he tucked you under the comforters, joining you soon after and pulling you close.

“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly, straightening your hair.

“Mm-hmm.” You snuggled closer with a smile, tracing a finger along his chest.

Somehow the way he cared for you now made you remember how your relationship was back then. He didn’t dote on you this much, he was good to you but you knew deep in your hearts that he wasn’t really there. But now…

He is yours. In every sense.

“You’re tickling me,” Zayne tutted gruffly, catching your hand and pressing it to his chest.

“So? What will you do?” you teased with a playful grin. “Will you eat me up again?”

“…” His narrowed eyes made you giggle, and you pressed yourself even closer, relishing the afterglow.

You had promised yourself not to bring it up again, but feeling vulnerable in this moment, you couldn’t help but whisper:

“You… have changed,” you muttered under your breath. “Thank you… for thinking of me.”

You couldn’t see his expression, but his arms tightened around you suddenly. Warmth spread through you, feeling as though he were shielding you from the world itself.

Weeks passed by, and soon enough, you reached the middle of your second trimester.

“We’re going to find out the gender today!” you excitedly noted in the passenger’s seat. Zayne glanced at you with a smile, silently looking forward to it too.

He was relieved that your first trimester had passed smoothly, with only a few bouts of sickness. Now, before he knew it, you were already halfway through the journey.

“If it’s a girl, I hope she won’t be a troublemaker like her mom,” he slyly retorted.

You shot him a glare. “And if it’s a boy, I’ll make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying and turn into a robot like you.”

The journey to fatherhood still didn’t feel entirely real to him with your chirpy self, but as your belly swelled and rounded with each passing week, he began to realize that the day was quickly approaching.

It made him feel warm, and he wished he could show it to you better just how much happiness you brought to him now.

You rummaged through your bag and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot the appointment card!"

Zayne sighed, turning the steering wheel with a small shake of his head. "See? The little mom can be so scatterbrained at times."

You slouched in your seat, crestfallen. "Sorry..."

"It’s alright," he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he noticed your expression drop. "I’ll get it. Where did you leave it?"

"In the first drawer of my vanity desk, I think…"

After arriving back at home, Zayne headed straight to your shared bedroom and searched through your drawers. The first drawer only had your perfumes, so he moved on to the second drawer, which apparently only had more makeup supplies.

And so, he pulled the third drawer, and there were a stack of envelopes there. Curious, he pulled one out, thinking it was the card he was looking for—

—but then, suddenly, he was in a state of shock. Never would have he expected to find what he had on his hand then.

For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, his entire world reduced to those three stark words on the page. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as the realization hit him.

Petition of Divorce — and your signature... was there.

Something seemed a bit off about Zayne, you noticed later that day.

You were really looking forward to finding out the baby's gender, and you thought he was too. He stood by your side all the while, holding your hand as the ultrasound probe pressed against your skin and you waited with bated breath for Dr. Munson to announce—

“Well, it’s a girl!” he declared with a wide grin. “Whoa, Dr. Zayne is going to be a girl dad, huh?”

“Oh my…” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the news. You were fine with either, but you knew Zayne had secretly been hoping for a girl, and you turned to him with pure elation. However...

“That’s… good.” His response was brief, and although he was smiling, something felt off. You had been observing him for too long not to notice—you knew when your husband was distracted.

What is he thinking? Despite yourself, you began to worry.

“Zayne?” you asked later, holding his arm as you both exited Dr. Munson’s office. “Are you thinking about work?”

He turned to you almost immediately. “No.”

“Then why are you frowning?” you asked innocently, trying to lighten the mood by touching his face. He swiftly caught your hand.

“This is a public place,” he said in a strained voice, causing you to stiffen at his tone. “I’ll take you home first.”

Something was not right. Now you were convinced and it started to bother you.

“Actually… I need to go to the Hunter Association's base first to finish my deskwork,” you said.

His brows furrowed even deeper. “Can’t you just submit your leave?”

“Ah... I’m on half-day leave today. I need to wrap up as much as I can before I go on maternity leave later.”

“Next time,” he snapped, his gray eyes locked on you, “Whenever you have appointments, take a full-day leave. You’re in no condition to be working, especially as you get further along.”

"Zayne, are you... upset with me?" you fired the question then, because it seemed like he really did, and suddenly you felt a bit sick at the very thought.

He was certainly not expecting you to ask that, and for a moment, Zayne froze, before he exhaled and his frown softened a bit.

“…no,” he finally said, his tone gentler. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

But ever since that day, you knew something had happened to him that he suddenly he became a little distant towards you.

. . .

Zayne hadn’t meant to snap at you. If anything, knowing you were carrying a baby girl filled him with unbridled happiness.

But still, there was still a part of him that wanted to demand answers from you—that part of him that was deeply hurt by what he discovered.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t take it too hard. No matter how much he reflected on it, he knew he hadn’t been the husband you deserved. He knew his faults and understood how much he had hurt you. From the very beginning, you deserved someone who would see only you and no one else—and he hadn't been that person before.

Even with that understanding, he was left with an unresolved hollowness. You had doubted him enough that you were ready to file for a divorce once. It didn't mean that the same thing wouldn't happen in the future.

Does he have it in him to make you happy? He had promised you he would. While he wasn't the most affectionate, he tried his best, and he intended to keep trying.

But now, after learning this, he found that not only you, but even he too was able to doubt himself.

"Zayne...?"

You peeked your head inside his study one night, several weeks later, a hand resting on your bump. You really didn't want to bother him when he just arrived, but you figured you had to tell him.

For the past week, you’d been throwing up, and it didn’t feel right. He had been at a symposium in another city since the start of the week, and you tried to wait it out. But today, you almost blacked out, and now you were genuinely afraid.

"Y/N?" he turned to you just as he laid his briefcase and the moment he saw you, he frowned at how pale you looked.

Zayne immediately stalked towards you and pulled you closer, feeling your neck to check your body temperature. His eyes widened in realization. "You have a fever."

"I-I... feel lightheaded today," you sputtered, clutching his arm. "And... I’ve been vomiting too..."

"I'll get you checked in at Akso," he decided, grabbing the car keys and led you out of the room by the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me in your calls?"

Very lame excuse, but you tried to defend yourself nonetheless. "It wasn't this severe before—"

"You should have told me." His response was curt, but his fury was evident. You almost shrank at his tone, but Zayne didn't reprimand you further as he helped you into the passenger seat.

The drive was tense and uncomfortable, making you feel even worse. The silence only amplified your anxiety, and it didn't help that you had noticed how distant he was lately.

"I'm sorry—" you blurted but then suddenly, you sucked in a breath, wincing and fisting your dress when you felt the start of a cramp just below your ribs. "Ahh..."

Zayne’s panic surged at your pained gasp. He gripped your hand reassuringly, all trace of anger vanishing instantly. "We’ll arrive soon. I promise you’ll be alright."

At that moment, despite all fears you had—for your baby, of his sudden shift of behavior—you held back your sob and squeezed his hand in return.

. . .

You would be staying at the hospital until all the test results came in.

Zayne sat on the chair beside you, gaze fixed on you as you lay connected to an IV drip in the private room. Though he tried to mask it, he was still shaken. He knew better than anyone that fever and cramps at more than 20 weeks often signaled something was wrong with either the mother or the baby.

The thought of ailments beyond his control affecting either of you made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie and let out a sigh, trying to ease the constriction. "How do you feel now?"

You looked at him, managing a smile as you replied, "I’m fine now."

Seeing you bedridden like this was something he hadn’t realized he dreaded until that moment, and yet, there you were, smiling. You... smiled.

He couldn’t understand why the sight he usually adored suddenly stirred this swirling anger in him.

Your answer seemed to hit a nerve in him as his expression darkened, and anxiety struck you again, twisting something in your gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."

His lack of response only deepened your unease. "Before today, I didn’t feel faint at all, so I think it’s just something I ate."

He still didn't deign you with any answer. Zayne’s apparent disregard for your words frustrated you, bringing you close to tears. "Say something..." you urged, feeling the tears burn behind your eyes. "I know you're upset, but now I'm scared too."

You really wanted him to comfort you. You knew the Zayne from several weeks ago would do just that, but now you had a feeling that the man before you now wasn't that same man any longer.

"We’ll see when the results are ready," he said then, facing you with a stoic, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were delivering a diagnosis to a patient rather than speaking to his wife. "Don’t fret too much. Have some rest."

Is that... all he has to say to you? A part of your heart withered at his detached response, the tears frozen in your eyes. What happened to him?

You were about to confront him for an answer when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

"Hello? Yes, it's Zayne. Who is this?" he questioned flatly, eyes narrowed into a dissatisfied frown, before suddenly his expression lit up with understanding when the person on the other line introduced themselves.

You could hear the faint sound of a man's voice from his phone. And when Zayne addressed him, a sudden chill spread throughout your body.

"Caleb? It's... been a while."

You felt cold. Caleb. You never really knew him but you had certainly seen him. Once at a funeral, and once at your wedding. He too is Zayne's childhood friend, and more than that, he is the brother of—

Why? Why did all emotional suffering you had to go through, somehow or another, always come down to a dead woman who was once your husband's lover?

When he ended this call, you didn't even pretend to be considerate anymore. "What does he want from you?"

Zayne looked taken aback by your sudden hostility but answered calmly, "He’s in Linkon now and asked if we could meet."

"Must you really see him?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I don’t like it," you spat, venom clear in your voice, turning to him. "I don’t like it at all when you have to be involved with people related to her!"

Finally, you said it. You had never made it clear before, but this time, you felt like you were entitled enough to. You were having his daughter, and if he was still entangled in an illusion of his past girlfriend with you, then—

Zayne responded to your outburst with a suppressed sigh, visibly keeping his frustration in check. "He is an old friend, Y/N. You're too emotional right now that you jump into conclusions and stress yourself out."

He was right, your emotions were spiraling, but right now you were too heartbroken to care for it.

"Do you know what I fear the most?" you asked, tears shining in your eyes. At last, you voiced the dark, unspoken curse that had haunted you since the very beginning of it all:

"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."

Zayne barely got any rest that night.

In the end, faced with your tears, he didn't respond because he didn't want to prolong the argument. More strain for you could put both you and the baby at risk.

Later, he told himself. No matter how much he berated himself for not noticing the signs of your illness sooner, or wanted show you that you and his unborn child meant everything to him now— later. He wouldn't risk you, and it would be better if you talk later with cooler heads.

Little did he know, that "later" would never come.

Numerous missed phone calls from the nurses station after he stepped out of the operating room sealed your fate. And when Greyson burst into his office, out of breath and panic-stricken, it was like being doused in scalding water.

"Dr. Zayne! Miss Y/N! Sh-she has just been rushed to ER for severe bleeding!"

Just like that, his world crashed and shattered beyond return.

. . .

"Dr. Zayne, I'm not sure how I should break this news to you... As a medical professional, you already know how serious this condition is..."

Everything was his greatest nightmare realized. Dr. Munson’s diagnosis struck him with a searing force, paralyzing him on the spot.

"Your wife has preeclampsia."

The nurses said you had been screaming and bleeding heavily. He too had seen it himself—the blood splattered across the pristine floor when he arrived, just moments after you were rushed to the emergency room—and the sight made a chill run through his spine in horror.

"She just experienced a partial placental abruption because of it. This causes bleeding in the mother, and also increases the risk of premature labor."

Dr. Munson’s explanation was crystal clear, yet it sent Zayne into a daze. It felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving him hollow as he stared numbly at your figure, peacefully asleep after the emergency treatment you had been put through.

Zayne clasped your hand in his, feeling the invincible knife lodged in his heart twist painfully.

You aren't supposed to be this cold. He gently griped your hand, his face contorted with agony. How terrified must you have been? How much did it hurt? Despite trying to push the memories away, seeing you like this brought back the nightmare from three years ago.

Only that this time, it was you. And not just you, but his unborn child as well. Both of you... there was a chance that both of you wouldn't survive.

The sheer thought made him stagger, because no, if it was the devil’s way to punish him, then it was beyond cruel. He had failed you once already, and he knew what happiness was by being with you, and to lose all of that in one blow—

"Zayne! Can you make me one more snowman?" you pleaded, your eyes sparkling as you pointed to the little gap between snowmen already perched on the window. "Just one more! It’ll make the line perfect!"

"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."

It was so, so painful. His chest constricted at the contrasting memories and it took everything he had not to give in to his spiraling fears.

With everything I have, I love you. None of it mattered anymore. The divorce papers, whether he could make you happy— what was important was that It was unthinkable to lose you now. He would trade his life if it meant sparing you, because the pain of losing you would destroy him.

You had always loved that little thing he made on a whim. He opened your palm and shaped the ice through his manipulation, placing the palm-sized snowman in your grasp, hoping it would protect you throughout the night.

You remembered the excruciating pain, the primal dread of losing your baby, and the horrifying sight of crimson streaming endlessly between your legs, also how you screamed for anyone for help.

When you regained consciousness, the scent of fresh linen and alcohol was the first thing that greeted you. Dawn had already arrived, but the sky outside remained dark.

Your right palm felt cold, and that’s when you realized you were holding something. At the same time, you noticed the weight in your other hand—

Zayne. Your husband slept on the edge of your bed in such an uncomfortable position while holding your hand, his brows taut into a frown, only with a coat to cover himself.

He is here. You quietly watched him, and despite everything, you realized once again how much you loved him—even more that he was here for you.

Snowman… you stared at the little toy in your other hand, and overwhelming warmth washed over you at the thought of him creating it for you just before he slept.

The baby… what did you go through? Is she fine? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that something grave had happened to you.

You had to know. You pulled your left hand out of his grasp and caressed his face. He has to shave soon, you noted, feeling the stubble that had started to grow there. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was.

Your gentle touch soon caused his eyes to flutter open, and Zayne jerked awake, instinctively catching your hand. "You're awake..." he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.

He looked at you as if he was in disbelief, and immediately rose and squeezed your hand. You looked up to him, feebly asking, "What... happened to me?"

His face fell right that moment but you pressed on, "Tell me. I have to know..."

Zayne's reluctance was obvious, but the plea in your voice made him waver. Finally, he sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed.

"The test results have come back," he began, his voice adopting the clinical tone you recognized from when he spoke to his patients. "Your blood pressure is abnormally high, and there was protein found in your urine sample... These are signs of a condition called preeclampsia."

Shock marred your features in that moment, because you had heard what it was and what it meant for your baby.

"The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery. And at the same time the placenta has detached from the wall of your womb. This way, our baby—"

You had watched Zayne deliver devastating diagnoses to his patients before, and he was always steadfast. But this time, even his voice wavered.

His gray eyes seemed to glisten under the light as they held your gaze. "She's being deprived of oxygen and nutrients because the placenta can no longer supply them. You may also experience heavier bleeding, more cramps, and fetal distress. The best course of action now is to deliver the baby as soon as possible."

It felt like receiving death sentence. No matter how you looked at it, the conclusion was the same. "B-but..." you stammered, your whole body trembling, shaken by the enormity of it all. "S-she's just... barely twenty-six weeks..."

The way devastation bled in your voice pierced him. Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out a long, drawn-out breath as he held you close.

"I'm here," he assured, trying to console you. "You don't have to be scared. We'll monitor you closely until it's possible for you to give birth to the baby in around thirty weeks. I'll make sure of that."

The first of your sobs began. "...i-is it me?" you clutched at his coat mournfully. "Did I… p-put the baby into distress somehow— that it causes the placenta to fall away?"

"No," he firmly shushed you. "It's a condition that can flare up anytime. Don't blame yourself for it."

Still, how could you not? More than yourself, you feared for your unborn child. You sobbed harder, and Zayne held you even as his coat had started to dampen from your tears.

Your predicament broke his heart too, but at the same time, he found the perfect moment to finally show you the entirety of his heart.

"You told me you were afraid I'd come to see both of you as a mistake," he murmured, gently running his hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "But how can our daughter be a mistake when—" his voice caught, choking on the words, "—when I've loved her so much already?"

The strain in his voice made you look up, and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gray eyes that bored into you.

“Both of you... are so precious to me.” Zayne locked his eyes with yours, sincerely meaning everything he said as he cradled the side of your face. “The thought that anything might happen to either of you... is unbearable.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice hoarse, “What if… you continue to bleed and it leads to seizures? What if— you and the baby won’t make it? These are so unbearable for me.”

His words went straight into you, and for a moment, your tears receded as they sank in.

"I can’t give you my past." His voice tinged with melancholy, the expression on his face was torn. "But I promise you, at least in this lifetime..."

He gazed at you with the unwavering look you had fallen in love with, the same gaze you once admired from afar, long ago.

And then, his next declaration took your breath away and made your heart soar like never before. A wave of love surged within you, almost overwhelming you—

"Right this moment and my future—it's for you. For both of you, always."

From that moment on, you knew you would trust him completely. From that moment on, you finally let go of your doubts, knowing that you had nothing to fear with him by your side.

Zayne was by your side whenever he was able to.

You were on bedrest at the hospital ever since, but he always stayed the night here to accompany you, barely going back to home for a change of clothes.

"You’re really making a snowman..." he remarked, observing your fingers and the crochet hooks he’d brought from home so you could keep yourself entertained. "I think you need to add a bit more fluff there..."

Your face brightened with a grin as you cut the yarn. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra round."

The weeks in the hospital dragged on, but they also gave you more time to work on your amigurumi. When you finished putting the final touches on it, you proudly presented it to Zayne—the snowman with a blue shawl and black hat, two little round eyes, and a beaming line of smile. "Ta-da! Look, it’s even cuter than the ones you made!"

A happy you was always the sight he loved to see above all. "Yeah..."

"Do you think she'll love it?" you suddenly asked, poking the snowman doll you just made, feeling warm at the thought that your cherished baby will soon play with it too.

You looked so endearing that Zayne felt an overwhelming urge to pull you closer. “She will,” he chuckled, giving you a reassuring pat on the head. “Didn’t you say before she will?”

And soon, you reached the thirtieth-week mark. The time had come to finally deliver your baby.

. . .

"I can't feel anything..." Your voice came out as a soft whine while you lay on the operating table, your lower body numb and obscured by the surgical curtain shielding you from view.

Zayne, standing beside you in a mask and headcap, grasped your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. "If you could feel it, you’d be screaming."

The C-section was the only way to ensure both you and your daughter would survive. It felt surreal to know they were basically cutting you open, yet you were unable to feel anything.

"Will... she come out healthy?" you asked your husband hesitantly, worried about your soon-to-be born baby. "I'm worried..."

Zayne glanced at you and gave your hand a light squeeze. "Don’t worry too much. You should be more concerned about yourself. Think of all the food you want to have when you get home, and I’ll get it for you."

You shot him a glare. "You make me sound like a foodie."

"You are a foodie."

Despite the ongoing surgery, Zayne’s lighthearted jabs were his way of easing your anxiety. Even though they irked you, you appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits.

And soon—

You heard a feeble cry, though quickly drowned out by the cheers of the surgical team beyond the curtain. You gasped and turned to Zayne, who was fixated on the tiny baby in Dr. Munson's hands.

He didn't even blink. It was almost as if he was spellbound by the sight. Nothing mattered because his daughter was here. Really here.

"Zayne…" your voice then broke the spell. He turned to you, who weakly smiled at him with tears in your eyes.

For the first time in your life, you saw tears of happiness glistening in his eyes as he stared at you— the woman who had just given him a daughter to love and dote on.

He immediately leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. Your heart felt so full, even though he wasn’t able to fully express it in words. In that moment, you could feel his profound love for you and the new life you would embark on together.

"She is so small..."

You pressed yourself as close as you could to the see-through glass of the neonatal unit, straining to get a glimpse of your baby daughter. Though you weren't well enough to walk three days after the surgery, you insisted on Zayne wheeling you over in a wheelchair just so you could have a peek.

"She’ll grow big soon," Zayne said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he noticed your sadness. "She’ll stay there for a few more weeks, and then we can bring her home."

However, your expression twisted into a worried frown as you watched the gentle rise and fall of your baby’s tiny chest inside the incubator. Even when he had reassured you that it was by all means just an unfortunate condition, you couldn't help feeling that it was your fault somehow that she ended up there.

She had his tufts of black hair, but you weren’t able to get close enough to remember her face clearly. The fact that you hadn’t held her in your arms yet made your heart ache.

"Mommy is sorry that she can't carry you to full-term..." you croaked out, lips wobbling, a hand tracing the glass separating you from your new baby, and Zayne inhaled sharply at the sight.

It hadn’t been easy, but you had made it through. Both of you had. And to him, that was more than enough. So, you needed to hear it too.

He crouched down in front of you, catching your attention instantly. You tilted your head as his hands rested gently on your shoulders.

“Thank you for delivering our daughter safely,” he said with the softest of smiles, ever so genuine just as you were in all times of the two of you together.

Your eyes widened a bit at his sudden gratitude, and when he took both of your hands together in his, gazed at you with such earnestness in his clear ash-grey eyes, and traced his thumbs over your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.

“And most of all, thank you... for being safe too.”

Those words brought immense warmth to you, and the prettiest of smile lit up your face then at the way he looked at you as if you were his most prized treasure. Just like that, once again, he cast all your fears and doubts aside.

And deep down, you knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.

taglist

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[sloaneispunk]

“master manipulator”

dark!inho x you

in-ho had a special way of getting to gi-hun. with the help someone as broken as him, he knew he could get under the skin of him. in-ho was a master manipulator.

⟢ ──── ●▲■ ──── ⟢

when in-ho first joined the game, he already had his eyes set on you, not because he wanted you romantically or as a friend. it was because he knew exactly how he was going to use you to get to gi-hun.

in the first round of voting, before he befriended the team, he spotted you in the crowd.

bingo!

“what’s a young girl like you doing in a game like this?” he would say. the way the heart was flattery, he knew that.

you didn’t take it well at first, often ignoring him or giving him short replies. but after many tries and his admirable resilience, you opened up.

as he got to know you whilst during the voting, he had somehow gotten to you. to him, it was the easiest thing ever.

“you know, you could clear your debt if you just played one more game.” he whispered in your ear before it was your turn to vote.

and luckily for him, you were player 002. it may or may not have been purely a coincidence but he enjoyed every second of it anyways.

in-ho made sure that when you walked up to the panel, you would have your mind straight on what he had told you to do.

and so you did.

team ‘o’.

when he casted in the last vote, he watched as the ‘o’s had easily overruled the ‘x’s.

when he was proud of you, his little plaything, he would brush up against you, throwing his arm over you protectively.

eventually, he brought you along when he joined gi-hun’s team. for some odd reason he felt that he couldn’t just abandon you like that after you had helped him.

throughout the next few games, in-ho protected you like you were his. during the ‘six legged pentathlon’ he ensured that you had a place in the team. when playing ‘mingle’, he would take your hand as he dragged you everywhere he went.

yea, he was using you for his own use but something in him made him feel awful about it.

it was rare for in-ho to feel that way, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so protective of someone.

but of course, all good things must come to an end.

when the third game ended, you were approached by jung-bae and gi-hun.

“hey, are you okay?” jung-bad asked as he looked you up and down seeming as if he was checking for bruises or scratches.

“y/n… jung-bae told me something concerning happened during ‘mingle’. i have to ask you something and you need to answer me honestly.” gi-hun added.

“what is it?” you would reply, fingers nervously playing behind your back.

“is young-il making you do this? anything?”

you frowned at them. how dare they?

“what?! why do you assume that?! he has done nothing wrong, i-”

“is there a problem?” in-ho stepped in, gently pushing you behind him.

“we just felt something was off with y/n, we were asking-”

“y/n is okay.” in-ho would cut them off. “y/n, sweetheart, you’re okay right?” he turned to look at you.

as you stared into his eyes you couldn’t stand the thought of not obliging to whatever he said. he felt safe, warm, just like home.

you sheepishly nodded.

“see?” in-ho tried his best to refrain himself from throwing a punch at gi-hun for the spot he put you in. “why don’t you go lie down, my dear? you must be exhausted from the game.” he told you adoringly, cupping your face as you nodded.

it was that easy.

but then, in-ho knew, his feelings were getting in the way. he was risking whatever plan he had for gi-hun because of these torturous feelings for you.

when the rebellion formed, he was torn between keeping you safe or taking you with him. but he figured a naive, young girl like you couldn’t be left in that hellhole alone without him. ‘who was going to protect you?’ he thought.

however, as the team got closer and closer to the control room, he knew his cover was going to be blown.

he hid behind the stairwell with you and a fellow player. contemplating if he should handle it himself or get you involved.

eventually, he made up his mind.

“y/n, honey, shoot him please.” he told you in that same sweet tone.

“w-what?”

“you know i’ll keep you safe, he’s going to get in the way. you have to.”

just as simple as that, the player was shot down by you, laying in a pool of his own blood because of your betrayal.

“oh, attagirl.” he would praise, sending shivers down your spine.

even with a sight so gruesome as that, he could make you feel like the luckiest and happiest person alive with his praises.

without a question, you had followed him back to his headquarters, in-ho keeping you hand in his every step of the way.

“now, i need you to take this…” he told you, kneeling down, giving you a walkie talkie as you sat on his bed. “… watch the cameras and as soon as someone gets near this door i need you to tell me, okay?”

“but what’s going on?” you asked wanting an explanation for all the chaos, the wreckage.

“i’ll explain everything to you when i get back.” he brushed it off.

“don’t leave me here alone please.”

in-ho felt his heart break. your voice was so soft and gentle.

he brushed the hair away from your face and wiped your tears.

“it’ll only take a while, i’ll be back as soon as i can.”

and with one last kiss to your forehead, he was off.

he had a new addition to his team.

[cheekytv]

have you ever tried... this one? - g. a. clarke & c. m. dixon going to paris with your boyfriend was supposed to be a romantic getaway. but when chris gets dumped, george can't help but ask his best mate to join in. how great of chris that he offers you sabrina carpenter tickets as compensation.... and somehow becomes involved in after concert activites...

pairing: george x f!reader x chris genre: smut MDNI!!! warnings: threesome, eifeltower, creampie, cum swallowing, fingering, oral (m. receiving), loads of kissing, let me know if i missed anything wc: 3.6k a/n: this is obviously inspired by sabrina's second paris concert... i wanna thank my friend val for giving me this idea!!! i love u queen!! also this isn't fully proof read because i worked on this for days and just wanted to post something for yall! requests are still open by the way and i will publish an arthurtv one next week <3 also, if you read to the end you may suggest who in the friendgroup should be next!

Oh Paris, the city of love. The city you love. Growing up in sad grey England, Paris has been your favorite place to be since you were a child. 

And this week, you finally got to show it to your boyfriend, George. You have been dating for a good year now, but his busy schedule has never really allowed any trips to Paris - until now. The minute he had confirmed the dates with you, you had booked everything, ready to make George fall in love with Paris the same way you had made him fall in love with him. 

Just that, a few days before the trip, Chris, George’s best friend, got dumped by his new girlfriend rather harshly and George, the nice guy he is, promptly suggested he’d join you on this trip. Chris, obviously feeling bad, but also not wanting to miss out on a nice week in Paris, tried to win you over by scoring three Sarbina Carpenter tickets and giving them to you as a thank you. Safe to say - he did win you over. 

So, Paris was now a three-person trip and Chris somehow became a third wheel who didn’t necessarily feel like a third wheel. Every shop you went to, he gave George and you space, very good at entertaining himself (he was a grown man, sure, but it still did surprise you) and joining the two of you at the right moments. Even with him there the trip felt romantic and considering he had a separate hotel room, George and you still had the nights all to yourself. 

The night of the Sabrina concert finally came and when you entered the arena and went to the seats Chris had gotten the three of you, you smirked, thinking about what you had promised George at breakfast this morning. 

“Oh, just a heads up,” you started, leaning over so your lips were right by George’s ear, “the position she chooses tonight, we’ll also choose tonight.” George’s face lit up, his cheeks turning slightly pink. 

“You always have such wonderful ideas, darling.” He grinned then, watching you sit back down and chuckle, eyes glancing over to Chris who was just about to reach your table.

The plan would have been fine, would have been dandy, would have been the perfect thing to look forward to after the concert - if only Sabrina hadn’t chosen this night in Paris to debut a position involving dancers. Plural. Two dancers. 

George, sitting next to you and Chris, felt his mouth drop open at the display. Next to him, he felt Chris tense slightly - he had told his best friend about your suggestion during a walk earlier and Chris had happily anticipated this moment with his friend, being supportive as always. But this? George shifted on his feet, the arena obviously filled with shouts and screams and people singing the lyrics to Juno and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. 

Honestly, he didn’t even understand why this had such an impact on him. Why it was suddenly so hard to look at you and why he found himself thinking thoughts he hadn’t thought of seriously before. Little did he know that you were going through the exact same scenarios as him. 

Could this really just be a coincidence? There were two Paris concerts, yesterday, she had done the whole thing with smoking a cigarette after sex and today, the show Chris had gotten tickets for unexpectedly, she did the bloody Eifeltower? It felt a bit too targeted. 

And if you were honest with yourself… Chris wasn’t unattractive, more so the opposite. Even being shorter than George, you were still smaller than him, so it didn’t really make a difference to you anyway. He was handsome and funny, kind and lean, with muscles in the right places - not to mention his insane talent at football. So, yeah, perhaps the thought had crossed your mind once or twice. You were just a girl after all. A girl with eyes and your boyfriend just so happened to have a friend group filled with attractive men. 

Slowly, you managed to get back to the here and now, your focus back on Sabrina on the stage, the thoughts of what the position choice would mean for later tonight vanishing from your mind for the time being. 

–

The drive back to the hotel was… just slightly awkward. You managed to keep up the conversation, talking about how great Sabrina was live and how spectacular her show was. Sure, the elephant in the room was right there and both George and Chris had sweaty hands (even though Chris didn’t even know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he and George had ever discussed anything like this… at least not seriously) not able to look at each other throughout the whole drive. 

By the time you walked up the stairs to the hotel, your words had dried up. Instead they made room for slight anxiety and insecurity. Walking to the elevator in silence, you were happy to see no one else was in it with you. 

“Okay, we gotta address it.” You shit out the second the elevator doors closed. George and Chris exchanged a quick look before letting their eyes fall onto you. 

“Darling,-“ George started, but you interrupted him.

“No, listen. Obviously, I didn't know she’d do… that position today.” You crossed your arms and tried to ignore your burning cheeks. “We don’t- this doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just- it’s not like I haven’t thought about it- I-“,

“You thought about it?” George raised his brows and was surprised by the lack of jealousy arising within him. Instead, he felt a strange sense of arousal cursing through him. The joke about him and you having a possible threeway with any of his friends had come up plenty of times - even in videos, but he had never considered them an actual possibility. Sure, the thought had… somehow got him excited, but he hadn’t even dared to bring it up with you, too scared of a negative reaction. And now you were revealing that you had in fact thought about it?

Chris, next to George, felt his eyes widen and his heart speeding up, his palms growing sweatier. You had thought about this? About him and George… his cheeks heated up and he let his gaze wander between you and your boyfriend, not allowing himself into the conversation just yet. 

George’s question had caught you off guard, mainly because you hadn’t even realised your own slip-up. A pit in your stomach opened up and your brain worked hard to come up with a clever answer, but unfortunately came up empty.

“I-”, you began, feeling sweat forming on your forehead, “I mean, I don’t- I didn’t-,”

“Because I have, too.” George interrupted you again, his hand finding yours, pulling you closer, “in fact, we have… talked about this before.” He looked over at Chris, who still stared at the two of you like a semi-lost puppy. 

Now this you hadn’t expected. Behind you, the doors pinged, signaling you reaching your floor. The three of you kept standing inside the elevator in anticipating silence for another moment. Even with no words being exchanged there seemed to be an understanding hanging between you. Swallowing, you finally turned to move out of the elevator, the two men following you. George was still holding your hand, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

Reaching the hotel room, George let go of your hand and got out his wallet, the keylock for the room beeping a few seconds later. There were still no words exchanged, only your breathing audible in the silence as George opened the door and Chris and you followed him inside. Neither of you knew how this was going to go. How you were going to even start this. A threesome had never been on your bucket list, at least not officially. And it certainly hadn’t been on your bucket list for this trip. 

The heavy hotel room door fell shut behind you and all of you slowly discarded your jackets and shoes, making your way further into the room. The atmosphere changed as soon as the bed came into view, the king size suddenly looking way too small for the two people who had shared it the last three nights. Your heart was pumping and your blood was rushing in your ears, your eyes finally finding Georges.

“Should we sit?” He asked then, pointing to the bed and you and Chris nodded, walking over and sinking down onto the mattress. 

You were in between them now. Both your thighs touching theirs, all of your pulses quickened and all senses heightened. 

“So, just to clarify,” Chris now said, rubbing his sweaty palms along his jeans as if to dry them, “we are all cool with this?” 

George and you nodded, heads turned to the blonde man. 

“Are you cool with it?” You carefully asked him, gaze set on his handsome features. 

Now, it was Chris who nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool with this.” Even with his cheeks all rosy, he sounded determined. George on your other side, felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. God, he was really about to share the girl he loved with his best friend, how utterly strange and appealing at the same time. 

“Well then…,” you licked over your lips nervously, your gaze falling from Chris’ eyes to his lips. Adrenaline shot through you when you felt Chris leaning in, his breath hot on your face when he finally closed the gap between you two. 

He tasted and felt different than George, his lips a little bit softer than your boyfriends. Chris was cautious at first, but when you moved your head and switched up the angle, he dared to let his tongue run over your bottom lip, his hand finding its way onto your cheek. You gladly accepted his tongue sliding into your mouth, your own meeting and letting him take the lead. The kiss deepened and you leaned in closer to Chris, your head feeling dizzy. 

George watched, his mouth slightly dropped. Nothing could have prepared him for the way he felt watching you with someone else. A part of him felt guilty for not being jealous, for not wanting you all to himself. But that all faded away when he heard your soft gasp when Chris bit down on your bottom lip, when he felt the heat radiating off your body. He leaned forward, his hands pushing your hair over your shoulder, leaving your neck bare for him to gently caress and finally kiss. 

Feeling both of them kissing you caused another moan against Chris’ lips, your own hands now moving to both of their napes, fingers curling into their hair. Electricity sparked with every touch, every kiss, every breath. Turning your face, you now kissed George on the lips, giving Chris the chance to devour your neck with his lips, sucking and kissing your soft skin. 

Every kiss with George somehow felt like the first one, filling your stomach with butterflies and happiness. All that slowly faded into heat now, blatant heat that needed to be set free, that demanded to be heard and taken care of. You gasped into his mouth when he let his hands wander underneath your shirt, both men shortly parting from you so he could pull it over your head and throw it onto the floor. They dove right back into kissing you, George’s hands now exploring your freed skin, fingers tracing the cups of your bra and finally moving to the clasp on your back, letting it clip open. Chris moved to kiss your shoulders, his hands sneaking around your waist and finding your button and zipper, opening both so his hand could glide into your jeans. Your legs moved to open wider almost automatically, more moans leaving your body when you felt Chris’ fingers on your drenched core. 

“Fucking hell.” Chris groaned, his fingers circling your clit over your panties. “You’re so wet already, darling.”

“God, Chris, I don’t think your ready for her perfect pussy,” George smirked as he kissed down your neck, your bra now discarded next to your shirt on the floor. His lips closed around your right nipple and your head tilted back, right onto Chris’ shoulder. Chris, who now moved to get the rest of your clothes off. 

“Unfair.” It truly was - both men were still fully dressed while you were about to be fully naked. They both chuckled, exchanging a quick glance before getting rid of their shirts. Your eyes feasted on the bare torsos of your two lovers for the night. Biting down on your bottom lip, you moved to look at Chris, your one hand running over his abs, while the other found George’s nape. 

You dove back into it then. Chris’ lips on yours in a hot and passionate kiss, while George was kissing your neck and back. With every passing second you grew needier, your pussy throbbing even with Chris back inside your panties with his fingers, circling your clit with expertise. The soft sounds coming out of your mouth drove both of them crazy, their cocks straining against their trousers. 

Quickly, they moved to get naked as well, the three of you getting cozier in the middle of the bed, your body pressed between theirs. Spreading your legs, you hooked one each around theirs, letting both men take their turns to kiss your neck and lips, George’s long fingers inside of you, pumping you open for one of their cocks, while Chris’ thumb was back on your clit, pressing down as he moved it in perfect circles. The sensation made your heart race and your body tingle, every touch better than the last. There wasn’t anything that could make you stop right now, not even the end of the world. If this was how you died - so be it. 

“Who do you want where, darling?” George finally whispered into your ear, his middle and forefinger still thrusting into you, hitting you right where you needed it most. Words were hard to form with both men on you, but you somehow managed to whimper that you really wanted to suck Chris’ cock first. 

Chris felt himself twitch against your thigh, groaning into your neck.

“Fuck, yeah, let’s do that.”

You found yourself on your hands and knees seconds later, Chris kneeling in front, George behind you. Chris' hand was caressing your face, his pupils blown as he stared down at you with nothing but admiration and hunger in his eyes. He brushed his thumb against your lips.

“Suck, darling.” He commanded in a whisper and you obliged immediately, your lips parting to suck his thumb into your mouth. His breath hitched, feeling your tongue twirl around his digit. 

“What a good, good girl.” He mumbled and George, currently feeling up your ass and enjoying the view of your glistening folds, smirked proudly.

“Yeah, she’s always so fucking good. Likes to be told what to do, too.” He squeezed your right cheek, before getting his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times. “Are you ready for me, my love?” He asked then and you nodded, whimpering around Chris’ thumb.

George moved right away. His tip breached your sensitive hole and your eyes rolled back when he began to sink into you, every inch of him feeling nothing short of delicious. George’s cock was girthy and by now you would have expected to be used to how he stretched you, but no, it was a perfect new experience every time. Chris wasn’t as wide as George, but slightly longer, his angry red tip staring at you, taunting you with the sticky pre cum about to drop onto the duvet. Looking up at Chris with big eyes now, trying to signal him that his thumb was not enough anymore.

And even though this was the first time Chris and you were intimate like this, he seemed to get it right away. His eyes met yours and sparkled with more hunger than before, his thumb leaving your mouth and instead bringing his hand around his cock, leading it to your awaiting mouth. Breathing heavily, his tip bumped against your outstretched tongue, the softness making him moan. You hungrily licked away his pre-cum, revelling in his taste.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” Chris groaned, his cock now sliding inside your mouth. Every inch that got engulfed by your warmth already brought him closer to the edge, his eyes rolling back when his tip reached the back of your throat. 

Just then, George finally bottomed out, his throbbing cock feeling right at home in your tight walls. His hands gripped your waist, grounding himself in the familiarity of your body. His first thrust was firm and controlled and caused you to almost fall forward, Chris’ cock gliding even deeper down your throat. He gasped audibly, his hands moving to your head, fingers grabbing your hair. Hollowing out your cheeks, you moved your head up and down his shaft, tongue pressing against his undersite and gliding over his tip whenever you moved back. 

With every thrust, George felt himself nearing his climax, his fingers digging into your skin. There were little things George enjoyed more than being with you. To him, you were perfect, everything about you was perfect. The way you arched your back when he tasted you, the way you squeezed his cock just like right now, hinting at your own climax being close. He loved the way you listened to his every word, how you aimed to please and be pleased, how you kissed him every chance you got. And this, right now, you almost choking on his best friend’s cock, being so goddamn good for them… a part of him was worried about missing this, about missing you with a cock in your mouth while he fucked you, about wishing he could hear your gagged moans, about almost losing his mind over the way you pulsated around him, so turned on by Chris inside your throat. 

“You’re doing so well, darling, I am so proud of you.” He purred, his hands gently caressing your backside. 

“Yeah, Georgey is right, pet, you’re really doing so fucking well.” Chris licked his lips, watching your eyes sparkle with tears. “Can I fuck your mouth?” He asked then, breathlessly and you nodded immediately. Relieved, Chris looked over at George who gave him an encouraging grin. That was all he needed. Both of your consent. 

The two men didn’t hold back then. In almost perfect unison they began to thrust, one cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly, while the other went so deep down your throat you thought to see stars. Never had you felt so full before, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, muffled moans around Chris’ cock sending vibrations through the blonde man. He groaned, fingers digging into your scalp as he lost himself completely in his pleasure. 

George knew it wasn’t going to take long anymore, his cock beginning to twitch over and over inside you, feeling your soft walls tightening around him.

“Are you gonna come for us, darling? Gonna come all prettily on my cock?” His hips picked up the pace and you felt tears streaming down your cheeks, the pleasure almost too much to handle. And when George sneaked a hand between your legs and let his thumb press down harshly on your clit - there was no stopping it. Your orgasm hit you like a hard wave, your body shaking while your moans got drowned out by the sound of skin on skin, wet and perfect and filthy. Chris was thriving on the way your throat vibrated around him, closing in on his orgasm. 

“Good girl, so fucking good.” Every wave of your orgasm brought George closer to his own and when he finished fucking you through your high, he finally reached his. Gripping onto your hips for dear life, he moaned your name once, twice and emptied inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white, leaving you hot and satisfied. 

“Fuuuck, you’re perfect.” Chris watched your eyes rolling back forward and when he saw the longing look in them, he couldn’t help but fall over the edge, cursing under his breath while his own load shot down your throat, your lips sucking hungrily, not wanting to waste even one drop of him. You milked him of all he had and only when he pulled out and fell backwards, did you swallow it all, falling on top of him with George landing on your back. 

The three of you needed a good five minutes to recover from this, both men sticky with sweat the same way as you. 

They finally got up, George getting you and them clothes to change into (He gave Chris a set of his own) and Chris bringing a washcloth from the bathroom to carefully clean you up. Giggling, you thanked him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom yourself (always pee after sex!). 

George and Chris got dressed in a comfortable silence, only exchanging a look when they were both clothed and sitting on the bed, backs resting against the headrest.

“So,” George started, “should we tell the others?” He asked and Chris clicked his tongue.

“I think that’s up to you, mate. But,” his eyes darted to the bathroom you were still in, “if you do tell them, do not be surprised if they beg you to be next.”

George looked at him for a few seconds. Then, he grinned. 

“You know what? I might not even hate that idea.”

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner Menu

olives and cheese friends to lovers cold appetizer rough sex ceaser salad "Lie to me again and you're not gonna like what happens next" sarma "Gonna put a baby in you" orange juice overstimulation strawberry lemonade breeding kink (chicken skewer) "Be a good girl and come for me"

Oscar Piastri x best friend!roommate!reader

TW; fingering, unprotected sex, tinder and bad tinder dates, kind of asshole!oscar at the start

WC: 2k

A/N: can't decide if I love or hate this. also tysm for 100 followers, I love you guys.

❀

I hummed, doing my best to pretend I was listening for possibly the hundredth time this night. I watched as Jake, proving by every second to be my very failed Tinder date, rambled on and on about himself. The stories were never ending, and therefore neither was his talking. 

I leaned my head on my hand, praying he was going to run out of oxygen and choke so I wouldn’t have to listen to him talk anymore.

This whole thing was a bad idea.

I first joined Tinder because I was bored and wanted an easy out from my crush on my best friend, Oscar. This was my third date with a guy I met on the app and each guy, along with each date, was proving to be worse than the previous.

Example A: Steve

First of all, who goes on a date with a guy named Steve. But putting names aside Steve wasn’t all that bad until he was asked me to go back to his place. Which was his mother’s basement. 

Example B: Tod

Was holding a fish in his profile photo. Ordered me a salad. Proceed to talk about his buddy Kevin for the whole night and then ditched me to hang out with him. He may have been more into Kevin than me, to be honest.

And finally, sitting opposite of me, talking about his big finance job, we had example C: Jake.

Perhaps it was about time I gave up trying to find anything on that stupid app and accepted defeat. “Listen,” I pushed my chair away from the table and got up, grabbing my bag. “This has been really interesting but I need to get going.” I took enough money to cover the things I had and put it down on the table before walking away.

✿ ✿ ✿

“Had fun?” Oscar asked from the couch once I entered the apartment.

I put down my purse and the bag from the convenience store and started taking off my heels. “Sure,” I said, straightening up once I was done. “I just love hearing about finance.”

I looked over at him. Oscar was sitting on the couch in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white shirt. He was watching TV, some random movie playing on one of the channels.

Oscar and I shared an apartment - but he really only occupied it on the off season when he wasn’t traveling from one country to another every week. It worked out well for us, I had someone to split the rent to and Oscar didn’t have to bother with finding someone to take care of his place while he was traveling - so it was win-win.

I walked over and sat down next to him on the couch. I pulled a pack of Oreos from the bag and opened them, putting one in my mouth before offering the pack to him. “Want one?”

Oscar took one, turning it around in his hands quietly before looking at me. I could tell by the expression on his face that he was annoyed and his eyes had a dark look in them.

“Wow, okay.” I said, trying to get up from the couch. Sitting in my room and binging Criminal Minds it was then. “If I was annoying you, you could have just told me to go to my room.”

Before I could make my move to leave, Oscar grabbed my wrist. His hold was rougher than I expected, fingers digging into my flesh. “Why are you going on all these dates?”

“Honestly Oscar, why do you care?” I tried pulling my hand away but his hold wasn’t budging.

“Because every time you get dressed up, go on a date with some random guy and come back here with snacks. And then we sit on the couch, eat snacks and you tell me all about how terrible your date was.” He said, his eyes narrowing. “And I nod along, so sympathetic, pretending I actually care.”

I scoffed at him, using all the force I could and yanking my hand out of his grasp. “Fuck you, Oscar!” I told him, rolling my eyes. “No one made you listen to me. You could have told me I was bothering you and I would have fucked off.”

“It’s not that you were bothering me!”

“Oh yeah? Then what is it?”

“I like you, damnit!” Oscar all but yelled, jumping up onto his feet. His hands grabbed my shoulders and I looked up at him. “I like you! And I’m mad. Mad that you’re dressing up for some guys from Tinder when I’m right in front of you.”

My eyes widened, mouth agape. I must have looked like a fish. “Oscar,” my words were quieter than I expected them to come. My voice cracking. “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He confessed, his thumb rubbing the skin on my shoulder.

I licked my lips, looking up at him and offered a gentle smile. “I like you too,” I whispered, almost afraid to say it any louder.

Oscar doesn’t waste a second. As soon as the words are out of my mouth he is surging forward, smashing his lips against mine in a kiss much different from what I imagined our first would be like.

His hands move from my shoulders to wrap around my waist, pulling me into him. His lips are rough against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth. I can barely breathe and my head is feeling fuzzy but still I do my best to kiss him back.

Before I know it, Oscar is picking me up, my legs wrapped around his waist and our lips still connected. Then he’s carrying me to his room and laying me down on his bed, crawling up to me to resume our kiss.

“Fuck,” Oscar mumbled, finally detaching his lips from mine and pulling back to look at me. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me too,” I said, cupping the side of his face, rubbing his skin with my thumb. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying my best to grind up into him and gain any friction by rubbing myself against the bulge in his sweatpants. “Please, Osc, need you!”

“Need me?” Oscar growled, pulling away a little and pushing up the bottom of my dress, exposing my panties to him. His fingers rubbed over the wet patch on my panties, making me buck up into his touch. “Is that right? You need me to fuck you full of my cum and make you go stupid on my cock, is that it?”

I whined when he took off my panties and roughly pushed two fingers inside of me without any warning. It was an unexpected stretch with just a little burn to it to leave me breathless.

“Tell me, Y/n,” he started, his fingers pushing into me hard and fast, not slowing down at all. “Why’d you join dating apps?”

I took a breath, trying to compose myself enough to form a reply. “Was bored,” I whined, gripping onto the sheets.

He gave me a dark look before his free hand, the one he wasn’t pleasuring me with, came down full force to slap my pussy. I all but screamed out, my body jolting forward with the shock of it and grabbed his shoulder with one hand to steady myself.

“This was a little preview,” Oscar said with a chuckle. “Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next.” His eyes fixated on me and my cheeks burned both with embarrassment and from how good I was feeling. “Now try again.”

“I didn’t think you liked me so -” I cut myself off with a moan when his fingers pressed against my G-spot, stroking it a few times before going back to thrusting in and out of me. “Fuck Oscar! I wanted to find someone so I could get over you!”

“Good job telling the truth, bad job at trying that,” he said. His thumb started playing with my clit, rubbing it in circles and I moaned loudly, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

“Osc, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” I begged, the feel of his fingers inside of me and the added pleasure of having my clit toyed with pushing me fast toward the edge.

“Go on,” Oscar encouraged, keeping the rhythm of his fingers. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I was sobbing out from pleasure, my orgasm crashing over me and my hips bucking up. 

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my pussy, making me whine at the loss of being filled with something, and keeping his eyes on mine brought them up to his mouth and sucked them clean. 

I sat up a little and reached for him. Oscar let me pull off his shirt and I took a moment to admire his naked chest, running my hands over the ridges of his abdomen. Then he helped me take off my dress and bra, kissing me gently before he started trailing kisses down to my neck and collarbones.

“Osc,” I mumbled out, my fingers pulling on the strings of his sweatpants. “Fuck me please! Need to feel you in me. Need to feel you filling me.”

Oscar wasted no time, taking off his sweatpants and boxers in one go. I only got one good glance at his dick before he was pushing it inside me, bottoming out in one thrust.

He was big, the tip of his cock kissing against my cervix and with each thrust I could see an outline of his dick bulging out on my stomach.

“Fuck,” Oscar grunted. “We could have been doing this much sooner if you had just said you wanted me to fuck you.”

“You could have said something as well,” I shot back.

“Yeah but I wasn’t the one on dating apps.”

Oscar’s hand sneaked between us, his thumb once again finding my clit and starting to circle it. I screamed out in pleasure, hiding my face into Oscar’s neck. “So good, Osc, fuck,” I babbled. “Gonna cum again.”

Oscar sped up, both his thrusts and his fingers. “I’m gonna cum too,” he grunted. “Fuck, gonna put a baby in you so everyone knows you’re mine. You like that huh? Yeah you do, I can feel you clenching around me.”

His thumb brushed over my clit one more time and I was screaming out as my orgasm crashed into me. It didn’t take long for Oscar to reach his peak either. His hips stilling as he spilled himself inside of me.

Oscar rolled himself off of me and laid down on the bed. We laid in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of us panting for breath filling the air. Then the bed creaked when Oscar got up.

He left the room for a moment and then came back with a towel and my pajamas. He got on his knees in front of me on the bed and started cleaning up the mess between my legs. I whined when he brushed my clit, “Hurts. Too much, Osc!”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m just cleaning you up.” He said, bowing his head down and pressing a gentle kiss on my thigh. I let him do the rest without much protest. Once he was done he tossed the towel away and helped me put on my pajamas, then got into his.

Finally we got under the blankets and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a cuddle. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” He asked, his fingers playing with my hair, making me shudder with delight.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good,” he hummed. “I’m taking you out on a date.”

I only managed a smile and a nod in response before falling asleep.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey! P here!! How are you? Been busy a lot 😔 Can I request fic about James Vowles x wife reader? Since last season, James has been pursuing Carlos to join Williams but to no avail. To extend spending time with his family (I read somewhere about it, which is good I think 🤔) Anyways, she's been saying (jokingly) that he loves Carlos more than her with the amount of attention he's given to him even especially after Carlos joins the team. Compliment his hair, making it look like James had fallen in love with Carlos and now his wife. I can imagine how shocked and baffled James is about her jokes🤣🤣🤣 All these things lead to the F175 event at O2 and chaos happend. You decide how it goes. Add anything you want. Ask me anything. Thanks!! :))

Smooth Operator

James Vowles x Wife!Reader

feat. Carlos Sainz as the Unexpected Third in Your Marriage

hi I’m back after ages I have so many requests im working through I’m sorry it’s taking years but life is horrible rn anyways this one made me laugh hope yalls like it.

You were this close to adding Carlos Sainz to your Christmas card list and not because you liked him. Oh no,because at this point, it felt rude not to.

“Just admit it,” you said one morning, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as your husband stared lovingly oh so lovingly at an image of Carlos on the Williams simulator. “You’re in love with him.” James blinked. “Excuse me?” “With Carlos. Your hair idol. Your strategic soulmate. Your beautiful Spanish muse.”

He turned slowly, expression pained. “We’re not doing this again.”

You leaned on the kitchen island with a smile that spelled chaos. “He’s got thick curls, James. You said he’s a data genius. Yesterday I caught you complimenting his turn-in technique. What’s next? Love poems?”

James pinched the bridge of his nose like a man suffering. “I am the Team Principal of Williams Racing. This is business.”

“This is a crush. You’re emotionally cheating. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

He sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you, my dear husband, are flirting with danger. And Carlos.”

It had all started last season, when James became laser-focused on “Project Carlos.” He claimed it was about rebuilding Williams, strengthening the team, reshaping the future.

But all you heard was:

“Carlos is incredibly adaptable.”

“Carlos has unbelievable race awareness.”

“Carlos doesn’t just drive the car. He becomes one with the car.”

At one point, you genuinely wondered if James was going to name your future child Carlos.

When Carlos actually signed with Williams, you half-expected James to cry.

Instead, he opened a bottle of champagne and said, “This is the beginning of a new era.”

“For you and Carlos?” you asked.

“For the team,” he said. But you weren’t convinced.

The true chaos began at the F175 Launch Event at the O2.

You’d promised to be chill. Polished. Supportive.

You even wore your Nice Wife at PR Events dress. The red one. Very “I’m fine, my husband’s not cheating on me with a race car driver.”

But then someone on the panel asked James what it was like to sign Carlos.

And your darling husband turned to the mic with the serenity of a monk and said,

“Carlos brings something really rare. He’s sharp, strategic. He reads the car like a language only he understands. Honestly, watching him drive is like art. It’s… elegant.”

You turned your head slowly. “Elegant?” you mouthed. Elegant?

Then, like a woman possessed, you strode onto the stage.

“Hi, yes, sorry to interrupt,” you said sweetly, grabbing a mic. “I just wanted to confirm that I’m still married to James Vowles, even though he appears to be in a deeply committed emotional relationship with Carlos Sainz.”

Carlos, sipping water off-stage, choked.

The crowd erupted.

James looked like he’d aged fifteen years in fifteen seconds.

“Darling,” he said, his voice that calm, brittle tone you only hear when someone is internally screaming, “this is not the time.”

“No, James,” you said, planting your hand dramatically on your hip. “This is exactly the time. I just want to know if I’m going to be replaced by someone who has better curls and a smoother overtake.”

“I can explain-”

“Oh, no need. We’ll work out a custody schedule with Toto and Fred. Maybe alternating grands prix?”

“YOU’RE BEING RIDICULOUS,” James hissed.

Someone in the audience shouted, “LET HER COOK!”

Carlos was now hiding behind a curtain.

The next morning, your phone exploded.

Sky Sports: “Carlos Sainz Caught in Love Triangle?”

F1 Twitter: #VowlesVibes

CarlosFan69: “Why is this woman funnier than every man on the grid?”

James stood in the kitchen, scrolling grimly through the headlines.

“I’m a Team Principal, not a Bachelor contestant,” he muttered.

You, in your robe, sipping tea: “Maybe you shouldn’t flirt with Spaniards on live TV.”

“It wasn’t flirting,” he snapped. “I said his driving was elegant.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve never called me elegant.”

“Because you walked on stage and accused me of strategic adultery!”

“I was brave,” you said. “A woman in love. Defending her man from another man.”

His face dropped into his hands. “I’m married to a gremlin.”

You leaned in, grinning. “But I’m your gremlin.”

Later that day, Carlos sent James a text:

Carlos: Hey… everything okay? Do I need to issue a public apology? I didn’t mean to come between you two.

James: It’s fine. My wife just thinks I’m in love with your hair.

Carlos: …Are you?

James: I’m blocking you.

That night, James curled up beside you on the sofa, resting his head against your shoulder.

“You know I love you, right?” he mumbled into your shirt.

You smiled, stroking his hair. “Of course. But if Carlos ever invites you to a shampoo commercial…”

He groaned. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“I’ll understand,” you said sweetly. “I’ll pack your conditioner myself.”

After The Incident at the F175 launch the one where you jokingly accused your husband of being emotionally married to Carlos Sainz in front of God and every Sky Sports mic things had settled.

Barely.

The memes were still circulating. Your phone was still getting tagged in Twitter/X posts captioned “Me third-wheeling my parents’ divorce like #VowlesVibes.” And people were still calling James “a loyal yet emotionally confused king.”

But James? He was trying to carry on like everything was normal.

Which is why, when Carlos invited both of you to dinner, James said yes without hesitation.

You, however, stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Dinner?” you repeated. “With the man you abandoned me for?”

James groaned. “I did not abandon you. You stormed the stage like a Real Housewife of Monaco.”

“You called his driving elegant, James. That’s practically foreplay.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” “You’re lucky I didn’t bring a slideshow.”

The dinner was at some trendy, overpriced Italian place in London that clearly catered to rich people who wanted to pretend they were casual. You sat down at a three-person table tucked in a corner, candlelight flickering between bread baskets and sparkling water.

Carlos arrived ten minutes late, curls bouncing, smile too charming for someone who’d accidentally become the center of your marriage drama.

He hugged James. He hugged you.

You tried not to squint suspiciously at the way your husband’s hand lingered on Carlos’s shoulder.

“This place is nice,” Carlos said, settling in. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I was worried I caused some tension?”

You sipped your wine. “Carlos, you did nothing wrong. You just exist. With your hair. And your tactical driving style. And your surgeon hands.”

James choked on his water.

Carlos blinked. “Sorry??my what?”

James cleared his throat. “She thinks I talk about you too much.”

“You do,” you and Carlos said at the same time.

James raised a hand. “Okay, betrayal.”

The waiter came by, and just as you were ordering pasta, someone at the table next to you gasped—loudly.

“Oh my GOD,” a girl whispered, clutching her friend’s arm. “It’s them.”

You raised a brow.

“The… Williams love triangle!”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

“They went viral,” the friend whispered back. “The guy, the wife, and the other guy with the perfect hair this is them!”

You stared at James. “You see what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t ask to be in a tabloid throuple,” he hissed.

Suddenly, the girl leaned over, clutching her phone. “Can I get a picture of all three of you? You’re like, iconic. Like PolyF1Goals.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry?? what?”

She beamed. “You know, like a throuple! You, your husband, and Carlos!”

Carlos blinked. James looked like he’d swallowed a fork.

You?

You smiled sweetly and said, “Of course.”

So yes, there is now a photo floating online of James in the middle, looking like he’s questioning every life decision, you smiling like the chaos demon wife you are, and Carlos doing a confused peace sign like he’d just stumbled into a cult.

The caption?

“Williams going for podiums and polyamory in 2026. #ThroupleTrouble #VowlesSainzWife”

Later that night, back at home, you flopped onto the bed and checked your phone.

Another headline.

“Carlos Sainz Caught in Unexpected Romantic Dynamic With Williams Boss and Wife”

Experts weigh in: Is this the future of F1?

James walked into the room and faceplanted on the bed beside you.

“I’m going to be buried with this story on my tombstone, aren’t I?”

You stroked his back lovingly. “Right next to a bouquet of Carlos’s curls.”

James groaned into the pillow. “I hate you.”

You kissed his temple. “No you don’t. You love me more than Carlos.”

He hesitated. “…Yes. But only slightly.”

That caused another wave of the endless storm of “ you love Carlos more” rant from you.

[sommerbueckers]

paige bueckers x r being drew’s babysitter!!

THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO FKN LONG CUS I WASNT SURE IF I LIKED THE WAY IT FLOWED OR NOT.

Part two here !!

I typed away on my computer as I tried to finish up the last of my homework. Drew was sprawled out beside me on the couch with his eyes glued to the tv, he had been silently watching Avengers: Endgame for the last hour and had promised to be quiet if I let him stay up an extra thirty minutes. I often had a hard time saying no to the kid, who wouldn't after seeing a smile as bright as his?

The ringing from my phone had been drowned out by the noise coming from the tv, and if it hadn't been more the constant vibrating I would've missed it. Answering the call, I told Drew I'd be back shortly before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Hello," I spoke into the phone.

"Hey peach, how's it going over there?" my mom questioned.

"It's going good, he's watching a movie right now," I said.

"How long are you going to be? Your grandmother is here and..." her voice trailed off for a moment and I could hear her shuffling around, "she's driving me crazy."

I snorted, "Maybe around an hour or so, I have to put Drew to bed and then wait for the parents to come back."

"Okay-" her voice was cut off by my grandmother's.

"Hi baby!" she exclaimed.

"Hi Nana," I smiled to myself.

"When are you coming back from that job of yours?" she asked.

"Soon."

"Well hurry, your mother is in a bad mood and it's getting me all frustrated and such," she groaned.

"Yeah, she tends to get like that, always complaining," I laughed.

I narrowed my eyes at the pair of headlights that begun to shine through the house. I poked my head out from the kitchen to see Drew looking at the window from his place on the couch. His parents weren't supposed to be back for another hour and they hadn't called to let me know about an early arrival.

I pulled my phone from my ear to check my notifications, and when I didn't find anything new, I slowly made my way toward the front windows. Exiting the back of a black SUV was Paige, Drew's older sister. She had a wide smile spread across her face as she shut the door, shaking her head. She stood there for a moment as she talked with whoever was sitting in the front seats of the car, and I felt Drew come up beside me to see out as well.

"It's Paigey!" he shouted happily, looking at me.

I nodded my head and watched him walk over to the door to unlock it. My grandma's voice on the other end of the phone pulled me back into conversation.

"You there hon?" she asked quizzically.

"Yeah, i'm here nana but I have to go," I told her.

"Aw, that's alright. I'll see you soon, right?"

"Yeah, i'll be home in a bit."

"Okay then, bye-bye," she said.

"Bye," I responded, slipping the phone into the pocket of my sweats.

Drew stood smiling with the door open as Paige made her way up the stairs and into the house. She picked him up into her arms and shut the door, locking it behind her.

"What's up dude, you miss me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded honestly.

Paige laughed before setting him down, "Whatchu been doin?"

"Me and Bee made cookies and we made tiktoks, and then she let me stay up past my bedtime!" he told her, grinning from ear to ear.

"I see that," she glanced at me for a moment and a wave of nervousness washed over me.

She didn't seem upset at the fact that I had let Drew stay up, but he had a bedtime for a reason and maybe I should've just followed it. This was my third time babysitting for the family and Drew and I had gotten pretty comfortable with each other, I just wanted him to have a little fun.

By now, the credits for the movie had begun to roll and I pretended to be fascinated with all the stars that had been in it. I heard Paige tell Drew to go upstairs and get ready for bed, and when his little figure disappeared on the second floor, she proceeded into the kitchen. I bit my lip as I followed after her, nervously playing with my nails.

"He promised he'd go to bed without a fight if I let him finish the movie, I didn't see the harm in it," I admitted, leaning against the wall.

"Nah you're good, he usually only gets to stay up when he's with me so he definitely didn't mind," she laughed.

I breathed out a sigh of relief, "Good."

She pulled a pack of Oreos out of the cabinet and set them on the counter, ripping them open and eating straight from the pack. Her eyes zeroed in on my shirt and she was silent for a moment before she said, "What position?"

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows as my mind immediately thought about sex, but that couldn't have been right.

She then smirked and gestured to my shirt, "Your shirt says Wayzata volleyball, what position do you play?"

I peered down at my shirt and mentally slapped myself for being so horny, "Oh, right, uhm i'm a setter."

"That's the one who does the thing with the hands right?" she asked, putting her hands above her head and pushing her fingertips up.

I laughed lightly, "Yeah."

She cockily brushed off her shoulder, "Yeah, I know my stuff."

"I see that."

"I think I've seen you play before, I was only there for like half of a game but it was pretty cool," Paige revealed, shoving another Oreo into her mouth.

"Hm," I hummed, "i saw you play once or twice last year."

Paige smirked and began to make her way to the other side of the counter where I was standing, "You mean the games against your school where we kicked your asses?"

"Well I wouldn't say all that, but yes."

Paige extended the Oreos out to me, "How would you put it?"

I gently took a few and thought about my answer, "You caught them on a bad day."

"Oh yeah?" Paige raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm."

"Both times?"

"Both times."

"Interesting take, I guess we'll have to see Tuesday night," she shrugged, a smirk crossing her face. "You gonna be there?"

"Probably not, I'll just ask somebody how it went," I said.

"Ah nah, you gotta be there," Paige smiled as she shook her head.

"Why?" I frowned, but couldn't stop the smile that broke through.

Paige stepped closer, "Because I wanna point at you when the game ends and we're up twenty."

"You are so cocky," I laughed.

The blonde held her hands up in defense, laughing along with me. A silence washed over us but I could still feel her eyes on me. We stared at each other for a moment, but just as she went to say something, Drew came running into the kitchen. He had changed out of his jeans and long sleeve and now wore a pair of dinosaur pajamas. He looked between the two of us as he said, "I'm ready for bed now."

"Are you sure you're ready?" Paige asked.

"Yeah," Drew responded.

"Hm, are you positive you're ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, let's go," Paige said, stooping down so Drew could get on her back.

I followed the two of them upstairs and into Drew's room. Paige set him down and pulled the covers over him, "You got to stay up tonight so you better go to sleep," she gently pushed his forehead back.

He laughed lightly, "I will."

"Mhm, goodnight bro," Paige ruffled the boy's curls before she stood up and looked at me.

I smiled at her and turned to Drew, "Sleep tight dude."

I switched the lamp off and joined Paige in the hallway, softly closing Drew's bedroom door behind me. The lighting in the hallway was dim, the only sources being the lights downstairs and the one coming from Paige's room across the hall. We stood there quietly for a moment, her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed while I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets.

The longer I stared at her, the more I began to notice how attractive she was. She was tall and slender and happened to check every box when it came to my physical type in girls. Her head rested back on the wall as she watched me watch her with the cockiest expression on her face. When my eyes finally met hers, I felt embarrassed for how long I had been staring at her, but she didn't seem phased.

Did Paige like girls?

"My dad and stepmom aren't gonna be back for a minute," the blonde stated in a low voice.

I nodded, "I know."

She pushed herself off the wall and gestured to her room, "You can come in here if you want, give you a taste of what i'm bringing to the court Tuesday."

I raised my eyebrows, "Let's see then."

Paige pushed her door open wider and allowed me to step in first. It was pretty plain as far as decoration went, there were purple bedsheets and a few posters on the wall but nothing major. Her playstation sat on the dresser beside her tv and there were a few water bottles scattered around, but nonetheless it was clean.

I sat on the edge of the bed and Paige flipped the light on and grabbed the remote to the tv.

"You play 2k?" she asked.

"No, I don't really play anything other than GTA," I laughed.

"Rookie ass game," she joked, shaking her head.

She turned on the playstation and grabbed two controllers from a drawer, handing me one. "What's this for?"

"I'm in the mood to sweep, what team do you wanna play for?" she asked when the game screen popped up.

I frowned, "That's not fair, I don't even know how to play!"

"Fine," she sighed, "I'll teach you how to play...and then I'll sweep you."

"That was not fun at all," I sighed out, setting the controller down beside me.

Paige and I had been playing for thirty minutes, and out of all the games that we had started and finished, I had won none.

The blonde turned to me with a cheeky smile on her face, simply shrugging her shoulders. She laid back on the bed and put her hands over her face. As hard as I fought myself on not letting my eyes wander, self-restraint was a trait I didn't posses.

Her shirt was pulled up at the bottom, flashing a bit of her stomach. I watched her chest rise and fall under her shirt, and I wondered what color bra she was wearing. I wondered if I had the guts to be as bold as my alter ego was, would she let me find out?

I could feel my face growing hot the longer my mind ran wild, and I quickly turned my attention back to the tv.

"What do you wanna do now?" Paige asked quietly.

"I don't know..." I answered.

After shifting herself so that we were closer, thighs touching and all, Paige sat up.

"Me neither."

She said nothing as she stared at me in the darkness with the light from the recently ended 2k game illuminating our faces. It reminded me of the stare I gave girls across the net when the score was close in the second set, my eyes filled with nothing but determination. Only Paige's stare was filled with something else, something darker.

I could've been psyching myself out, you can only read so much Tumblr before it starts to affect your way of thinking, but my gut told me I wasn't. More rationally, the way her eyes were switching between my eyes and my lips told me I wasn't.

I have so much homework to finish.

Her parents would be home soon.

Drew was sleeping right across the hall.

I don't even know her.

"Do you wanna do something?" Paige asked me.

"Yeah, sure," I nodded, clearing my throat.

I waited for Paige to stand, to turn to another video game or perhaps find a movie that we could both watch. Instead, she stayed seated in her place next to me, eyes fixed on me. It was then and only then that I realized what she meant by 'something.' At least what I hoped thought she meant.

"Are we going to do something or what?" I...challenged?

Paige laughed and leaned closer, "Only if you want to."

"I'm still sitting here aren't I?"

___________________________________________________________

[fandomscombine]

New Kid

Spencer Reid x Reader

BG: It’s your first day at the BAU and meeting the team. The team is surprised with how you’re hitting it off with a certain Doctor but what they don’t know is that a bigger surprise is yet to come.  

A/N: My first Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid Fic! It’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year now and finally tied an ending together. (Are we over a 2-year writing slump? We’ll see!)

Honestly it’s pure season 1/season 2 team fluff crack and chaoticness! Wanted to capture the early seasons team dynamics. Hope you all enjoy!

Fun fact, it’s all the Spencer Reid x Reader fics that kept popping in my recommendations that I started reading and falling in love with Reid prior to starting the show!

WC: 1307

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

This is it. Your first day as a Special Agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Growing up reading detective stories and solving mysteries were your favorite pastimes. 

You’re grateful for having a family environment that was supportive of your thirst for knowledge and endless curiosity.

The receptionist has informed you that the team is waiting for you upstairs, ready to give your orientation tour.

"Thanks." You replied, half mildly picking at your nails. In just an elevator ride away, you'd be in the midst of the smartest profilers alive. And nothing goes unnoticed – that you know very well.

A vibration in your pocket breaks your thoughts. A smile slips to your face. 

"Stop picking at your fingers." The voice on the other line says.

"Hello to you dad." You can't help but roll your eyes. "I wasn't even–" You look down at your left hand. Shit. "How'd you even know?" 

"I just do, I watched you grow up for 25 years." 

"Yea yea."

"Hey kid, sorry I couldn’t be there—“

“You’ve got a whole auditorium full of nerds dying to hear your lectures, I understand.” The door in front of you opens and you step inside.

“Thanks kid. I’ll make it up to you. How does an extra large, extra saucy lasagne sound?”

“Oooh yes, don’t forget with extra cheese!” The monitors indicate: 3/F, 4/F, 5/F.  “By the way, you’ve told them right?” As you step out, you spot a group of agents handled near the department entrance. “Anyway I’ll see you later, gotta go. Bye.” Quickly cutting the line off, not wanting to seem unprofessional, chatting on the phone.

“Special Agent y/m/n?” Said the brunette.

You opted to be referred to by your first and Mother’s maiden name, when you first started out. Wanting to stand on your own merits and making a name for yourself.

“That’s me.” 

“Special Agent Greenaway, this is Agent Jareau, and Agent Garcia.” You shake hands with the two agents “Call me JJ” 

But you are quickly engulfed into a hug by the third, which you have to admit took you by surprise.  “You can call me Penelope.-- Opps sorry, just excited to have another female member in the team!” You give her a warm smile, patting her shoulder, “No worries, Penelope. Just caught me off-guard.”

“Come on, let’s meet the rest of the team.” JJ says, leading you all into the bullpen.

“So this would be your desk right here” points Agent Greenaway. “Which is right across from Agent Morgan–”

“Derek, Derek Morgan m’ beautiful lady.” cuts in the man. 

You can’t help but blush from the compliment. “You always flirt with the new kid, huh Derek?” You challenge, playing off his energy. 

“Ignore him,” 

“Cmon’ Elle. It’s all good fun!”

Elle directs you to a hunched figure behind Derek.

“This is our resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid.”  She points to Reid, who is preoccupied with a lego model to have noticed the group. 

“Dr. Reid! I’ve heard so much about you!” Reaching out your hand, to grab his attention. His head instantly shoots up, eager to know the culprit who distracted him from finishing this model of the Delorean and give them a piece of his mind.

“Hey! I was just finishing -.” His voice trails off upon realizing that A. it wasn’t one of his teammates making fun of his legos but instead a face he doesn’t recognize and B. feeling bad on being the reason why your bright smile turned into a frown. “Oh Sorry! Sorry Ms–”

“y/m/n” Your father had shared stories about the team, especially Spencer, his protege. He was the person you were most excited to meet, though with this first interaction - you were discouraged with how it went. Perhaps you shouldn’t have run multiple scenarios on how you’d wow the team with such high standards. 

Dropping your arm, eager to quickly change the subject, you turn to Elle. “ So what cases do we –”

“y/m/n? As in y/f/n y/m/n!?” Spencer exclaims, his eyes wide. Big hand gestures dancing through the air as he raved.  “ The author of ‘The Correlation Between The Probability of Sudden Adult Anger Outburst and Childhood Familial Upbringing.’ ?

You’d had your thesis quoted back to you by professors and peers, but never with such childlike wonder written all-over Spencer’s face, making you blush. “Yes! But how -”

“I’ve read so much about you! Your work, I mean.” Spencer isn’t normally affected by how he’s perceived by others. Spitting out facts in the speed of light is synonymous to his identity and it’s nothing he’s ashamed of. But it's rare to have someone beautiful and intelligent be into the same niche interests that he has. Spencer only has one shot on not coming on as weird and it’s not going well, so he elaborates.  “I got it from Gideon’s pile. I picked it up on a whim but your writing is spectacular! I read through it in 12 mins!”

“Wait, you read through my 250 page dissertation in under 12 mins?” You questioned, looking around the team to check if you’ve misheard. 

“Affirmative. It would have been faster, but I was jotting down some notes.”

“Notes, huh?” Crossing your arms, the paper had gone through multiple reviews from your professors before submission. It should be damn near perfect. “Alright, Doctor Reid. I’m interested, how about you show me your notes over coffee?”

“Actually…” Spencer raised his finger, interjecting. “It might take a bit longer than an hour and I would love to dig into your brain. Perhaps we could go over it at dinner?”

“Name the time and place.” You grabbed the nearest post-it and quickly wrote down your phone number. “Now will you excuse me, I believe I’m late for my introductory meeting with Agent Hotchner.” 

With that you broke away from the make-shift team circle and headed you to Hotch’s office, leaving the team still frozen in their spot.

Derek was the first to speak. “Did pretty boy just ask out the new girl without stuttering and succeed?”

“Good, so everyone else witnessed that too right?” Added Penelope. 

JJ nodded in agreement, too stunned to speak as if it would break the illusion.

“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked. “I simply asked if we could compare notes!”

“No. Technically she initiated it.” Elle clarified.

Shaking his head, Spencer eyes trailed to the now closed Hotch’s door. 

“Yea, to which you effortlessly turned from coffee date to a dinner date!” Exclaimed Derek, earning Spencer a pat on the back. “The boy’s got game!”

“It’s not a date! At least I don’t think it is - I bet she doesn’t see me that way. Nobody does.” Spencer sighs, sulking back down to his seat. Reality catching up to him by the second, erasing any hope that a woman like you would have any romantic interest in a nerd like him. 

“Trust me kid.” Come a voice, effectively cutting Reid’s thoughts. Gideon nonchalantly walks up to the empty desk marked “Agent y/n y/m/n”, moves the box of your belongings to make space for  what seems to be a plastic bag of takeaway. “You're her type.” 

“What?” Spencer asks, more confused than ever. The looks across the team’s face reflect his own reaction. “And how would you know that?” 

“With all due respect, sir.” Added JJ, careful not to overstep. “You haven’t seen y/n and you got all that from her untouched desk?”

“Yea Gideon, we know you’re good but you can’t be that good!”

Gideon brushed off Derek’s brassiness and smirked. Proceeding to head up to his office, finally addressing the group only halfway up the steps. “I know, cause she's my daughter.”

“WHAT?!” exclaimed the BAU team, who once again found themselves frozen by a member of the Gideon family.

[hybridirl]

who first?

18+ only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader x abby

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i was with my family the past week celebrating a holiday :)!! now i’m back and i’m gonna try and pump out a few. i am in fact working on the ellie x loser!reader pt2, so pls bear with me! i’m still thinking up ideas. this shit is harddd

brief summary: ellie and abby are the bestest of friends, and you’re… there. they kinda feel bad for you, so they bring home some of the “good shit” for a game. never have i ever? with shots. reversed. haven’t done it? drink!!!

tw / AU, *DUBCON* (reader is drunk (but so is ellie and abby)), strap-on, use of y/n, cunnilingus (r and e receiving), tit-slapping, porn no plot, rushed sex, threesome, reader gets referred to as “girl”

ᡣ𐭩

watching tiktoks for hours on end was never your proudest pastime, especially when your two roommates were constantly out partying. you, honestly, were a third wheel. well, to be fair, you came into this friendship way after these two had already been established as this inseparable duo. still, being a friend - even if it’s not as deep - doesn’t mean you should be excluded from their little activities.

so, this is how your night has gone so far: moping around, trying to bake some cookies you found on tiktok, and binging tiktok. you sat on the island of the kitchen, a frown plastered on your face as you munched on your fifth cookie.

you glanced at the clock: 11:35 PM. you knew exactly what this meant; one of them is slutting themselves out while the other waits to drive themselves home. god, how it aggravated you! - how easily they could get into someone’s pants by just looking at them while you had to ease your way into it. that slow, smooth talking you, except it rarely ever worked and you came off as a creep. the pickup lines from reddit don’t seem to work in reality, huh?

pulling yourself off the counter and shoving the last piece of cookie into your mouth, you wondered why you stayed up until they came back. maybe you were just a little afraid to go to sleep alone, maybe you were just simply lonely. you wanted them to come home, tell you about their day and get envious at their friendship that you weren’t in on and that you didn’t have. poor you. you were like a watchdog, always staying up and looking out until your ‘owners’ came along, praising you for your good work so you could get your little dopamine rush. you even whimpered, just a little, as you sat on the couch to watch some cheesy drama movie that you had zero interest in. about thirty minutes in, the door opens. you turn your head and watch your two acquaintances walk in, both holding a suspiciously shaped brown bag.

“hey,” you greet, “what’re those?” you pointed toward the bags in their hands.

“just stuff for you,” ellie chirped first, setting the bag on the coffee table.

“us, she means,” abby cut in, setting hers down. you watched as they revealed what was shielded from her viewing: two tall bottles of ‘devil’s spring vodka.’

you cocked your head to the side and spoke, “for us? what for?” they gave you a ‘what do you think?’ look before ellie headed off to get three shot glasses. she placed one in front of you, abby, and herself.

“so, y/n,” abby began, popping the top and pouring some into each glass. “we know you’re lonely and we thought we’d do something for you, huh? sound good?” you pursed your lips and nodded, completely weirded out by this interaction.

“we’re gonna play a game,” ellie said, circling her glass with her hands. “it’s like ‘never have i ever.’ ever played?” you nodded. “good. so, each time someone says something you haven’t done, you take a shot. got it?” you nod again. “a—lright, you guys ready?” abby smiles and raises her hand.

“i’ll go first,” she told, an obvious mischievous glint in her eye, “let’s start of tame. so, y/n, have you ever… kissed someone in public? i’m not talking a little peck, i’m talking seriously making out.” your face heated, and your jaw dropped just slightly. you thought about lying, of course, just to seem cool, but, you knew they’d know.

“i-i… no, i haven’t,” you muttered out, shakily reaching your hand toward your glass. you took a sip, wincing at the burn in your throat.

“c’mon, y/n, the whole thing,” ellie chuckled at your ministrations. you whimpered silently before your head tilted back, gulping the rest down.

“ugh,” you groaned as you set it down and watched as ellie pour more into your glass. you had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

“okay, my turn,” ellie giggled, looking at the two of you. “okay, y/n, have you ever… had someone motorboat you?” your brows furrowed immediately.

“m-motorboat? i, well, um… no.”

“drink up then, girl.” they watched as you took another brave shot, your face contorting into what looked like pain, and, to be fair, it was painful.

you were about to speak, for your turn, but abby interrupted quickly, barely even noticing your open mouth, “my turn, huh?” abby questioned. your jaw shut right back up, letting her take the lead. letting her do her thing. “so, y/n, ever, i don’t know, let’s get a little crazier with this one, yeah? ever been in a threesome?”

you stared at abby with wide eyes, why are they asking you this stuff? why only you?

“no…” you whispered, continuing your stare on her as you went to take yet another shot. you were already starting to feel a buzz, already starting to feel the heat in your tummy. with a slightly clouded head, you turned to ellie. she was smirking, her eyes knowing as her lips parted once more.

“how about you give it a go?” ellie asked you, and you felt some relief.

“h-have you guys ever, um… have you guys ever… had a threesome?” you asked in a low voice. you watched abby roll her eyes and go to grab her glass, as with ellie.

“o—kay, my turn,” ellie clasped her hands together, after setting her glass back down, “ever taken it up the ass, y/n?”

“why are you only asking me?” you gawked, reaching for your glass. you took the next shot, and felt a sudden need for more.

“because we already know what we’ve did,” abby replied, another shot of the vodka slithering down her throat. “mm, that’s some good shit. so, y/n, have you ever topped?” you sighed as you reached for the glass once more. “oh, so you’re a bottom? figures. i mean, look at you.” you looked up at her, slightly offended whilst your hands went to pour yourself another shot.

“have you guys ever, uh, had public… sex?” you found yourself boldly asking, obvious that this drink was getting to you. they both raised their glasses to their lips.

this went on and on, mostly them asking you, you sometimes asking them until you were all drunk out of your minds.

“y/n,” ellie finally groaned and she scooted closer to you. you hadn’t realized the proximity of them both, slowly decreasing as the night went on. you hummed a response, your eyes half closed and your face hot. “h’ve you ever, uh, fantasized? about us?” ellie asked, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. your hand didn’t reach for the glass, rather you simply stared into those green eyes. “yeah? you have? why didn’t you tell us? we coulda’ made all of your dreams come true, sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand meeting your waist.

“i-i was n-nervous,” you whined, “didn’ wanna say anythin’…”

“y/n, baby,” abby purred into your ear, “you don’ gotta be nervous ‘round us.” your head throbbed as you bit your lip; their hands explored your body, slowly molding you into your arousal. you wondered if this was their plan all along as their fingers danced around your PJs, caressing your inner thighs…

“please,” you whispered and their eyes flickered toward you. “…t-touch me…” you sighed blissfully as ellie’s hand finally met with your pajama-clad vulva. abby’s head dipped into the crook of your neck; she kissed up your neck and throat, then tilted your head toward hers to kiss your lips. sloppily, her tongue slipped into your mouth, prodding and massaging your tongue. your own mingled with hers, dancing around each other’s. you barely noticed your bottoms being tugged down, only realizing once the chill of the air hit your heat.

“lemme taste ‘er first,” abby said quickly as she pulled away from your swollen lips.

“no,” ellie whined, tugging your body toward hers.

“it was my idea,” she growled in return, “now let me have her first.” ellie huffed, but let go. she took asylum in your breasts; lifting your shirt up, she immediately dove into your mounds. she licked up to your nipple, taking it between her lips. you let out a broken moan as she nibbled on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around your pebbling nipples.

abby slid your legs open with her hands, spreading your labia with her thumb.

“how long h’ve you been this wet, y/n?” an obvious rhetorical question. you were too occupied with ellie and the worship of your breasts.

“a’w-while,” you managed to croak, though. you heard her chuckle and felt your body being tugged toward her more. “mmf, abby, be gentle…” ellie watched as abby’s head dipped between your legs, then her eyes flickered to your face to watch it contort in pleasurable expressions. “abby… ngh…” your hand reached to tug at her blonde hair, earning a groan from her lips.

“i heard she’s a p-pro,” ellie whispered to you while she tugged off her bottoms. your eyes fluttered, staring dazed at the sight of her pussy.

“want,” you purred out. ellie only smirked at you, her hands moving in to shove you down onto the couch. her legs straddled your head and she lowered herself onto you without warning, virtually smothering you. “mmf!” your brows were furrowed, your nose smooshed against her wet cunt. she ground her hips into your face, covering it in her slick.

“c’mon, y/n, thought you wanted it.” your doe eyes kept gazing up at her and you began to do the best you could with her weight in your face, your tongue working hard against her swollen clit.

both of the feelings were intoxicating, abby at your pussy, you at ellie’s. your legs tightened around abby’s head as her fingers found your g-spot, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. you moan into ellie, slurping at the nectar leaking from her. you’re so intoxicated, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or this delicious feeling. your hands gripped ellie’s sides and you pulled her closer. you were whimpering, moaning, abby’s tongue wriggling into you, her fingernails digging into your plush thighs.

“mmm!” you cried, your eyes shutting as you felt a knot in your stomach begin to uncoil, your juices coating abby’s tongue and face.

“ahn, yeah,” abby groaned. “righ’ on my tongue, sweethear’.” your eyes were rolling, face scrunched in pleasure. it was a sure sight for ellie, drawing - no, forcing ellie’s own climax to follow suit. her arousal painted you, creaming on your face as she held your head close to her.

“oh, god, please please please — fuck!”

she ground against you, riding her orgasm out in your face. her clit bumped your nose, and your hands gripped her hips, slowly guiding her to a halt as she came down. as she got up from you, she took a moment to admire her work. your face looked so exhausted, wet with her, and needy for more.

“abby,” ellie said, “g-go get the…” she gestured into the direction of the bedrooms, then abby knew what she was talking about. she made her way into one the bedrooms, who knows which, and rummaged through. you watched the hallway curiously, ready for her arrival. you tried to sit up, but ellie only grabbed you, laying you down on her thighs. when abby came out, you were surprised to find her pant-less, and with a harness strapped to her person, not to mention a dildo hanging from it. she approached, slow and cautious steps. you couldn’t tell if she was trying to tease you or try to get you into the idea.

“you wan’ it?” she asked you, slowly crawling into the sofa, then nudging and prodding your wetness with the head.

“wan’ it.”

“alrigh’, sweet girl,” she breathed, easing the head into your slippery entrance. “good?” you nodded your head, egging her on silently.

“abby,” you moaned breathlessly. she shushed you, halting her movements so you could get used to her. she ran her rough hands down your sides, down, down, to your clit, gently rubbing it to make you feel some sort of goodness as she stood still. “move, please,” you whimpered.

“y/n, you should see ‘yer face right now,” ellie giggled, caressing the side of your head. “god, y’so pretty. fuck ‘er, abby, hurry. look at ‘er face.” abby rolled her eyes, not usually taking commands. she was going to anyway, but…

“oh!” you gasped from her sudden movements, a tight snap from her hips. “f-fuck!”

“mmm, ‘n moans so pretty,” ellie praised, “didn’ get to hear ‘ya so well when you were under me. gettin’ smothered by my pussy... mhm…” she caressed your face again, cupping your cheeks as abby began to pound you.

“abby!” you cried to her, eyes shut tight, hands flailing to find somewhere to rest. they found abby’s biceps, gripping them tightly as she slapped her hips against yours. “please, ngh!” you grit your teeth, jaw clenched while pleasure overtook you.

“eyes open,” abby growled, “‘n on me.” you had to fight yourself to open your eyes, but the sight in front of you was perfect. abby’s blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her braid dangling and swinging with each thrust, her slack jaw, fuck. “yeah, ‘atta girl.” she was thrusting just right, obviously so experienced. it was pleasing her, too, the strap hitting just right at her swollen clit.

how badly you wanted to touch her body, worship her like you did quietly with her eyes. she was like a greek god, muscular and sculpted so perfectly. especially now, sweat marbling her skin and her chiseled body over yours. you almost forgot ellie was there, being as (almost) quiet as she was. glancing up, you caught sight of her, her fingers buried into her cunt. the sight alone was enough to make you cum once more, but you couldn’t, not so early. you looked back up at the deity above you who was staring into your eyes.

“abby,” you groaned. you threw your head back, going dumb on her cock. “right there… f-please…” cross-eyed, you sobered up a little as you felt a harsh pain on your breasts. “oh!” you gasped, feeling her large hand slap your chest. “abby!”

“take my cock, girl,” abby panted, hands squeezing your breasts, using them as leverage as she continued her pounding.

“fu—ck,” ellie groaned to the sight of you and to the noise of her fingers in her cunt, squelching, obscene, and loud. “y’doing so good, y/n… yes… uhn!”

you ran your hand up abby’s biceps, wrapping your arms around her neck. this prompted her to lean in and kiss your lips, deep and hungry. your hand cupped her cheek, pulling her close while your lips collided. abby pulled away first to admire your body and you took this moment to lift your arms above your head, desperately trying to pull ellie closer by her legs. she scoot closer and you cocked your head to the side, immediately licking at her cunt.

“yeah,” abby moaned, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. “lick ‘er fuckin’ pussy.” she gripped your waist, hurriedly thrusting into you, her clot bumping against the harness. “fuck, i’m cumming!” she moaned, collapsing onto you as she came. she kissed at your neck, bit at it, too, while she continued to thrust, needing you to cum, too. her fingers finding your clit, furiously rubbing it.

you couldn’t help it anymore; biting into ellie’s thigh, you came. squirted, actually. all over her cock, all over her abdomen. your body was convulsing, shaking and twitching for her. ellie followed in suit, your teeth pushing her over the edge as they sunk deeper into her. all three of you were moaning, crying, holding each other tight.

“fuck,” you were the first to say. abby slowly pulled out of you, panting deeply.

“you squirted,” abby chuckled with admiration. she squeezed your thighs and glanced up at ellie, “all good?” she asked. ellie nodded.

“yeah, just,” she sighed blissfully, “fuck. we should do this again.” you giggled and kissed ellie’s thigh.

“mhm,” you agreed.

maybe your (sex?) life has just changed for the better.

[rninies]

dodging his kisses ⟡ dan heng

synopsis dan heng needs his daily kisses from you but march has other plans ^_^

warnings fluff, gn!reader, idk if dan heng might be ooc or not but </3

NOTES finally back with a dan heng fic + creating a taglist for hsr fics!! send an ask to my inbox to be added :3

you and march were an inseparable duo ever since you first joined the astral express. with that, march was the source of mischief and the number one person you can come to whenever you wanted to prank dan heng.

which is how we got here today. a bright sunny morning, dan heng is still fast asleep while you and march were busy talking with each other in the kitchen while making breakfast.

"hey y/n," march starts, munching on a piece of bread. "why not try dodging his kisses for a day? i'll treat you to tasty food in xianzhou luofu if you manage to do this for at least until 3pm."

you raised your eyebrows, giving march a confused look. "so suddenly?"

"what? i wanna see dan heng get frustrated for once! i've been traveling with dan heng for, what, 3 months now and i have yet to see a single emotion other than a blank stare on his face!" march complains, suddenly eating her bread faster. "you're curious too, right? to see dan heng get visibly upset."

"well, yeah but i feel like i would crumble at the sight of dan heng getting sad because i dodged his kisses. march, you know how much he loves kissing me," you replied, playing around with the spoon on the table.

"okay, how about this," march says, leaning forward. "you do what i just said, and i will treat you to tasty food and buy you that outfit you were eyeing during one of our missions."

this piqued your interest. "how'd you know i wanted that outfit?"

march gives you a smug smile. "of course i know! i'm your best friend, after all. so, up for the bet?"

you thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing to it with a sigh at the end. "okay, fine. you better keep your promise or else." giving march an intimidating glare, you left the kitchen to go back to your room.

dan heng was still fast asleep on your bed (he slept in your room because he said his bed was uncomfortable — but you knew it was because he wanted to cuddle with you). you sat down on the empty space next to him and just silently admired him, a soft smile appearing on your face as you see how cozy and relaxed he looks.

dan heng suddenly stirs, opening his eyes slightly. "g'morning, love."

"morning, baby! sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked, caressing his hair.

he shakes his head. "no you didn't, don't worry." he sits up and was about to give you a kiss but you immediately dodged which surprises dan heng.

"breakfast is ready!" you exclaimed, pulling dan heng out from the bed. "you can shower after breakfast, mkay?"

dan heng nodded slowly, still not understanding why you dodged his usual morning kiss. "...okay." he subconsciously has a small pout on his face, and you honestly felt bad for doing so.

when you entered the kitchen, march was no longer there, and you figured it was because she didn't want to third-wheel.

"here you are," you let dan heng sit in his usual seat, grabbed his plate, and placed the food on top. dan heng takes a bit out of the food and you looked at him with expectant eyes. "does it taste good?"

"mhm," dan heng hums, giving you a small smile. "you didn't burn it this time either."

you blushed. "w-we don't talk about that! i told you i forgot i was cooking! i didn't burn it on purpose."

"whatever you say, love," dan heng was about to give you a kiss on the cheek but you were quick to dodge, promptly backing away from him. dan heng raises an eyebrow at your move and placed his utensils down. "okay, what's going on? why are you dodging my kisses?"

"h-huh? what are you talking about? i'm not dodging!" you stuttered out, looking away.

with his eyebrows still raised, he leans forward. "mm, are you sure about that?" and before he could land his surprise kiss, you quickly covered your mouth, which was honestly a bad move because even if dan heng was a bit oblivious to certain things, he isn't when it comes to your actions. "seriously, what is going on?"

you frowned, dropping your hands with a disappointed sigh. "you just ruined my prank. march promised to buy me an outfit i saw while we were in the luofu if i completed the prank."

dan heng blinks and laughed. "really? just for that outfit? you know i can buy it for you when we go back there."

"REALLY?!" you exclaimed, turning your whole body to face him. "are you serious?"

"yeah, of course i am. i'd buy everything for you." dan heng says with the softest smile on his face you swear your heart just melted.

"thank you thank you thank you!" you say with a really happy tone and hugged him tightly. dan heng's eyes widened in surprise, but he returns the hug just as tight, a smile still on his face.

you swear you could hear a camera shutter, but thought nothing of it.

[brandyllyn]

Frostbite

Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. Words: 1.9k

For the #pedrostoriesgift24 Holiday Gift Exchange. @almostfoxglove asked for:

* max gets reader/character for their office's secret santa (or vice versa) * office christmas party

And y'all know I can't resist Max.

My Masterlist <- So much more Max stuff here y'all. I've missed him.

Rated: Teen Warnings: This is romantic and sweet and I make no apologies for that. Max being Max, however.

If you had to listen to George Michael complain one more time about what happened last Christmas, you were going to cause a scene.

Looking around the room, you took some small solace that no one else seemed to be having a good time either. Derek had taken up a post near the exit, obviously waiting until just enough time had passed that he could make a break for it. Malika was on her third hard cider - if she wasn’t careful she’d be the Monday morning gossip.

And the very next day, you gave it away…

You slip your phone from your pocket as surreptitiously as possible, checking the clock. Not even 6:30, there was still the speech from the CEO, the sales award, and of course the office secret Santa to get through before you could make your escape. They always saved secret Santa for last - everyone marching one by one to open their gift from the table in the center of the room. Showing everyone the mug they had been given.

It was always a mug.

The table looked extra sad this year - filled almost entirely with bags, half of which didn’t even have a festive spray of tissue. It was the laziest possible wrapping job. Nothing more clearly said ‘I put no thought into this’ than a dollar store bag, taped shut.

You had wrapped your gift. An oblong box with a festive red bow. Inside was a designer tie - one you had been lucky to find at a local thrift store. You had no idea if your giftee would like it, he ran so hot and cold you never could tell if he even liked you. Or anybody for that matter.

“Hey there sweet cheeks, looking for me?”

Speak of the devil.

“Never.”

He sidles up next to you, all long limbs and expensive cologne. His suit is perfect; crisp navy blue with a sparkly snowflake tie. As usual he stands too close, forcing you to shift slightly sideways to avoid brushing against him.

“You tease,” he pouts with a puffed out lower lip. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

Max Phillips, rising star of the sales department. Arrogant, conceited asshole and inveterate flirt. He was handsome too, which was honestly just annoying. If someone was going to be that obnoxious, they should at least look like half a roasted ham.

“I have it on good authority you don’t have one,” you point out.

He pats his chest for a moment, giving you a wounded look. “Stacey tell you that? Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“Miranda.”

He has the decency to hesitate, eyes darting across the room before back to you. “Well, someone had to be my shoulder to cry on.” You snort at that and he grins, shifting closer again and almost backing you to the wall. “And don’t worry about them, that’s business.”

You were pretty sure whatever that was you had walked in on in the copy room hadn’t been ‘business’ but you don’t point it out. Miranda hadn’t been the same, something viscerally off about her, ever since.

“You,” he leaned into you and you felt a cubicle wall at your back, “you would be nothing but pleasure wouldn’t you?”

“We are at work.”

“Most couples meet at work.”

“We’re not a couple.”

“We’re not a couple, yet.” He takes a deep breath and frowned. “You don’t take good care of yourself.”

“Excuse you?”

It came out close to a shriek, several heads turning your direction. Max gave them a dazzlingly wide smile and as one they smiled back. Even Richard, the grumpiest at the best of times, blushed. He blushed.

“You’re not eating right.”

By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. He wasn’t even looking at you, eyes scanning the room while he talked out of the corner of his mouth. “Dave is doing his speech,” you try to point out but Max gives you his attention long enough to roll his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, babydoll.”

“What subject?”

Max takes the proverbial shovel you offer. “You’re gaunt. You’re not getting the right vitamins.”

“From the man who has an ‘allergy’ to sunlight.”

The grin he gives you is wolfish. “That’s documented. I have a doctor’s note.” You can’t help the small smile and of course he notices. “There now, was that so hard? I’m being charming all over the place here.”

“Why?”

The word is a hiss of air and he blinks at you, confused. “What do you mean, why?”

“You’ve fucked half the office.” You try very hard to keep your tone too low for anyone else to hear. “Am I keeping you from bingo or something?”

Another one of those deep breaths and he leans in to you, so close you think he might actually nuzzle you. “I like you.”

You snort, turning away.

“I do.” He scans the room again before he turns, blocking your view with his wide shoulders. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“I said no.”

There’s silence for several heartbeats before he admits, “You intrigue me.”

“You’re a liar.”

“All the time,” he concedes. “But not right now. There’s something for my people, a knowing of sorts…”

He trails off and you can’t help but ask, “Your people? Wasps?”

“Something like that.”

“Max Phillips!” The call of his name comes from out of the blue.

“Gotta run, sugar tits, duty calls.”

Of course he’s won the sales award. He shakes the CEO’s hand while accepting the plaque, turning and smiling - not pausing for even a moment when he realizes no one is going to take his photo. It doesn’t stop him from playing mayor of the cubicle farm, waving at a few people before stepping to the side. You notice him looking at you and studiously avoid meeting his eyes.

The secret Santa starts and you take a quick tally of how many people participated this year. Even if half the people make a fuss about it, you should be able to leave in fifteen minutes - twenty tops.

Since Max won the award he gets to go first, picking up the box you had carefully wrapped and tearing into it with the gusto of a toddler. He fingers the silk and you swear his eyes dart to where you’re standing. 

There is no way he could know you’d bought it for him. No way.

“Looks like we may have a tie for best present.”

People laugh at his terrible joke and he steps to the side, letting the next person fetch their mug. You try to be surreptitious as you gauge his reaction. Does he like it? Does he think it’s tacky? With one hand he pulls off the one he’s wearing and loops the length of red silk around his collar, deftly tying a full Windsor.

It looks good on him.

Dammit.

Your name is called and you shake yourself out of your stupor, avoiding looking to the side. The present is in a bright orange bag - not even a holiday color - and stapled closed. You reach in and pull out the small bottle.

“Iron supplements.”

There’s a small scattering of applause and you stare at the offending object for so long the new HR lady has to gently move you aside. 

Iron supplements.

Your secret Santa got you fucking iron supplements.

“You don’t look happy.”

The tie you so carefully picked out mocks you. You put thought into his present - and your Santa did what? Clean out their medicine cabinet? You wouldn’t be surprised if the bottle was already open.

No, you were not happy. You were fuming.

“You look pale.”

“Shut up.”

“And you’ve been having headaches lately.”

“How would you know?”

“I told you, you intrigue me.”

Something clicks and you finally look up at him, bottle clenched in your fist. “This was you?”

“You’re anemic.”

He sounds so absurdly reasonable you barely resist the urge to kick him. “You are not my doctor.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

You don’t, not that he needs to know that.

“If you did they might tell you your iron count is dangerously low. You should get checked for an autoimmune disease.”

“I do not have an autoimmune disease.” Derek shoots you a surprised look and you give him a wide smile before jerking Max’s arm and pulling him into a supply closet. “This is not appropriate. On like a hundred levels.”

“Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” You shove a finger into his chest. “You may get other people to leap to your bidding but I’m not one of them.”

“I know,” he grins, “it’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” you repeat.

“Fantastic.” He’s faster that you expect, grabbing your wrist and flattening your palm to his chest. “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

He sounds genuinely concerned and you deflate, giving in. “I don’t have the money for fresh food. I’m living off ramen at the moment, okay? I’ll probably develop scurvy soon.”

“We pay you a decent amount - not what you’re worth, of course - but market value.”

You don’t bother asking how he knows that. “My ex took a loan out in my name. I’ve been paying it off.”

“Why isn’t he paying it off?”

“Because he’s an asshole and I can’t make him do anything.”

“Want me to kill him for you?”

It’s said so casually you almost think he means it. “It’s fine. It’s only another year. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to get rickets.”

“Isn’t that what Tiny Tim had?”

He nods. “Yes, and you’ll be begging for a Christmas bonus just like he did, too.”

“I think that was his dad.”

“Which one did Kermit play?”

You scoff, trying to pull your hand away from him. “Have you only ever seen the Muppet version of a Christmas Carol?”

He doesn’t let you go. “It’s the only one worth seeing.”

“Max,” you say softly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, for worrying about me. Even if this-” you hold up the supplements with your other hand “-is by far the worst gift I have ever gotten.”

He gifts you with that wide, easy smile of his. “Let me buy you dinner, to make up for it.”

“Sure you don’t already have a date?”

“I’d cancel any plans for you.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he was serious.

“Big words, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

He’s standing close, so close your chest brushes his when you take a breath. “Max…”

Tingles shoot to your fingertips as his lips capture yours. A rush of heat floods through you and you can’t help but moan when he sinks his fingers into the back of your neck. The sound he makes is close to a growl, his mouth opening and his tongue is suddenly there, licking at the seam of your lips.

Would it be wrong to climb him like a tree in the supply closet?

He apparently has the same idea, lifting you from underneath your ass with an ease that takes your breath away. Your back is pressed to the wire shelves and his hips settle between your thighs as though he’s always belonged there. Your neck arches into the palm of his hand and he nuzzles beneath your ear.

“Take your damn iron pills.”

“What?”

“Your iron,” his teeth scrape along your jaw, “and maybe a multi-vitamin too.”

You were going to slap him. Just soon as your head stopped spinning from his kiss.

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in @almostfoxglove once more. Hope you liked your Max.

[nubiawrites]

chapter eleven

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Alcohol. Oral Sex

Summary: Iriye and Aaron spend a soft Saturday together, enjoying one another before reaching another milestone in their relationship: their first outing as a couple.

Notes: I know this has been long overdue. But it was worth the wait. Longest chapter to date. And trust, I will be making up for how this chapter ends in the the next chapter. Think of this as the appetizer before the meal. let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST

“You do realize that’s the third sweet you have put into my cart, right,” Iriye eyed Aaron as he threw another box of cookies into the shopping cart. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love,” Aaron said, glasses and a baseball cap framing his beautiful face.

“You told me that I needed groceries, and I’m trying to make sure you have all the things you need to cook these meals for me,” Iriye feigned, moving to a shelf to inspect a few different boxes of rice.

“I’m on cooking duty now?” Aaron asked.

“Well, yes. You gotta earn your keep around my place,” Iriye hip-checked him. She found the rice she wanted and put it in the cart. 

“What other ways can I earn my keep?” Aaron raised an eyebrow suggestively to her. She felt him towering over her from behind and hummed, turning to face him.

“Well… there are kisses… touches… cuddles,” Iriye listed off. “And more but I don’t think I can say them in public,” 

Aaron leaned in to kiss her head, trailing his kiss down her nose and lips. Iriye moaning softly at the kiss, he pulled back but brought her close for a hug.

“Let’s finish this, love,” Aaron said. “Then we can get back home and cuddle,”

Iriye smiled, pushing the cart down the aisle as they gathered everything on Iriye's mental grocery list. She had Aaron reaching for a box of cereal she wanted, knowing he could grab it quickly when they heard a voice.

“Um… excuse me?” Iriye and Aaron turned toward the young woman and the guy she was with. “You’re Aaron Pierre, right? Can we get a picture?” The young woman asked.

“Sure,” Aaron said, the two fans’ smiles growing wider. “Separate or together?”

“Together. We don’t want to take up too much time,” The guy said with a smile. 

“I can take the picture for you guys,” Iriye spoke up. The girl eagerly handed her phone to Iriye and she opened the camera as Aaron stepped between them. Iriye snapped a few for them, smiling as she saw Aaron giving a few showing all thirty two teeth and then his signature half smirk. “I think those will do,” She handed the phone back to the girl.

“Thank you. I really loved you in Rebel Ridge,” The girl said, her friend agreeing.

“Thank you for watching,” Aaron thanked them. The fans gave a wave before they walked off, them smiling and whispering like little kids. “What?”

“I really loved you in Rebel Ridge,” She teased Aaron, poking his side. He playfully swatted her hand. “She definitely watched for the plot. And the plot was Nah…”

“You watched it?” Aaron raised a brow at her and Iriye scoffed playfully.

“Maybe,” Iriye went back to the shelf, trying to find something else.

“How many times?” Aaron asked. Iriye scoffed.

“That’s really big headed of you to think I watched it multiple times,” Iriye feigned her innocence. “But if I had to ball park it-“

“Ballpark it?” Aaron playfully rolled her eyes.

“I’ve watched it five times,” Iriye answered honestly. “For the plot, of course,” She began pushing the cart along.

“For the plot. That’s what the kids are saying,” Aaron joked. 

“You’re on thin ice, Mister Pierre,” Iriye chuckled as she headed into the next aisle.

After checking out and having to nearly snatch Aaron’s card from him so Iriye could pay for her groceries, they were back in his car, heading to her place.

“You know what I could go for right now?” Iriye said. “Ice coffee and a breakfast sandwich,”

“Eating out defeats the purpose of grocery shopping,” Aaron chuckled.

“But an iced soy latte with vanilla in it sounds so good right now,” Iriye said, giving her best pout. “Plus, I truly believe coffee tastes better when others make it,” 

Iriye watched Aaron contemplate it for a moment.

“You play your cards right, I might even get you a cup of tea. With milk and everything you like,” Iriye stated, pouting playfully.

“Fine, pull up the address,” He handed her his phone for navigation, and she smirked.

After grabbing their coffee and tea, Iriye got a little poundcake slice for herself. Since Aaron insisted he didn’t want any, they were in her apartment unpacking groceries when she caught him.

“You said you didn’t want any,” Iriye caught Aaron with his hand in her treat bag, pulling a piece of her pound cake.

“I was just taking a little bit,” Aaron moved to pop the piece of dessert in his mouth.

“You’re such a little liar,” She poked his chest, trying to get her dessert back. But he held it out of her reach. 

“Didn’t you say something about food tasting better when it was someone else’s?” Aaron raised a brow.

“I do not recall,” Iriye reached for it again, but Aaron pulled her closer. Iriye wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can I have it back?”

“Can I get a kiss?” Aaron pouted. Iriye playfully rolled her eyes before kissing him softly. His hands gripped her waist softly and she moaned. She pulled away before things got too heated.

“Okay, you got your kiss,” Iriye pulled back, and they continued unpacking the groceries. While putting up the rice she grabbed in her pantry, she realized one of her goddess locs had unraveled. “I am in dire need of taking these out and getting my hair done,”

Aaron came over and played with the unraveled piece of hair while Iriye grabbed her phone and began seeing when her hair stylist had an appointment open.

“You need help taking your hair down,” Aaron asked. Iriye looked up from her phone.

“Yes, I would love that,” Iriye said, smiling softly at him. 

“Go get started. I’ll finish the rest of this stuff,” Aaron said. Iriye went back over to him and kissed his cheek before playfully smacking his ass as he reached to put something up.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Aaron mocked as she entered her bathroom.

Iriye grabbed a plastic bag, two rattail combs and two pairs of scissors so she could cut the locs to make them easier to unravel and to get to the braid underneath them. 

Iriye came back into her bedroom and found Aaron sitting on her bed. He patted the spot in front of him and she sat in front of him. 

“I’m trusting you with my life right now, Mister Pierre. My hair in the braids is pretty long so cutting them might make me cry,” Iriye teased. “So I would say, cut here,” She went about showing him with her finger on one of her pieces of hair so he knew where to cut.

Iriye watched as Aaron made the first cut to her locs. He unraveled the hair around the braid, allowing him to take it out.

“Well look at that,” Iriye seeing the fineesee he had with taking out her braid.

“This ain’t my first rodeo, love,” He said, seeing her hair unleashed, playfully feeling the wavy pattern. “I would help my little sister when she was younger,”

“That’s sweet. Were you always helping with your siblings?”

“Yeah. The age gap between us kind of made me the ultimate big brother. Sometimes third parent. But my siblings, they’re everything to me,” Aaron said with a genuine smile.

“Sometimes I wish I had that. Siblings,” Iriye cut a few more of her brains. “Would have made the childhood lonliness better,”

“Your mom never thought to have more,” He asked.

“No. She said she was just good with me. The perfect child in a sense,” Iriye explained. “But I loved the summers I got to spend with my grandma. It made the loneliness bearable cause I got to be around my cousins and family,”

“You have a big extended family?” Aaron asked, loosening another braid and dropping it in the bag.

“I do. In North Carolina. I love going to the beaches there and such. I wanted a beach house there ever since I could remember,” Iriye stated.

“Do you want a big family of your own?” Iriye paused as she heard his question.

“I think I would. What about you?” She asked Aaron.

“I think I would too,” Aaron spoke. Iriye smiled to herself and cut another braid to unravel it. 

“Would you want to raise kids back in London or here?” Iriye questioned.

“London preferably. But I think it depends on what the mother of my children would want,” Aaron stated. “But I probably would argue living between London and the US. I have a house already there,”

“Oh you do,” Iriye stated. Aaron grabbed his phone and clicked through his photos to show it to her. Iriye took his phone and saw his place. “It’s beautiful,”

“I think you would like it,” Aaron stated shyly.

“I would love it, Aaron,” Iriye stated. “Cause it’s a part of you. And now I feel like a child compared to you. Homeownership. Very hot on you,” Aaron went to tickle her side, and she giggled, trying not to headbump him. 

“You gotta stop moving so I can finish your hair,” Aaron continued tickling Iriye, her laughter getting worse until a snort came out.

“Oh my god,” Iriye covered her mouth. 

“Hold on,” Aaron tried tickling her again, but Iriye swatted at his hand. “Ow!”

“I cannot believe you made me do that,” Iriye giggled, trying to calm herself down so as not to snort again.

“It was cute,” Aaron feigned.

“A snort is cute to you,” Iriye rolled her eyes. He pecked her cheek.

“Everything you do is cute,” Aaron said. Iriye bit her lip.

“Everything you do is cute, " Iriye quickly pecked his lips. Let me put something on so I can snort again for you.” She grabbed her remote and quickly found something on cable for them to watch.

Iriye settled on TNT so they could chat and loosen her hair. They took their time, and then Iriye and Aaron stopped to rest and watch The Mummy Two.

“I forgot how sexy the guys in this film are,” Iriye murmured as she shook out a section of her hair loosened, the textured waves from the braids hitting below her chin.

“Not young Brendan Fraser doing it for you,” Aaron teased.

“I was an Oded Fehr girlie, thank you very much. I had long hair and tattoos. Yes, sir. I would go anywhere with him,” she said. Did you have any crushes when you were younger?”

“There was Ashanti and Foxy Brown,” Aaron mentioned.

“Okay. So you’re telling me there’s a pattern of cute asses that you like,” Iriye teased.

“I wasn’t looking at them for that until I was in my teens. But I love their looks and how cool they were. Confident and sexy,” Aaron explained.

“Foxy was very sexy,” Iriye joked. “Ashanti still is. I’m jealous of her aging with grace,”

“You’re going to look amazing when you get older. I’ve seen your mom in photos around here,” Aaron stated.

“Don’t say that out loud. My mom has spidey senses. She’ll know if she’s been given a compliment. It’ll make her even more powerful,” Iriye chuckled. “And to be honest… I saw a picture of your dad at your place. I think I’ll be happy with how you turn out at his age,” 

Aaron paused while taking her hair out, and Iriye wondered if she had said something wrong. He helped her turn between his legs and looked at her.

“You’ll be with me when we’re much older still?” Aaron asked. Iriye bit her lip, trying to push down her fear and questions about him and her feelings.

“I hope so. If that’s alright with you,” Iriye said, looking at his hazel eyes, which she loved. God, she was down bad for him. He gave her a big smile.

“I think that’s just fine with me, but we have to have some ground rules,” He stated. He moved his hands to hers, rubbing over her knuckles.

“We kind of suck at establishing rules. Remember the lot,” Iriye chuckled.

“I remember everything about the lot,” Aaron said in a low voice, and she rolled her eyes playfully. “I think we need to establish some terms and agreements. So, one question I have for you… do you want to be with me?”

“Yes,” Iriye answered without a thought, Aaron’s eyebrow raising. 

“Now, before you answer too-”

“Yes, I want to be with you. I want you to be mine, Aaron. I want to be yours. I want to be your girl. Your girlfriend. Your pa-”

Aaron pulled Iriye in for a bruising kiss, her lips moving against his instinctively. Her hands crawled to the back of his neck and face. His hands settled on her hips, and she moaned softly against his lips. He pulled back for a moment and looked at her brown eyes.

“You want me to be your boyfriend,” Aaron asked her, his hand pushing back some of her hair in her face.

“Yes. Do you want to be my boyfriend,” Iriye replied.

“I do, love. I do,” He leaned in for another kiss, and she returned it. “We gotta finish your hair,”

A hour later, Aaron was cleaning up the leftover braids while Iriye went to shower and wash her hair. When she got out after her thorough wash routine, Iriye used her detangling brush and blow-dried her hair, giving her something to work with until she had to go to her hair appointment. 

Iriye finally returned to her room, a towel wrapped around her as she found some clothes. Aaron was on the bed, watching her as she got dressed.

“Whatcha staring at?” Iriye caught Aaron’s eyes as he looked at her, putting shorts on. 

“Just you,” Aaron caught how her breast sat, the softness of her belly. But it was guy hidden as Iriye found a shirt and put it on before she crawled up the bed and kissed him.

“I’m going to make us some lunch. Pick something for us to watch,” Iriye hopped back off the bed and went to the kitchen. She assembled some sandwiches for them and came back to hand one to Aaron. 

Aaron helped Iriye back onto the bed, her legs ending up across his lap as she cuddled up to him. They ate their food in silence while watching one of the Die Hard films. 

"We're really rotting in bed together," Aaron said, watching Iriye finish up a bit of her sandwich while her free hand was stroking his neck.

"We are. That's what boyfriends and girlfriends do. Besides... I really missed you this past week," Iriye admitted. Aaron moved both of their plates from out the way, turning to face her some.

"I missed you too, even when I was angry at you. I just... I wanted to feel like I was worthy of you. And you not telling Tamara made me feel like I was a secret. Like you were ashamed of me," Aaron stated. 

"I'm not. I was scared of this... How I feel about you. No one has ever made me feel the way you do," 

Aaron caressed Iriye's cheek, her looking at him with so much adoration.

"I'm sorry for making you feel like that," Iriye said, leaning in to kiss Aaron. He reciprocated, moving his lips in tandem.

"You drive me crazy, Iriye," Aaron mumbled against her lips. She moaned into the kiss and felt him pulling her closer. 

They continued making out slowly, body heat rising as shared moans left their body. His hand went to grip her backside and she whined. She straddled his hips, his hands moving to help rock her rock against him. Just as Aaron's hands slipped her shirt over head, a familiar ring from her phone came on.

"Don't answer," Aaron groaned as Iriye stopped rolling her hips against him.

"I have to. It's my mom. She probably finally heard the compliment you gave her," Iriye teased. She looked over at her phone and saw her mom wanted to join on facetime and she climbed off of Aaron, seeing the visible tent. "Give me five minutes and I swear, I'll ride the life out of your little friend,"

"Little friend?" Aaron raised a brow at her as Iriye grabbed her shirt to put it back on.

"It's little compared to the rest of you," Iriye shrugged. 

"Oh just for that, I'm withholding my little friend from you. Answer your mother," Aaron teased.

Iriye went into her living room and finally pressed the answer button on her screen.

"I almost put a missing person's alert out on you,” Iriye’s mom said with a smile through the phone. “You took your hair down?”

“Hey mom,” Iriye said. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about going MIA. I wasn’t feeling good. I finally have my land legs, so I’m getting myself together for the upcoming week.” 

“Aw baby. I’m sorry. You want me to send some soup?” Her mom asked.

“No, I got groceries and such, so I’ll be feeling better soon,” Iriye said.

“Good. Because we need to figure out when I’m coming to see you or when you’re coming to see me before you leave for London,” Iriye’s mom stated. “I’m guessing things are going alright with that boy,”

“Yeah, send me some dates.  What boy?” Iriye raised a brow.

“Sweetie, the tag of your shirt is showing,” Iriye looked down to see her shirt was inside out. “Let me not keep you too long. Be good,” Before Iriye could answer, her mom hung up the phone.

“Your mom caught onto us?” Aaron asked, already back in his clothes from the night before.

“Yes. It's a good thing I can take this off.” Iriye was about to take her shirt off again, but he stopped her.

“Our presence was requested by Tamara tonight. She said game night is happening,”

“She didn’t text me,” 

“She called me. I figured we were together. " Aaron’s smile was enough to make Iriye stand on her tippy toes and kiss his chin before he leaned down for her lips.

“I gotta go and get some clothes,” Aaron said against her lips.

“I know,” Iriye pulled away with a hum. “I’ll come pick you,”

“You’re going to pick me up like a perfect girlfriend?” Iriye felt her cheeks warm at Aaron calling her his girlfriend.

“Yes, boyfriend,” Iriye leaned up for one more kiss, and Aaron returned it, humming against her lips. His hand slid down to her ass, and she moaned. But she pulled away. “You gotta go. We don’t have a lot of time, and Tamara is serious when it comes to starting the game night on time,”

Aaron kissed her lips once more before he left. Iriye decided it was time to stop goofing off and get ready. 

After another round with her flat iron and putting herself together, Iriye rolled up to Aaron’s place and texted him when she parked. She waited a few minutes before hearing the passenger side door of her car open.

“Oh, this is nice.” Iriye turned from applying her lip gloss to see a much shorter man she recognized from pictures with Aaron.

“Kel,” Aaron popped up behind his friend.

“My bad. My bad. I’m Kelvin. This is nice. I’m not going to need all this room, though,” Kelvin began adjusting the passenger seat.

“Hi!” Iriye said with a polite smile, looking at Aaron, who shrugged. “Nice to meet you Kelvin,” 

“Hey, love,” Aaron slipped into the backseat. Iriye tried not to laugh as she saw him make himself comfortable.

“You need more space back there?” Aaron shook his head no.

“He’s fine. He acts like he’s six foot five,” Kelvin stated.

“I know, right,” Iriye chimed in.

“Hey!” Aaron stated.

“See, I knew I was going to like her. He said you were a writer in our text messages but not a comedy writer,” Kelvin said to Iriye.

“Oh, you two talk about me,” Iriye asked.

“Sometimes,” Aaron stated.

“Don’t be coy now. I’m glad you two worked it out. I made the Ariye shirts, damn it, and I spent a good amount on them.” Kelvin said back to Aaron.

“Well, they won’t go to waste. I’ll take three, at least. Y’all buckle up,” Iriye said, knowing tonight would be fun with the added company.

Iriye stopped at a store near Tamara’s place, not wanting to come empty-handed. Luckily, Kelvin offered to grab something for them, leaving her alone with Aaron.

“I’m sorry, but I forgot he offered to play Mario Kart with me tonight,” Aaron said, leaning between the front seats.

“It’s okay. The more the merrier,” Iriye leaned in to kiss Aaron. “He hasn’t said anything too crazy plus I think he’ll be an asset to game night when it comes to Taboo. Doesn’t he have a girlfriend he could have brought,”

“Yes, but I’m not sure what’s going on. Maybe he needs a night with new people,” Aaron shrugged. 

“Well,” Iriye playfully pulled at Aaron’s collar. “Tell him he’s gonna need to take an Uber home later tonight,”

“Yes ma’am,” Aaron kissed her again, them making out a little between the seats. They pulled apart when Kelvin returned to the car with a big bag.

“You’re truly showing what you bring to game night,” Iriye told Kelvin once he got in.

Iriye, Aaron, and Kelvin made it to Tamara’s apartment in record time. Cece opened the door with shots in hand. 

“You and your guests have to pay the toll,” Cece stated. Kelvin, Aaron, and Iriye took their shots as they entered the door. 

“Don’t feel peer pressured to drink when she says drink. Cece can be a bully if you let her,” Iriye joked before Cece hip-checked her.

“It’s game night rules,” Cece said as she led them further into the apartment.

“Everyone, this is Kelvin,” Aaron said aloud, hugging Tamara when she came by.

Iriye had already seen a few people from their inner circle here but was surprised when she saw Vivian sitting on the couch. Vivian hopped up when she saw Aaron and made her way to hug him.

“I can’t believe you made it,” Aaron stated when he pulled back from Vivian.

“I don’t get invited to many game nights,” Vivian stated, looking at Iriye as she came beside Aaron. “You two rode together,”

“Yeah, we did,” Aaron said, slinking his arm around Iriye, but she eventually moved her arm around his waist.

“Kelvin came too. So it’s a party,” Iriye stated. Vivian raised her eyebrow at the two holding each other.

“Y’all are very cute,” Iriye tried to read if Vivian was acting or being serious. “I haven’t seen Kelvin in forever. Dan is gonna be so happy he’s here. They did a short film together years ago,”

“You brought your baby daddy?” Aaron joked, Vivian playfully smacking his arm.

“He thinks he’s so funny,” Vivian said before heading to the kitchen.

“Wait… she has…” Iriye asked Aaron quietly.

“A boyfriend? Yes. So you can stop sending her daggers,” Aaron whispered.

“I don’t send her daggers,” Iriye stated.

“Ow, send them back her way,” Aaron teased. Iriye and Aaron found a spot on the couch. Tamara came out with some more card games before sitting by Iriye.

“I see you two are making yourselves at home,” Tamara said.

“We are,” Aaron stated, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Tamara sent Iriye a look.

“Aaron,” Iriye said. “Can you get me some snacks? Tamara wants me to tell her the deets about us,”

“I always miss out on the hot gossip,” Aaron playfully rolled his eyes before kissing Iriye’s cheek. “You want anything, Tamara?”

“Anything that will keep you away for at least five minutes,” Tamara said with a grin.

“Got you,” Aaron got off the couch, Tamara making herself more comfortable once he was gone.

“So…” Tamara stated.

“I’m a girlfriend now,” Iriye stated. “I’m no longer for the streets. Those days are done,”

“I feel like a proud mama,” Tamara said, wiping fake tears.

“Haha,” Iriye said, glancing at Kelvin, Vivian, and Aaron chatting in the kitchen. “I’m just glad I didn’t screw it up, you know,” 

“You won’t. If you want this, it’s work, and I can tell you’re willing to do it,” Tamara admitted.

“Thanks, Tam,” Iriye pulled Tamara in for a side hug. 

Nelly came off the balcony, phone in hand. Although she was slightly agitated, she was still put together.

“Well, there goes my game partner,” Nelly stated. “DJ is out,”

“And now the taboo queen’s crown is up for grabs,” Iriye spoke, feigning, putting a crown on herself.

“Watch yourself. I can do this game all by myself,” Nelly stated.

Cece returned with the rest of the kitchen crew, and a man she assumed was Dan approached Vivian to kiss her hand.

“We got uneven numbers. DJ left Nelly hanging,” Tamara called out. 

“Well, why don’t Kelvin sub in for DJ for Taboo? Nelly, you can swing that,” Iriye stated, a twinkle in her eye in the hope of winning Taboo. 

“Kel is the king of Taboo,” Aaron swung an arm around his shorter counterpart’s shoulder.

“That’s exactly what you say when you give someone the worst taboo player,” Nelly replied.

“Okay short stuff,” Kelvin shot back.

“You’re shorter than me,” Nelly crossed her arms.

“We’re the same height,” Kelvin stated.

“Children, team up,” Tamara said, moving to sit by Cece. Everyone found their spot, leaving Nelly and Kelvin by each other.

“You mess up my winning streak and it’s lights out for you,” Nelly demanded.

“Nelly, you just met him!” Iriye shot back at her, even if she was grinning.

“You promise,” Kelvin dared.

“What is going on?” Tamara stated.

The game night started promptly on time, with a few first games serving as warm-ups for the different pairings. Iriye and Aaron quickly figured out that when it came to trivia, they were a pair, washing the rest of the group with their knowledge combined.

“There is no way you know exactly how many books are in the biggest library in the world?” Vivian asked, surprised.

“Um yeah,” Iriye and Aaron answered in sync.

“Oh my god, they’re melding together,” Kelvin playfully rolled his eyes.

“Stop focusing on them and focus on your answers,” Nelly stated.

A quick game of Jenga on the patio was having Iriye bring out all the big guns, Iriye trying to give complicated movements for simple pieces.

“Babe, I don’t think it’s going to work,” Aaron stated as Iriye was kneeling, tapping one of the bigger blocks out of a spot on the tower.

“Let the woman do what she wants,” Cece yelled back at Aaron.

“Now you’re gassing her up to watch her fail,” Aaron stated.

“You think I’m going to fail?” Iriye asked with a cute pout.

“Not at all baby,” Aaron stated.

“Not the pet names,” Nelly said with a laugh. “They’re so cute,”

“I know right,” Vivian stated.

“The cutest,” Kelvin chipped in.

“You just ruined it,” Nelly brought her drink to her lips.

Just as Iriye tapped the block out, the tower began wiggling, and Aaron instinctively put his hand on it to balance it.

“That’s cheating!” Tamara exclaimed.

“I was checking the infrastructure,” Aaron said, stepping away.

“Aw baby, you were going to cheat for me,” Iriye hummed, even if the tower wiggled and fell. 

When it came to a mini Spades tournament, Dan and Vivian were making everyone have a run for their money.

“Nah, someone’s cheating,” Aaron stated as he saw Dan and Vivian cheer themselves to victory against him and Iriye.

“Not at all, man. You two keep reneging,” Dan said as he and Vivian had another book.

“I trained him well. My family does not play when it comes to spades. The first two skills we learn growing up. Walking and spades,” Vivian answered. 

“How are you going to learn spades before talking,” Aaron asked.

“Aaron, focus,” Iriye shot him a look. She laid down her card, but then Vivian and Aaron showed up, disrupting her flow. “Oh my god!”

“Aaron, have you ever actually played Spades,” Cece asked.

“I have,” Aaron stated.

“Are you sure?” Cece replied.

The group decided to take a break before the last game of the night came up: Taboo.

“Okay, I know I sucked at Spades, but I promise Taboo, I can win at it,” Aaron said as he and Iriye were snacking in the kitchen. A knock sounded at the front door, and Cece got up to get it.

“You may not have been great at Spades, but you were adorable while trying," Iriye said, leaning in to kiss Aaron’s lips gently. His hand went to her cheek and kissed her again.

“Well damn, you all started without me,” Iriye heard Jay say as he pulled back to see Jay walk into the room holding a bag of his own snacks.

“I thought you said you couldn’t make it,” Tamara said, hugging Jay while shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder to Iriye.

“My date ended nicely,” Jay said before moving to the kitchen. Aaron didn’t make any move to let Iriye go when Jay entered. And he was happy when Iriye didn’t move either.

“Hey Jay,” Iriye stated.

“Hey, Iriye.” They hugged before Jay extended his hand for Aaron to dap. Aaron responded by returning the gesture. Iriye was doing her best to relax, uncertain of Aaron's feelings. He was all that mattered to her at that moment.

“I’m glad you got the game night invite,” Jay told Aaron. “They running you wild around here?” Iriye could tell he was a little tipsy from his date.

“They’re trying to but I can hold my own,” Aaron stated. Jay poured himself another drink. 

“Well, cheers to that,” Jay raised his drink before taking a sip and heading out of the kitchen.

“You good,” Aaron whispered. 

“I’m fine. Jay… gets competitive when it’s game night and he’s tipsy,” Iriye stated. “He’s a little bit of a shit talker. That’s all,” 

“We can go at any time,” Aaron stated. “I’ll yolk Kelvin up if I need to,”

“It’s fine. We’ll be fine,” Iriye calmed Aaron, even if she was trying to calm herself more. “And I think Nelly would kill us if we pulled her partner,” They both turned to see how Nelly was in her big sister general mode as Kelvin sipped his drink.

“They are the same height,” Aaron stated.

The group reconvened, and Tamara tried to figure out which group to put Jay with before settling on her and Cece’s.

The game was going well, and Iriye focused on Aaron, rubbing her back as they watched the others take their turns. When it was their turn, Aaron took the lead, and Jay came up to buzz him if he messed up.

“Once again, the British are going to lose,” Nelly said, Kelvin booing playfully.

“You got this babe,” Iriye said. “We’re locked in,”

Cece tipped over the hourglass and began firing off the terms on the card. Iriye caught them quickly, much to Jay’s dismay.

A honk was put right in near Aaron’s face and he paused. 

“Okay, I got it the first time,” Aaron said, sending Jay a look.

“You sure?” Jay stated. 

“Next card,” Iriye tried to get Aaron and Jay to move on. Aaron moved on to the next clue, and Jay chuckled as Iriye struggled.

“Need to phone a friend?” Jay asked.

“Skip the card,” Aaron dropped it.

“Jay, you want a drink?” Cece asked, trying to diffuse the situation.

“I think he’s had enough,” Aaron said.

“Wanna say that again?” Jay repeated.

“I think you had enough, brother,” Aaron repeated.

“Guys,” Iriye spoke up.

“You don’t need to bud in,” Jay stated.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Aaron demanded.

“I’ll talk to her how I like,” Jay stated.

“That’s enough,” Iriye got up. “I need some air,” Iriye pulled Aaron away to go to the balcony.

“There goes Iriye, controlling everything,” Jay shot after her.

“Jay, you had a bit too much,” Iriye shot back before Aaron pulled her outside.

“You okay,” Iriye asked, rubbing Aaron’s arm and trying to calm him down. 

“I’m good, are you?” Aaron said. “I don’t like how he talked to you,”

“I don’t like how he talked to you either,” Iriye repeated. “He’s just being an ass,” 

“I don’t think he’s over you,” Aaron admitted.

“Well I’m over him,” Iriye moved to cup his cheeks. “You want to head out?”

“We were just about to win,” Aaron sighed.

“Babe, we were behind. Let Nelly have that win,” Iriye said.

Iriye and Aaron made their way back into the apartment, Cece switching up the game as Vivian and Dan were packing up.

“Tamara packed ole boy up in an Uber,” Kelvin said, popping a snack in his mouth.

“But safe to say, Queen Nelly still reigns supreme,” Nelly said, holding her hand up for a high five to Kelvin.

“Well, I think we’re calling it a night,” Aaron said, taking Iriye’s hand.

“Take some snacks at least,” Cece called after them. Iriye pulled away to go to the kitchen and saw Vivian packing up a plate.

“Hey, you okay?” Vivian asked Iriye.

“I’m fine. It’s just some ex-drama. Nothing I can’t handle,” Iriye shrugged.

“Well, it seems like he couldn’t handle you,” Vivian stated.

“Something like that,” Iriye said. “I think I owe you an apology,”

“For what?” Vivian questioned.

“I uh… I kind of had my doubts about you,”

“I know. Most do,” Vivian stated. “And I think the kiss was a bit too much for my screen test,” 

“I mean…” Iriye said. “It was for the first film, and you wanted the role,”

“I want you to know I’m not competition or anything to you. Aaron really cares for you, and as someone who doesn’t have a lot of people I trust in this industry, I trust him and you. I mean, I don’t get many invites to hang out like this, and I really appreciate them,” Vivian admitted, and Iriye felt her heart softening for the girl. Iriye hugged Vivian before grabbing one of the last sliders for her own plate.

Iriye let Aaron drive her car home, the comfortable silence filled with Iriye’s growing anxiety.

“Penny for your thoughts, love?” Aaron asked her, his hand on her knee, caressing it. 

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Iriye pouted. 

“The night ain’t necessarily over,” He said, his finger trailing up her thigh. 

“It’s like that,” Iriye said, trying to focus.

“It is. Don’t let one asshole ruin your night,” Aaron’s hand trailed further up her thigh, and Iriye bit her lip, letting her legs fall further apart. His hand trailed up her thigh, getting to the apex of her thighs.

“Focus on the road,” Iriye bit her lip, even if she wasn’t stopping him. He slipped his hand from her thigh and kissed her hand.

When they finally reached her place, Iriye tried to focus on getting through the door, but Aaron’s hands trailed all over her body.

“You’re trying to give my neighbors a show,” Iriye whined as he kissed her neck, getting them into her apartment.

“I might have been,” Aaron said, shutting her door behind them. Iriye moved to kick her shoes off, his hand getting under her skirt as their lips met.

“The bedroom,” Iriye moaned.

“Too far away,” Aaron replied, shrugging his jacket off. “Take your panties off,” His voice was gruff and full of demand. Iriye didn’t think twice, shifting her panties from beneath her skirt. “Now, my belt,”

Seeing the smirk, Aaron wore as Iriye got his belt off and began unbuttoning his pants just turned her on even more.

“Who told you get to do that,” Aaron questioned. Iriye replied by slipping her hand into his boxers, but he caught her, pulling it back and against the wall.

“You got a lot of energy there,” Iriye chuckled, but she felt Aaron grip her chin, tilting her to look at him.

“I do for you. But you keep playing around and not going to get it,” Aaron stated. 

“I’m not playing around… I need you,” Iriye tugged him close, but Aaron pushed her back into the wall, and she let out a little huff.  “Aaron…”

“Good, you know my name. That’s the only thing you’ll be able to say when I’m done,” Aaron stated. “Hands against the wall… you touch me, and I promise you won’t get to cum tonight. Understand?”

“Understood,” Iriye could see the wild look in Aaron’s eyes as he dropped to his knees, his head under her skirt, and Iriye tried her best not to fall to her knees for this man as she began crying out into the night.

@wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[daydreamgoddess14]

💫 For Your Consideration - Act 4 - Part 1 💫

actor!Bucky x fem!actress!Reader (no use of y/n, l/n, reader is not described in any great detail. I save that for the gowns 💃)

Warnings: Hollywood AU, language, internet nasties, flirty!Bucky, a little power imbalance, age-gap (Bucky is around 40, actress reader is closer to 30 or younger if you prefer 🤭)... more to be added later.

Bucky Barnes, the suave and talented leading man of the 'Winter Soldier' movie series, finds himself on the red carpet circuit during awards season with his latest film 'The Howling Commandos'. But the season takes an unexpected turn when he crosses paths with a mesmerizing newcomer - the actress who has become the talk of Tinseltown with her captivating performance in her most recent film. Sparks fly as they navigate silly season in Hollywood, with a spotlight on their every move will their chemistry ignite a real life romance?

Yes guys, we've reached the bit where my chapters get a bit too long & I had to split the chapter 🤭 Because of the images, I tried to keep the word count to a manageable 6.3k.

If you've been reading this so far and commenting or reblogging, thank you so so much. Honestly, I'm having a blast working on this one, coming up with the ideas for media, the storyline itself... this one's a real treat for me so I'm so grateful you like it too! Feel free to come and talk to me about it, my inbox is always open 💕

Tagging: @winchestert101

< Prev Act | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Next Act >

DECEMBER 2025

You’d turned off notifications for everything except your dad.

Instagram. Twitter. TikTok. Even the group chat.

Every time you opened your phone, it was another headline. Another screenshot. Another “did you see this edit?”

You’d watched the interview back once, and only once, before burying your face in a pillow and groaning so loud the neighbors probably heard.

The chaos didn't seem to be dropping off at all.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like the attention. It was just…

You didn’t know what he thought.

And that uncertainty was deafening.

You were on your third cup of tea that day, curled in a hoodie that smelled faintly like your stage dressing room, when your phone buzzed.

You expected more noise. Another trending topic. Another edit.

What you didn’t expect... was him.

The only person other than your dad that you hadn't muted, because you had no reason to.

Because you had no reason to expect a message from him.

You stared at the message.

Then you stared some more.

What…?

You reread the message five more times.

There was no way he meant that for you.

There had to be someone else he'd meant to message instead.

Your stomach did a backflip, and not in a good way.

You almost didn’t reply. Almost just locked your phone and pretended it never happened.

But then your fingers moved faster than your fear.

…. did you mean to send me that?

You tossed your phone onto the bed like it was a grenade, and paced your flat.

This had to be a mistake. Right?

He’d seen the chaos, the memes, the speculation. He probably wanted to clarify something. Do damage control. Set boundaries.

Tell the world to fuck off…

Another buzz.

It was real.

Oh.

Oh.

You sank onto the edge of the mattress.

He wasn’t doing damage control.

He was asking you to get coffee.

Your hands trembled as you typed back.

And then you dropped it in the group chat.

You got there ten minutes early.

Which meant you’d already walked up and down the street twice, circling Borough Market like it was a reconnaissance mission and not a desperate attempt to look like you weren’t desperate.

The weather was grey and brisk, not fully committed to the depths of winter just yet, but definitely on board with the festive season.

You clutched your scarf like a lifeline, eyes flicking over every passing face. Tourists. Shoppers. Locals. No him.

You checked your phone.

Nothing.

It was fine. You were fine. If anything, this was a good thing. Gave you time to breathe. To remind yourself not to read into anything. It was just coffee. Just two people who’d done an interview and -

“Hey.”

“Oh, shit!” You jumped.

He was standing right in front of you, dressed like someone trying not to be recognized, hoodie, sunglasses, coat zipped high.

And yet now you were looking, it was unmistakably him.

“Oh my God. I didn’t even see you.”

He smiled, tugging down his hood slightly. “That’s the idea.”

You stared at him for a second too long before catching yourself. “Right. Incognito.”

“Stealthy,” he teased, eyes crinkling with that quietly smug charm.

God.

You were in trouble.

You fell into step beside him, the rhythm surprisingly easy, like you’d done this a hundred times before.

“So, you're in London,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I am, for a few days,” he nodded.

You glanced over at him. “Did you, uh… happen to notice the internet melting down after the interview aired?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Kind of hard to miss when your friends won’t stop sending you edited fancams set to Taylor Swift.”

“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “I’ve seen those. There’s one where they slowed down the hug and put a Hozier track under it. It’s so embarrassing.”

He bumped your shoulder, grinning. “I liked that one. Got your good side.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to.”

There was a moment of silence, not awkward, charged, maybe as you stepped in front of him to move single file through a busy section.

Then he added, quietly from behind you, “Didn’t hate it, though. All the noise. Not if it gave me an excuse to talk to you again.”

You were glad he couldn't see your face.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, gesturing at the rows of stalls. “Pastries? Cheese? Some questionable fusion street food?”

You glanced around, grateful for something else to focus on besides the steady thrum of nerves in your chest. “Questionable? Some of the best food in the city is made here. And, yes, you should try these -” You spotted your favourite bakery stall and waved at the owner.

“Hey Jan, two of the cinnamon please,”

“You're back, love, how's it been going?” The older woman cooed.

“Busy, so busy,” you handed over a fiver and took the paper bag from her, passing it behind to Bucky.

He grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

“If I don't see you before, Jan, have a lovely Christmas,” you beamed as she blew you a kiss and moved on to the next customer.

You paused at another stall selling fresh coffee, the scent practically illegal. He bought two, handed you one without asking, and continued walking like this was… normal. Like this was just how things went with you two.

“Still think you messaged the wrong person,” you mumbled around a bite, motioning vaguely with the pastry. “I read it at least five times before I believed it.”

Bucky shot you a look. “I meant to message you.”

“Sure you didn’t, like, panic and message the only person you know in London, or something?”

He laughed, and you felt the sound somewhere uncomfortably deep in your stomach. “Nope. Fully intentional. Which… might’ve been dumb.”

You looked up at him. “Why dumb?”

He hesitated just long enough for your heart to stutter.

“Because now I want to keep messaging you,” he said simply.

And just like that, Borough Market disappeared for a second.

You were halfway through your cinnamon bun when Bucky veered off course without a word, slipping away to help a flustered dad carry a buggy up the steps by Southwark Cathedral.

You watched him rejoin you, brushing his hands off as if helping strangers mid-date was standard practice.

“You’re really on the charm offensive, huh?”

He glanced at you, brow raised. “It working?”

You gave a little shrug, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Guess I’ll keep it up, then.”

There was a moment, easy and warm, and then you added, “you do realise you’re setting the bar pretty high for any future coffee dates, right?”

He grinned, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not planning on sharing my pastries with anyone else.” He leaned in just slightly, voice warm. “Besides, I’ve got to earn a second coffee somehow.”

He gave you a look, playful, but lingering just long enough to make your breath catch.

Just then, a loud group of tourists rounded the corner, jostling through the narrow walkway between stalls. Without thinking, Bucky reached for your elbow, guiding you in closer as the crowd passed.

Your shoulder brushed his chest, his hand warm and steady against your arm. You could smell cinnamon and the faintest trace of his cologne, something subtle, expensive.

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing.

And how much you didn’t mind.

Bucky nudged your shoulder lightly with his. “You’ve gone quiet on me. That cinnamon bun wasn’t that good.”

You gave a half-laugh, still watching the crowd. “I was just thinking… in a few months, this will all be over.”

He frowned. “The awards stuff?”

You nodded. “The buzz. The interviews. The... whatever this is,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the space between you.

He frowned. “You think it all just… ends?”

“Of course it does,” you said with a small smile. “Eventually I’ll be back doing eight shows a week somewhere. Maybe I’ll get a West End run if I’m lucky. And someone might go ‘oh, isn’t she the one from that film?’ And then…” You shrugged. “They’ll forget.”

You took a step back and carried on walking, but he didn't join you immediately.

He was quiet for a minute too long, until you turned and found his eyes fixed on you, serious, searching, still frowning.

“You really think that’s how this goes?”

You smiled again, soft this time, and shrugged, “how many actors have been to the Oscars and then disappeared?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t say anything. Just fell into step beside you again, quiet for a stretch as your words hung between you like fog. You wondered if he was trying to think of something reassuring to say. Something practical. But when he finally did speak, his voice was low and thoughtful.

“I don’t think I could forget you if I tried.”

You turned your head, surprised, a flutter kicking up in your chest.

He gave a small, lopsided smile, gaze forward again like he hadn’t just shifted something huge between you.

Your cheeks flushed despite the chill in the air. He glanced down at you, a spark of something warm flickering in his eyes.

The crowd thickened again ahead, breaking the moment.

You found a quieter nook between stalls, the hum of the crowd dimmed just enough to breathe.

You lingered there for a minute, the sounds of the market washing around you, muffled and distant.

He didn’t say anything more, but the silence between you wasn’t awkward, it was waiting.

Eventually, you tipped your head toward a nearby stall. “C’mon,” you said, voice low. “Let me get you something more festive than a coffee.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Trying to butter me up with wine now?”

You smiled. “Trying to stop you looking at me like that without a drink in my hand.”

He let that one slide with a smirk, following you without protest.

You left him to find a spare table amongst the Christmas shoppers and on your return, handed him a steaming cup of mulled wine. He accepted it with a quiet thanks, his fingers brushing yours, warm and steady.

“Do you always go this incognito?” you asked, watching the way he scanned the crowd even now, like he was still half on alert.

“Old habit,” he said. “Too many premieres and press lines. It sticks.”

You nodded, sipping slowly. “You don’t like it much, do you?”

He glanced at you, eyes thoughtful. “The work, I love. The rest of it? Not really built for that part.”

“You seem like you handle it fine.”

“That’s the trick,” he said, mouth curving slightly. “If you do it just well enough, they stop asking you to do more.” He shifted a little, his knees bumping yours under the table.

You tilted your head. “Is that the plan? Stay just under the radar?”

He gave a soft huff of laughter, looking down into his cup. “Something like that.”

A pause passed between you. Comfortable. Curious.

Tethered by something neither of you had quite named yet.

“You surprised me, you know,” you said, voice light, almost teasing.

That drew his eyes back to yours, sharp and curious. “Yeah?”

You tapped your fingers against your mug of steaming wine, the nerves buzzing somewhere deep under your skin. "I figured after the interview chaos, I'd be the last person you'd want to see. I definitely didn't think you'd... reach out."

He chuckled, low and rough, and leaned in a little across the table. His knee bumped yours under the table again, lingering this time. "Guess you’re just worth the chaos."

That earned him a grin, which he answered with a wicked one of his own.

You ducked your head, pretending to focus on your drink, but you felt the heat of his stare, heavy and warm. When you dared to glance up, his gaze had flicked, just briefly, to your mouth.

Your breath caught, you swallowed nervously.

The hum of the market faded away for a second, like the two of you existed inside a bubble.

“You know the internet thinks you're some kind of recluse?” You said, hoping to buy yourself a second to avoid doing something reckless.

He smirked, slow and devastating. "Better not tell them about this, then."

“And you don't date…”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I’ve dated,” he said eventually. “Just... never liked sharing it with the world. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

You nodded, quiet for a moment.

“That makes sense,” you said softly. “The more people watching, the less of it you get to keep.”

He looked at you then, like he hadn’t expected you to get it, not really.

You finished the wine and took the mugs back to the counter. You walked a little slower after the stop off. Neither of you said as much, but you certainly didn't quite want the day to be done.

The crowd thinned as you neared the river, your footsteps falling in sync again, closer now. A few brushes of your shoulders. A stolen glance. Eventually, the shimmer of station lights came into view. It felt too soon.

At the edge of the station, the two of you hovered at the line between stay and go.

“I’m really glad you messaged,” you said, eyes on him now, not hiding it.

His lips curved, slow and deliberate. “I kept thinking about what I’d say if I did. It wasn’t my smoothest opener.”

You laughed, the sound softer this time. “No, but it worked.”

A breath passed between you, light but charged.

“I had fun,” you said honestly, your hand brushing his as you reached up to adjust your scarf.

He caught your gaze, lingering now. “Me too. I was hoping I would. But you sort of blew that expectation out of the water.”

Your heart tripped a little.

You stepped back a half-step. “Well. I guess… I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

The promise in his voice made you smile as he dipped his head, just a little, and turned into the crowd.

And somehow, despite the chaos of the last week… you felt lighter.

You didn’t know where this was going.

But you wanted to find out.

You watched him go, the crowd swallowing him up one careful step at a time.

Just as you turned to leave, a thought caught you, sudden, sharp.

“Oh, and good luck tomorrow!” you called after him, unsure if he heard it, but saying it anyway.

A second later, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Thanks, doll. You too.

And just like that, you were smiling all over again.

He should’ve known coffee wouldn’t be enough.

He’d told himself it was just a catch-up. Just a friendly hello. Just a way to say thanks for not making that interview awkward as hell and maybe a kudos for handling the following shitstorm like a pro.

But then she smiled at him like that. Laughed at his dryest jokes. Got flustered when he held eye contact too long. Teased him like they’d met more than just once.

And that was the moment he was screwed.

She’d tucked her scarf tighter against her neck, one hand balancing her takeaway cup, the other brushing his arm when they walked too close.

It wasn’t even deliberate.

That was what made it worse.

Or better.

He wasn’t sure yet.

Borough Market had been a blur, busy and loud, festive and chaotic, but she made it feel almost quiet. Like it was just the two of them weaving between the stalls.

She didn’t seem to mind the chaos.

Didn’t flinch at the attention.

Didn’t even seem to notice the camera phone or two he’d spotted. Or maybe she had, and just chose not to care. That was the part that stuck with him, she didn’t perform.

He’d expected the goodbye to be awkward. A vague see-you-around, maybe a polite nod.

But instead, she’d looked up at him like she didn’t want it to be over either.

And when she called out after him in the station, her voice clear and sure over the crowd, just to say good luck, he’d nearly turned back just to see her smile again.

And now here he was, back in his hotel room, coat still on, replaying every second like a damn teenager.

He’d been surprised when her message came through, he'd barely been in the room a minute.

He stared at it a second longer than he meant to, thumb hovering.

Then he replied.

Simple. Measured. Safer than I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you walked away.

Her teasing reply came quickly and he let her have the last word.

He set the phone down, stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t date. Didn’t do flirty message threads or smile at his screen like an idiot.

But there she was. Unbothered, funny, warm, and making him do all of those things.

He still wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing.

And for the first time in a long time… he didn’t mind.

Nominations were a thing other people got.

He never used to care about mornings like this, he never had any reason to. His movies occasionally showed up in stunt or FX categories. There were no expectations or disappointments.

But this morning?

He was watching his phone like a hawk.

The Critics Choice. The Globes.

Announced on the same day, and right as he needed to leave for the airport.

He watched the rain on the taxi window, forcing himself to stop waiting for it to ring.

It vibrated in his hand before the sound rang out.

“Sam?”

“Bro, you did it.”

He could hear it in Sam’s voice - that slightly stunned pride, like he’d been holding his breath for Bucky even if Bucky hadn’t asked him to.

“Globes and Critics. Best actor. Best film. Yelena’s up for Director at the Globes -"

“Not Critics?”

“Nah, man. That last spot went to the Cabaret director.”

“Shit.” He breathed, “holy shit.”

“I know,” Sam said, laughter threading through his words now. “It’s crazy. I’m proud of you, man. It’s all happening.”

Bucky felt something catch in his throat. “Thanks. I… yeah.” He exhaled. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Look, get your flight, get some rest. I’ll send you the links.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Congratulations, man. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Sam rang off and the phone sat idly in Bucky's lap.

It lit up with the links Sam had promised.

He opened the Golden Globes one first.

His name.

In a bolded list, alongside people he’d admired for years. Best Actor in a Drama.

His film. Best Picture.

Then he saw hers. Just underneath.

Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical.

His heart gave a weird, full sort of jolt.

He wasn’t surprised - she was so good, everyone had seen it, but seeing it there in print made something in him go still.

She deserved this.

She belonged here.

He was proud. Maybe a little awestruck.

And without thinking, he opened their messages.

Maybe it was the way her laugh still echoed in his head… That coffee date hadn’t just stuck with him, it had dug in.

The way she’d smiled up at him over her cup, that flutter of nerves she’d tried to hide, the way she’d lit up when he called her talented.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Or her.

Congratulations on the nomination, sweetheart. I told ya.

He waited maybe half a minute before locking his phone and tossing it on top of his bag like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t listening for it to buzz again.

It did. With messages from Yelena, from Joaquin… even a begrudging congratulations from John.

But her reply was the one he went to first.

A purple heart. He stared at it longer than he should’ve.

Then she sent a follow-up, bright and warm, something in his chest tightened. She made it easy. Too easy.

It wasn’t flirting. Not exactly. But it had that hum beneath it, the pull of something neither of them was saying outright.

And he could’ve stopped there. Could’ve left it polite.

He didn’t.

She was teasing him again by the third message. Playful. Open.

He’d tried to keep it cool.

But God, she made it hard.

And somewhere between their teasing and half-joking plans to grab coffee when they were back in the same city, he realised no amount of distance was going to save him.

Maybe she felt it too.

Or maybe he was imagining it.

Either way, he found himself typing out messages he didn’t send. Wondering if she was doing the same.

And then, it slowed.

Not because he wanted it to.

Not because she wasn’t still on his mind.

Just… life pulling at them both. Interviews, work calls, suit fittings. And maybe he wanted her to miss him a little too.

So after a few days, he felt it more than he meant to.

He'd become aware of the space she’d started to take up in his brain.

Of the way her name lit up his screen.

Of the way he kept checking, wondering which of them would be the first to crack.

It was always going to be him.

The next morning, before he could even finish his coffee, with the time difference closing in, he tapped the little camera icon beside her name.

What the hell was he doing?

The call rang. Once. Twice.

Then nothing.

Missed.

He cursed under his breath and ran a hand over his face. He never did shit like that. Never called people without warning. Never let nerves climb up his spine like this.

He fired off a quick dignity recovery message.

But then a new reply popped in.

Missed your call! I'm in LA getting glam for a press shoot, not quite decent rn. Hope everything’s okay x

He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head.

He was in deep.

Mid-morning in LA, you were sitting cross-legged in your hotel robe, trying not to overanalyze every single message in your inbox, when it came in:

Missed video call – Bucky Barnes

You froze. Your thumb hovered over the screen.

Then another buzz.

Didn’t mean to spook you. Just wanted to say hi.

You made a small, inhuman sound and flung the phone across the bed.

“Ok,” you called, your voice sounded too high, and strung out even to your own ears. “Ok what the hell am I meant to do with that?”

Lulu appeared in the doorway, makeup brush in hand, eyes immediately narrowing. “What did he do?”

“He FaceTimed me. And then messaged like it was normal.”

Dani’s voice came from behind her, mid-straightener pass. “Like, just now?”

“I mean, who does that? It’s illegal. That’s an illegal level of confidence.” You couldn't help sounding accusatory.

Lulu snatched up your phone from the bed. “Oh my god.”

“I haven’t replied,” you said, already spiraling. “Do I reply? Am I supposed to reply? Or is it weird if I reply too fast?”

Dani raised an eyebrow. “Babe, the man video called you. I think you’re allowed to text him back.”

Lulu handed your phone back with a snigger.

You tried to stay cool, fire off a super casual reply that didn't sound like you'd thought about nothing but him for the last few days.

“You know what you need?” Lulu said thoughtfully.

You groaned. “I swear to god, if you say a thirst trap I will disown you -”

“A classy thirst trap,” she corrected. “A little bit sexy, little flirty…”

In the background, Dani nodded sagely. “She's right. Robe shot. On the bed. Soft lighting. You’re welcome.”

“C'mon Dan, the fucking bed?”

She pointed at the bed next to the tray where your breakfast was still laid out.

“Bed, now.” She clicked the straighteners together menacingly.

You posted the photo five minutes later then threw your phone onto the bed and tried to pretend you weren’t watching it like a hawk.

It took him exactly three minutes.

You let out a gasp so dramatic that Dani nearly burned herself with the straighteners.

Lulu peeked over your shoulder and cackled. “Pack your bags babe, you’re done for.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Oh, I’m in so much trouble.”

You weren’t imagining it. The post had blown up.

By the time your glam was done, you had texts from your publicist, your brother, and your ex (weird), all asking some variation of: “What’s going on with you and Bucky Barnes?”

You did not have an answer.

The comments were worse.

You didn't reply, this internet storm was his own making and you had to get to work.

The shoot ran long, lighting delays, a wardrobe change, a stubborn clasp on the back of a couture gown that nearly had Becka in tears. By the time you got back to your hotel room, your feet were aching and your face hurt from smiling.

You dropped your bag, kicked off your shoes, and finally checked your phone again.

The notifications were still rolling in, but you didn't dare entertain them.

Instead, you opened his message thread.

You hovered for a second, thumbs ready.

“You just can’t help breaking the internet, can you?”

You stared at it for half a second too long before hitting send.

Then you put your phone on charge across the room and let yourself fall back against the duvet.

“Can’t believe you commented,” Bucky muttered, arms crossed, cap low over his eyes like he could hide from the consequences of his own actions.

Across the aisle, Sam didn't even look up from his phone. “Me? You openly declared you'd like to eat her for breakfast, my friend.”

Bucky scowled. “I did not -”

“You did. The internet’s melting down. I’m getting tagged in memes. Again.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, muttering something about it not meaning like that.

Sam just smirked. “Uh huh. Tell that to the girl blushing in her Instagram story right now.”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his jaw, suddenly very interested in the in-flight safety card. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You threw a match in a comment on a thirst trap.”

“It was hardly a thirst trap.”

Sam gave him a look. “She posted it five minutes after your call. That’s tactical warfare, man. And you walked straight into the line of fire.”

Bucky leaned back, head thunking against the seat. “She looked good.”

Sam grinned, triumphant. “There it is.”

A second of quiet passed before Bucky muttered, “I’m in so much trouble.”

“You’re in so much trouble,” Sam agreed cheerfully. “But it’s the fun kind. You know, until it’s not.”

That earned a side-eye. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Hey,” Sam shrugged, “you brought this on yourself, pal. Just don’t catch feelings if you’re not ready to do something about it.”

From across the aisle, Natasha didn’t even look up from her iPad. “You video called her and then commented publicly. Do you want us to set up a billboard on Sunset?”

Bucky groaned. “Nat…”

“I’m just saying,” she said, flicking through looks for the pre-Globes party. “It’s a bold move for someone who allegedly doesn’t date.”

Sam leaned over, smirking. “Told him it was tactical warfare. She posted that robe shot five minutes after he called.”

Nat finally looked up. “She knew what she was doing.”

Bucky muttered something inaudible and tried to sink lower into his seat.

Sam grinned. “Oh, he’s cooked.”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully. “Good. He’s overdue.”

Bucky shot her a glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. Which is why I’m making sure you don’t screw it up.” She tossed him a look over the top of her iPad. “You’re wearing the navy suit, by the way. No arguments.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue.”

“Good.”

The pre-Globes party was already buzzing when he arrived.

Flashbulbs sparked outside with a light that burned through his retinas and left an imprint on his brain. The braying crowd made him want to turn around and call it a night. But Nat had shoved him out of the car with a sharp “Chin up, soldier,” and there wasn’t much point in arguing with her. There never was.

Inside, it was all polished floors and too many famous faces in one room. Everyone dressed like they had something to prove. He tugged slightly at the collar of his navy suit, and ignored the way Sam grinned at him like he was waiting for something to happen.

Because he was. They both were.

His only saving grace was that there were no press invited, only a handful of official photographers.

He hadn’t seen her yet.

Not in person.

Not since the coffee.

And none of the photos he had seen had done her justice.

He was still scanning the crowd when Sam bumped his shoulder. “Don’t look now,” he said, low and gleeful, “but your breakfast just walked in.”

Bucky turned anyway.

And there she was.

Like all of his Christmases come at once.

She hadn’t seen him yet.

It gave him time to watch her. Take her in. The way she laughed with someone by the bar, hand fluttering to her collarbone. The way the soft fabric of her dress caught the light when she moved, like it had been made to be touched.

“Half the men in this room wish she was on their arm tonight,” Sam muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Bucky didn’t answer.

She'd moved to stand near the balcony doors, a flute of champagne in hand, laughing at something Steve Rogers murmured in her ear. Her dress caught the light every time she moved, like liquid. Steve leaned in closer. Easy, familiar, his palm resting just barely at her back.

Bucky’s jaw flexed.

She'd glanced around once or twice when she first arrived, scanning the room, with a little knit between her brows like she was looking for something. Or someone.

He hadn’t moved.

He wasn't sure his legs would actually work. Not when she looked like that - entirely unaware that she’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

Natasha appeared at his side, swirling her drink. “You plan on lurking all night?”

He didn’t answer.

She followed his gaze. “Ah. Of course.”

“It’s not -” he started, then stopped. “He's her co-star.”

“And he’s not her type,” Nat assured him after watching them for a few seconds.

“Yeah?” He tried to sound casual.

She smirked. “Because you are, dumny. Watch, every few seconds she's looking around for someone.”

His breath caught.

Nat patted his chest twice. “Go get your girl, Barnes. Before Steve steals your thunder.”

He threw her a quick smile and took off confidently across the room.

He watched it hit her, the moment she spotted him. Surprise. A flicker of nerves. And then that soft smile. Lit from the inside.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she looked him up and down.

Bucky swallowed hard.

God, she was beautiful.

Steve greeted him with a grin and clapped him on the back. Bucky answered on autopilot, eyes barely leaving her.

“Good to see you, pal.”

“You too. You clean up alright.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass, like she was trying not to stare. But he caught the flicker in her eyes, the dip of her gaze, the flush blooming just under her highlighter.

“Figured I had to bring my A-game,” he said, only half a joke, because it was true.

Her smile curled slow and knowing. “Well, consider the internet broken.”

He smirked. “It’s good to see you again too.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve cut in, clearly missing the current, “you guys did that Variety thing. That was fun.”

“Lots of fun,” she said, eyes still locked on Bucky.

Steve launched in without noticing. “You gonna do that new one with me? That 1940s piece? Thor Odinson’s signed on to direct.”

Bucky forced a chuckle. “I dunno, Rogers. I might try theatre. I hear that’s where the real talent is.”

“You could be onto something. Matt Murdock got the rights to that space opera thing for Wanda to direct on Broadway.”

“Starlord,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off Bucky.

“Yeah, that’s the one!”

Her glass was empty. She shifted her weight, just a little, but he noticed.

Time to move.

“Rogers, I’ll catch you later?”

Steve clapped his shoulder again. “Count on it. You’re not weaseling out of Odinson’s movie.”

Bucky turned to her. “I’ll walk you to the bar.”

She didn’t answer. Just smiled, and moved, and that was answer enough.

The crowd was loud, electric. But next to her, everything softened..

When they reached the bar, she turned toward him, and he leaned in, just enough to be close, not enough to cross the line.

“You look incredible.”

Her breath caught. Just for a second. But he felt it.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said, voice low, almost shy, but he noticed the tiniest movement of her eyes going to his mouth.

That hit harder than he was ready for.

“Yeah?” he murmured, eyes fixed on hers. “That’s a relief, sweetheart. Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

She didn’t look away. Didn’t laugh it off. Just looked up at him like she felt it too, like this thing between them wasn’t just in his head.

And in that moment, he knew.

He needed to kiss her.

He looked past her, just briefly, remembering the layout of the room, and then touched her wrist lightly.

“Come with me?” He murmured. Pleaded, just a little.

She looked confused, but did as he asked, following him to the outskirts of the room where he ducked into a corridor.

“Is everything OK?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah, I just… yeah.”

“Probably not a good idea, hiding like this?”

“I know,” he dragged a hand across his jaw and then stepped closer to her before he could doubt himself. “I don't do this,” he whispered.

“Don't you?” She breathed.

“No. Not like this. Not… where anyone could… I can’t think straight unless I’m looking at you.”

She looked up at him, her tongue darting across her lower lip.

He reached out and trailed its path with the pad of his thumb, his hand coming to rest in the crook of her neck.

He heard her sigh as she reached up to meet him, her small hands on his chest. He was cautious, not wanting to rush her, but wanting everything at once.

As he pressed his lips to hers, he heard a faint moan, unsure whether it came from him, or her.

She tasted like champagne and something sweeter, something he hadn’t had in… such a long time, but suddenly couldn’t get enough of.

Her fingers curled in his lapel, steadying herself, or maybe pulling him in closer. He deepened the kiss just slightly, but only when he felt her pull.

Her tongue tentatively swept against his and she whimpered.

When they finally broke apart, her forehead rested lightly against his. Neither of them moved.

“OK?” she whispered, like she was asking some unspoken question that only he knew the answer to.

He huffed a soft laugh, the kind that only came from total, stunned relief.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers. “OK.”

He wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. All he knew was that he needed to feel her, not just her hand on his chest, not just her whisper in his ear, he needed more. Needed her.

She stepped into him like she didn’t even notice she was doing it, like her body had made the decision before her mind caught up. His hand slid down her spine, anchoring her to him as their mouths found each other again, harder this time.

The kiss turned messier, more desperate.

His fingers gripped her hip, her nails scraped lightly across his chest and up to the nape of his neck. It wasn’t polite or careful, it was dangerously public but he couldn't bear to stop himself.

She gasped softly when his teeth grazed her bottom lip. He pulled back just enough to hear the sound, to see the dazed look in her eyes, then kissed her again.

It should’ve just been a kiss. Just one stolen moment in a hallway. But the way she kissed him back, like she’d missed it somehow, it undid him.

Her lips were swollen and her hands shook as she moved them from around his neck.

He didn’t step away.

For a second, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the muffled beat of music from the other room and their uneven breaths.

“Buck?”

Sam’s voice called out, somewhere down the corridor.

She tensed. He did too.

“Shit -, I look -”

“You look perfect,” he told her.

He took a reluctant step back, eyes flicking toward the doorway, then back to her.

“Later?” he asked, voice low. Hopeful.

She gave an uncertain nod, then she was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just knocked the air out of his lungs and left him trying to disguise how tight his pants had gotten.

And he was left staring after her, heart hammering, wondering how the hell he was supposed to act normal now. Or ever again.

[lara4eclipze]

» I Miss Us

sypnosis: lara was never one to be in situationships nor talking stages, she claimed it was stupid and would only end up with ones heart broken or yearning — yet here she was missing you her only situationship

warning: angst, situationship, hurt no comfort, swearing, ghosting, italics for flashbacks, etc

talks: I'm so sorry for those requests i haven't written yet BUT trust i am gonna write some and release them maybe today and tomorrow!, thank you for your patience ^^

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara stared at her phone, at your conversation to be specific — it's been two months since you two have even chatted, in lara's opinion is the longest two months of her life

lara used to get excited just staying up and chatting with you — sneaking out of the dorms just to have drinks or eat out with you, it didn't matter that she could've been caught by her management — what mattered to her was you

the door to the kats shared house creeks louder than lara would've wanted — her eyes adjust to the dark environment only to make out a figure standing near the kitchen, their leader sophia

"where have you been?!, you know i have been worried sick? i called everyone including your mom!" sophia screams at lara, maybe for the first time in a while — atleast lara wants to pretend like so

in reality lara has been on sophias nerves ever since she started to talking to you — she always left without telling anyone she would be lazy in practices just so that she can chat with you

"go to your room — and whoever it is you are meeting up with, stop it lara you're getting too distracted" sophia mutters trying to keep her calm demeanor "stop telling me what to do" lara snaps back

"do it or ill tell the management team" sophia threatened, it all just stopped from that moment on — lara had to choose between her needs and wants, she walked silently to her shared room fidgeting with her phone

she debated whether to chat you or listen to sophia yet as much as she hated what she was gonna do she did it

she ghosted you.

the first week was confusing to say the least — lara who always chatted with you through every platform was now getting cold?, her usual energetic response to your chats were now replaced with "yeah" or "okay"

the second week was weird, lara had took almost 2 - 3 days just to respond to you, you double texted you had even called her a few times yet it always ended with her giving you a honestly lame excuse

the third to fourth week hurted the most, lara had fully ghosted you, she didn't respond at all, you knew she was active on her socials i mean she posted every week — she always saw your texts she just chose not to open them, you got desperate for even a drop of her attention, it got so bad to the point you tried contacting her other mutual friends

by the second month you had started to accept what had happened — you didn't wait for a notification from her user anymore, you didnt expect a miracle to happen

lara breaths heavily as she back reads on your chats — it took all of her courage not to call you during all of this, she tried and tried making herself believe that you were just a waste of time that you were just a distraction

yet every little thing makes her remember you, late night trips?, your favorite food, even your scent — it all comes back to you

maybe you were meant for eachother just not in this time not in this moment — she sighs massaging her temples, her lips pressed into a thin line as longing creeps into her

she types then deletes again, types and then deletes — maybe it was too long?, too casual? — lara over analyzed her text to you, until she just typed something simple

a notification pops up on your phone, it was 2 am who would be awake in such hour?

my laru♡: hi, how are you?

your heart sinks, everything you've worked so hard for has come down to this moment, moving on, crying even denial that she ghosted you

y/n: I'm good.

lara's mood shifts, you really are gone — the period on the end of the sentence and the proper grammar, screamed over her

my laru♡: I'm sorry, i miss us

you wanted to respond saying you do too, you missed hours and hours of taking with her — laughing at the stupidest things ever, god even that stupid nickname she had in your chats

y/n: me too.

yet as reality dawns on lara, its all a sick cycle — she could never date you, because of her career, she just wanted to pretend that it didnt matter just for a few more minutes

[whorefordean]

mr. ghostface

wc: 1.6k

tw: language, unprotected sex, belly bulge, choking, slight degradation, slight dubcon perhaps, porn with barely any plot

a/n: this is pure filth, let me know if i missed anything!

p.s this is so ghostface!rafe coded however there is no name mentioned for gf. also @kaylablogsstuff i’m nervy

MDNI

you rolled your eyes as your phone rang for the third time. at this point, it's become a bigger burden to ignore it than to answer whoever the hell keeps disrupting your peaceful night.

you huff as you click answer and hold the phone up to your ear.

"hello?" you questioned impatiently, plopping down onto your bed.

"i'm a little offended, y/n. you write so fondly of me in this journal of yours, but you refuse to answer when i call," the distorted voice echoes throughout the receiver of your cellphone. embarrassment floods your system as you check your nightstand for your journal. shit.

"i don't know what you're talking about," you speak calmly as you try to slow your racing heart.

there's no way this is happening right now.

"so it wasn't you who wrote about how you would take ghostface's big cock like a good girl?" ghostface asked rhetorically. heat pooled low in your belly, causing you to clench your thighs together.

"tell me how much you enjoy this, princess" ghostface ordered, a teasing tone in his voice. unbeknownst to you, he was watching you struggle to gain some self control. you slowly drag your hand down your body, stopping to lightly trace random shapes against your skin once you reach your panties. you opt to put your phone on speaker and settle it beside your head.

"you look so pretty like that, princess. so desperate and needy."

you couldn't help the moan that tumbled out of your pouting lips. the tension in the silence is enough to send your hand into your panties.

"just couldn't wait, huh? such a whore that you couldn't wait any longer before rubbing your little cunt?" ghostface speaks. you shouldn’t be this turned on by the degradation you’re receiving from a killer, but everyone has their flaws. 

"you've read my journal. been wantin' you for so long, mr. ghostface," you answer honestly as you begin to tease your clit. you can hear shuffling on his end, and it's clear that he's touching himself too. his soft moans are echoing throughout your room.

"can you see me, mr. ghostface?" you ask breathlessly as you continue rubbing your slick. grunts echo through the phone, causing you to whimper in response.

"fuck. yea i can, princess," ghostface moans out before speaking again.

"i can see how wet your pretty little pussy is just from knowing i'm watching you," his voice is teasing, and you’re positive he can see the wet spot that’s forming in your panties.

"i wish you were here. i could take it," you can't stop the words from tumbling out of your lips, desperation dripping off your tongue.

"yea? would you let me use that sweet little pussy however i want? be my little plaything? gonna let me stuff you full with my cock, princess?" ghostface teases over the phone. his panting is getting louder, and you can hear how breathless he is. your fingers move faster on your clit as your moans and whimpers continue to escape.

you're too far gone to hear your front door click open. you don't hear his footsteps on the hardwood floor of your apartment. you don't even bat an eyelash as your bedroom door drifts open.

ghostface, unbeknownst to you, stalks over to your bed. he watches as your thighs shake with your approaching orgasm. he waits a moment, mesmerized by you. then, without warning, he yanks your hand out of your panties. you yelp in surprise as your eyes shoot open to see ghostface standing over you. 

“boo,” ghostface teases, causing you to jump slightly. you can’t stop yourself from scooting away from him just an inch. quickly, ghostface reaches out, wrapping his hand around your throat. he squeezes slightly before pulling you closer to him. 

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he speaks. your mouth is dry now, and you can feel your heart thumping out of your chest. you remain silent as you wait for his next move. as you stare up at his mask, you can’t stop your thighs from clenching together, desperate for any kind of friction.

ghostface grabs your thighs, roughly pulling them apart. you almost whine, but just as quickly, ghostface is shoving his hand into your panties. you inhale a shaky breath as he toys with your slit, purposely avoiding where you want him most. you shouldn’t be this desperate for him, but, god, you need him. 

ghostface withdraws his hand and releases your throat. you watch with bated breaths as he pulls his mask up just enough to expose his mouth. then, he slowly drags his other hand up to his lips, sucking your juices off each of his fingers. your jaw drops open as he smirks at you before pulling the mask back down. 

he leans in close and whispers into your ear. 

“you taste so fucking sweet, princess. maybe next time i’ll tie you up and spend all night in between those pretty thighs. see how much you can take until you’re begging me to stop,” his voice is hoarse, deeper now as he pulls away. 

you lift your hips as his hands slip into the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs. the wet fabric is tossed precariously across the room. as you attempt to hide yourself from ghostface, he tuts and pulls your thighs open yet again. you blush as he stares down at your weeping cunt. 

“i’m gonna ruin you,” he mumbles as he tilts his head slightly. you bite your lip and drop your head onto the pillow. your actions cause him to snap up to look at you. 

“you’d like that. wouldn’t you?” the question is rhetorical, but you nod anyway. though you can’t see it, ghostface is smirking under his mask. 

you gasp as he pulls your shirt off, leaving you completely exposed to him. without hesitating, his heavy hands are on your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. he lifts your hips up until you feel his clothed bulge resting again your bare core. you gasp and grind your hips, trying to relieve the tension settling inside you. 

a quick slap is delivered to your plump ass. you’re too focused on the pain coursing through your backside to notice that ghostface has pulled his jeans down just enough to expose his cock.  

he grabs his thick shaft, giving himself a few pumps before teasing his head through your wetness. without warning, he pushes into you, not bothering to let you adjust. 

you moan breathlessly, dropping your entire torso onto the mattress. he’s stretching you out so nicely, though you can’t ignore the pain seeping in from how deep he’s reaching. 

“come on. you can take it,” ghostface spoke condescendingly. his heavy cock pounded into you from behind, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

"it's too much," you moaned out. tears were rushing down your flushed cheeks. your body thrust forward with every shift of his hips.

the pleasure was too much, but you wanted this. god, did you want this.

"but you talked such a big game on the phone. you're such a desperate whore that you practically begged me to fuck you," ghostface patronized. his hand gripped your throat, pulling you up until your back hit his chest. ghostface stopped his movements, burying himself deep in you. his hand traveled down the expanse of your body, stopping at your tits momentarily. he toyed with your nipples, smirking under his mask as you mewled.

"so pathetic," he murmured, before continuing to lower his hand down your body. his large hand stopped on your belly, reveling at the feeling. he looked over your shoulder into the mirror across from your bed.

"oh, fuck," he moaned at the sight, moving his hips slowly. there in the mirror, he watched as your stomach bulged with his cock each time he thrust into you. you whimpered as you watched him. placing your hand over his, you held his palm firmly against your belly.

“see, you’re taking me so well, princess,” ghostface smirked as he whispered into your ear. the hiss he lets out as you clench around his cock has you throwing your head back in a moan.

“feels so good,” you babble. with trembling thighs, you come around his cock, mumbling nonsense as you do. 

“i know it does, princess,” he mutters into your neck, breathing you in. 

your brain goes numb when you feel his hips stutter to a stop inside you. you bask in the feeling of him emptying himself into you. you whine when ghostface pulls out, leaving his hot cum to drip down your thighs. 

he situates you onto the bed, laying you on your back. with an ache in your belly, your eyes flutter closed as you try to catch your breath. the bed dips as ghostface stands. peeking your eyes open just slightly, you watch as he tucks himself back into his jeans. silently, he leaves the room, and you can’t deny the embarrassment you feel. of course this is how it would end. he’d fuck you then leave. 

you roll over and try to settle, but your ears perk up at the sound of running water. the water stops just as quickly as it started, and heavy footsteps can be heard throughout your apartment. a few moments later, ghostface walks back into your room with a wet washcloth in hand. 

he can see the relief on your face and the tension leaving your body as he positions himself in front of you to clean you up. he feels you relax into his touch. 

“thought you left,” you mumble quietly. his masked face tilts as he glances up at you. 

“had to make sure my little plaything got taken care of, yea?” he answers.

[kiryoutann]

disclaimer and cw: fem! reader. one-nightstand, unplanned pregnancy, vomitting.

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST.

journalist! reader, abandoning her draft of an article about SpecGru's (your favorite hockey team) recent win, is forced by her coworkers to "have some fun" AND got dragged to a party. seated around a table full of alcohol that your friends have ordered, loud music blares around you almost to the point of damaging your eardrums.

they say you deserve it - something about how they know you're burying yourself in work not only because you're a workaholic and a huge fan of SpecGru, but also to distract yourself from your recent breakup with your cheating ex.

"honey, you need to forget him, at least just for tonight! look around you, that guy over there has been eyeing you for a while. why don't i hold your drink so you can say hi to him?" one exclaimed, and the others cheered in agreement.

at first, you were reluctant, continuing to plant your back against the back of the couch as if glued to it. but, glass by glass, the alcohol lowers your inhibitions and ability to think rationally. you then slam the glass on the table and approach the brunette with confidence, your friends' cheers ringing out behind you.

so why is it that when you wake up in a strange room - with strange walls and an even stranger bed - the man next to you is a blonde?

you would've just shrug this off and slip out of the bed like any other woman after a one-night stand if he was someone else. but, you recognize that face everywhere - that stubbled jaw and inked left arm peeking out from under the covers. simon riley, SpecGru's top defender.

this must be a dream, you think. this must be some weird, absurd dream you harvested after spending too much time in front of your laptop browsing about him outside of his athletic abilities (whether he's actually single, dating rumors, or some secret Instagram account he has). cause, honestly? out of all the pretty guys in SpecGru, simon is the one who catches your eye.

you slap yourself lightly, intending to wake yourself up from this too-good-to-be-true dream. one slap. two slaps. and the third one is so hard that the said man shifts and grumbles in his sleep. before you can get out of bed, he opens his eyes and looks at you confused.

"uh.. hi," you try, wincing at your own nervousness. "i'm.. well, i'll be going now."

you don't give simon time to respond because the next thing you know, you're already gathering your clothes and heading out of the five-star hotel room.

and of course. of course simon has to give you a "souvenir". cause two months after, you're sitting on the toilet with a positive pregnancy test. you've had your suspicions, but now that you have proof to hold, the fear creeps into your spine.

the cost of living alone is enough to put a dent in your bank account, let alone having a baby? with the father somewhere far and you can only see him on television every time he plays at the hockey rink.

yet, turns out, SOMEHOW, simon isn't as far away as you thought.

two weeks in limbo considering what to do, your boss assigns you to cover this sport lunch event at a hotel. his briefing is short, but you don't think anything of it. probably because you already have a lot on your plate. besides, going means more bonuses for you to receive.

but boy, it's a disaster at first sight.

simon fucking riley is there, with a few of his teammates. his presence is hard to avoid as he stands like a fucking mammoth in the room. you're smaller than him, so you hope, pray to god and the gods in the sky that your size makes it hard for him to spot you (if he even remembers you).

misplaced optimism, apparently. because firstly, simon has the eyes of an eagle. and secondly, for some reason, he remembers you (or even remembers everyone he's ever slept with? you wonder what he's got stacked up in his hippocampus.)

fucking eggs. the second you smell it, you feel your breakfast kicking, wanting to breach your throat. you excuse yourself, walking briskly towards where the toilets are probably located. out of the corner of your eye, you see simon get up from his chair, but you couldn't care less when you're at risk of staining the expensive marble.

"ma'am?" a deep voice called out to you. simon. you felt the stomach acid reaching the tip of your throat now.

to make the day better, this stupid hallway is too long, and simon turns out to be quite determined in his pursuit. when he grabs your hand, you turn to him and-

you stained his armani suit with your vomit. his face was twisted in disgust mixed with shock, but his grip on you didn't loosen. drawing a conclusion, simon knew what this was all about.

well, at least you don't have to worry about the marble now.

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